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her with such beautiful songs that all the flowers 
wake to listen. Little girl, were you ever waked 
at night by sweet music ? It is most enchanting 
then, when all other sounds are stilled, and the 
bright stars, or the soft moon, are shedding their 
tender light. When the sun shines, he is so bril¬ 
liant and glorious that all my soul is gazing upon 
him ; but at night I can listen, and when the sky is 
full of music, I think of the happy days I have spent 
with the bees, and the butterflies, and the Anemones. 
I think of the first days of spring, when we all burst 
into life and joy, and of the gay summer months 
when the Roses dress themselves in their splendid 
garments. I hope I shall live to see the Roses. Do 
not pluck me, little girl. T will tell you more about 
myself if you will not pluck me. 
“ I see you are looking at the green leaves of 
my mantle. They are spoon-shaped to catch the 
