ON THE MANUSCRIPTS OF GOD 



manufacture in my secret laboratory the 

 burnished gold chalices of millions of butter- 

 cups. Nor is it every earth-gnome whom 

 I would trust to fashion my delicate daisies 

 with their hearts of gold. But, bless you, 

 child, you shall have them, and nobody but 

 the buttercups, daisies, and myself shall 

 know how 'tis done. For the clover and 

 roses you may need to wait a little longer 

 still, since I must employ a score or more 

 of mysterious processes, quite beyond your 

 understanding, to give them their beautiful 

 fragrance. The rose, especially, requires 

 weeks and months, sometimes years, of my 

 most occult cunning and patience to give 

 its petals their velvet texture and to roll 

 them all up in such captivating buds." 



"Trees? Ah, yes, my dears, I knew you 

 would all like those, so I began working on 

 them ages ago. These are my richest, rarest 

 fairy gifts to man; and little he thinks, when 

 he recklessly hews them down, what heaven- 

 blessed wisdom I have put into them. But 

 would you ever guess from the looks of your 

 dark brown mother that she could trans- 



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