ed, William
Hender went softly down the garden again to Margery's very neat but very
bare little garden plot, and at the back of it, against the wall, he
carefully planted a fine rose bush. He had brought it home with him on
purpose for her, and, that the children might not see it, he had hidden it
in the hedge in the lane until he had an opportunity of planting it, for
he wanted it to be a surprise for the little maiden. All the time he was
planting it he was picturing to himself what she would say and do when she
first saw it; and he laughed to himself more than once, but very tenderly,
as he pictured the surprise on her face.

In the morning he was up and dressed before any of them, and out in the
garden at work. He had a glance first at the forget-me-not, and then at
Margery's rose bush and daisy. All of which were looking very healthy and
happy in their new surroundings. Then he began to dig up a piece of
ground not far off, where, while pretending to be paying no heed to them,
he could hear all that they said and did.

Then, as the minutes went by, he began to grow impatient for the children
to come, but his patience was not tried for long, before the house-door
was flung open, and a stampede along the path announced their coming.

"Why, father is up already!" he heard Tom exclaim, "and just see what a
lot he's done."

"How nice it looks! Doesn't it make a difference?" said another voice
that he guessed was Bella's. "Wait a minute; I've got to let out the
fowls, and give them their breakfast. Come along, Margery, if you want to
throw it to them."

For once Margery was quite indifferent to the fowls. "Is your 'get-me-not
growing, daddy?" she shouted anxiously, as she raced up to him.

"My dear life, yes! I should just think it is. You give it a look as you
go by. I think it is wonderful."

"Oh, it is, isn't it? I think it's lovely. I am so glad I gave it to
you. Are you glad, daddy?"

"Glad, I should think I am, and no mistake! Never was gladder of anything
in my life," said her father heartily.

Margery's face was radiant with joy. "What are you going to plant in your
garden now, daddy?"

"Cabbages."

"Oh!" disappointedly, "I don't like cabbages, they haven't pretty flowers,
and they haven't a pretty smell."

"Well, we can't have everything pretty, and glad enough we are of cabbages
for dinner sometimes. The hens like them better than any flower, don't
they?"

"Yes, so they do.