DAYS NEAR THANKSGIVING S75 
and made the thought of winter seem less long, 
while spring drew nearer. I guarded Its where- 
abouts with secrecy, expecting to count the many 
days It stayed In bloom, and to see if It would suc- 
C( ^d In makli g Its ball of seeds before the first snow 
f^ d. I had lot, however, taken Saturday Into ac- 
co mt, the da) that Joseph has no school. 
vVe were at breakfast that morning when he 
said: “Just think, I found one of those pert little 
dandelions In bloom.’’ 
“What did you do with It?” I asked. 
“Do with it?” he queried. “I took It up and 
destroyed it, of course.” 
So perished the last flower of our garden, and 
for no better reason than because men call it a 
weed. 
“Do you realise,” I asked, to change the melan- 
choly subject of dandelions, “that it will soon be 
Thanksgiving, and Mr. Percy will be home 
again r 
“I hai^e a composition to write before then,” 
Joseph answered In an extremely doleful way. 
“That Is nothing,” I said. “You just begin — ” 
“It Is the beginning of a composition that I de- 
test,” Joseph said savagely. “After that, It Is not 
so bad.” 
I remembered that compositions are hard to be- 
gin, and sometimes hard to end, but that the mid- 
dle parts give no trouble. 
“Just like our garden,” I said. “In spring It 
