nd fragrance floated into the
dreams of the sleeping children. The dreams of all but one, I should
say; for one dear little girl, with great gray eyes and tangled brown
curls, who had fallen and hurt her back so badly a few days before that
it was feared she would never walk again, was wide-awake, trying hard to
keep back the tears that filled her eyes and the sobs that rose in her
throat when she thought of the dear father and mother and the darling
baby brother she had left in the poor home from which she had been
brought. A small lamp hung from the ceiling near by, and cast a faint
light upon the flowers that were crowded into a quaint jug on the shelf
above her bed. There were some roses, some lilies, some daisies, and one
very pale pink geranium blossom in the midst of a group of pretty shy
buds; and as the little girl stifled a great sob that seemed determined
to break out, she became conscious of several very small voices
whispering softly together; and listening intently for a few moments,
she discovered these voices came from the flowers in the quaint jug.

"_I_ came," said a lovely crimson rose, when the whispering had ceased,
and the flowers were apparently satisfied that the children were all
asleep, "from a most beautiful garden, where birds sing and fountains
play all day long, and the rarest of our race are tended with the
greatest love and care."

"_I_ came," said a daisy, "from a happy meadow, where the bees and
butterflies roam from morning till night, where thousands and thousands
of my sisters look up and smile at the bright blue sky, and the cheery
green grass nods--on every side."

"_I_ came," said a stately water-lily, "from a great lake, where the
waves flash like precious gems in the day, and like purest silver at
night, where glancing fish swim merrily to and fro, where tall,
graceful, drooping trees standing upon the mossy banks cast their
shadows upon the water, where, when the air begins to tremble with the
earliest songs of the birds, the broad, faint light of morn steals from
sleeping lily to sleeping lily, and wakes them with a touch."

"_I_ came," said the pale pink geranium blossom, "from a cellar."

"A cellar!" repeated the others, moving a little away from her.

"Yes, a cellar."

"I never met a flower from a cellar before," said the rose.

"Nor I," said the daisy.

"Nor I," said the lily. "There are no cellars in lakes."

"I thought they were all cellar," said the daisy, sl