ON WILD ROSE'S HIGHWAY 129 



"What does it want?" I asked her, and I 

 threw another pebble. 



" I believe it's trying to hum," Grandmother 

 answered, " just hear it! " 



At the same time the locust sang, the cricket 

 kept right on, the robin crossed the path, crying 

 " chirp " and the wind grew louder. 



" Let us go now," Grandmother whispered. 

 " I think Tommy has nearly finished his talk with 

 Wild Rose, and after all there may be some rain 

 in those dark clouds." 



Just then a drop struck my face, so I took 

 Grandmother's hand and we went on to the village 

 very quickly. It was only a shower, and the sun 

 soon chased it away ; but I could not help wonder- 

 ing what Tommy had done when it was coming 

 down so hard. 



Grandmother said: " Rain doesn't hurt boys, 

 nor will it harm Wild Rose. It will make her lift 

 up her head higher, and her leaves will glisten, 

 after the dust has been washed away. But it 

 takes the starch out of my little girl's frock, and 

 her pretty curls are growing shorter. The shower 

 Isn't half as fine for her as it is for Wild Rose. 



We went to see a lady Grandmother knew in 

 the village, and then when it had cleared we took 

 the road home. It was still too wet for walking 

 along the highway. When we came to our house 

 Tommy was sitting on the veranda, rocking him- 

 self in the largest chair of all. 



