T H F, T E A ROSE. 
what they really needed, and I have always been willing to do 
that, when I could without going far out of my way.” 
“ Well, cousin, if our Heavenly Father gave to us as we often 
give, we should have only coarse shapeless piles of provision, lying 
about the world, instead of all the beautiful variety of trees, fruits, 
and flowers which now delight us.” 
“ Well, well, cousin, I suppose you are right, but pray have mercy 
on my poor head; it is too small to hold so many new ideas at once; 
even go on your own way:” and the little lady began practizing a 
waltzing step before the glass with great satisfaction. 
PART II. 
It was a very small room, and lighted by only one window. 
There was no carpet on the floor; there was a clean but coarsely 
covered bed in one corner; a cupboard with a few plates and 
dishes in the other; a chest of drawers; and before the window 
stood a small cherry stand, quite new, and indeed the only article 
in the room that seemed so. A pale sickly looking woman of about 
forty was leaning back in her rocking chair, her eyes closed, and 
her lips compressed as if in pain. She rocked backward and for¬ 
ward a few moments, pressed her hand hard upon her eyes, and 
then languidly resumed the fine stitching on which she had been 
busy since morning. The door opened, and a slender little girl of 
about twelve years of age entered, her large blue eyes dilated, and 
absolutely radiant with delight, as she held up the small vase with 
the Rose-tree in it. 
“ Oh see ! Mother, see ! there’s one in full bloom, and two more 
half out, beautiful buds ! ” 
The poor woman’s face brightened, as she looked first on the 
Rose, and then on her sickly girl, on whose face she had not seen so 
bright a colour for months. 
“ God bless her! ” said she, involuntarily. 
“Miss Florence! I knew you would feel so, mother; don’! it 
