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“Mebbe you’re right, Moses; mebbe the seed was no good,” sighed Mrs. Wopp. “Anyhow, it’s too late now to put in any more. We carnt know ef the heart o’ a seed is good no more nor we kin know the heart o’ our next-door neighbor. The seed may ’pear to be good enough from the outside, yet arter all be mighty lackin’.” The fairies, gnomes, and elves, danced, sang, and retired; elves and gnomes crouching close against trees and rocks, the fairies withdrawing only to reappear one by one as the music went on, here and there, high in the trees; and each had a tiny light on her brow. But just over Flora and Sun, poised and upheld by invisible wires, stood the Queen of the Fairies, crown, wand, and shoulders fire-tipped, her arms waving, her filmy draperies continually fluttering, fanned by an artificial breeze. Over all fell a rain of rose leaves. “She can’t, you know; she and sister have to work hard to make what we spend now. I don’t do half enough myself.”.
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Moses and Betty, hearing what promised to add spice to their evening, quickly entered the room. Mrs. Wopp who always had to know the joke, conspired at once to get rid of the youngsters. “Put her in my room and give me the Fo’castle; I’ve always wanted to bunk there.” “You hitch Jethro to yer ole ’xpress waggon, ’n I’ll hitch Job to a prune-box with spool-wheels,” suggested Betty. “You remember that story about a man who died for love of a girl because he knew he ought not to marry her? I thought that sort kind of noble, but you said there was nobler. Do you remember?”.
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