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Every morning during the summer a bunch of morning-glories, wet with dew, adorned the breakfast table. Blue and pink and white, they seemed the very spirit of morning freshness and sweetness. Miss Gordon complied, then followed the old favorite with a two-step played in as sprightly a manner as the organ would allow. Flora came into view, clad in palest pink, and wreathed with almond blossoms. Wherever she stepped the ground was white with almond snow. Gnomes and elves peeped from behind gray rocks and tree-trunks, but fled as she came near, following the ever-beckoning fairies. “Please, Mith Wopp, the latht windthorm upthet our hen-houth.”.