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there was any thing in the world, but beauty and 
goodness. 
The thunder began to roll from the clouds that 
had gathered into a deep mass, and threatened 
every moment to overspread the sky and descend 
in showers ; the bright lightning leaped up in the 
horizon, and Mary and her parents sought shelter in 
a farm-house that now appeared in sight. But 
Mary was not afraid. She knew who made the 
world, and guided the thunder and lightning, and 
was more powerful than they, which were his min¬ 
isters to do good as truly as the gentle flowers that 
made no noise. 
As soon as the rain ceased, the farmer took the 
walking party home in his wagon; for the grass 
was wet, and it was a long way home by the road. 
The clouds still hung heavy with their burden, and 
all the flowers had closed their petals or bowed their 
