" I was mistaken.
"Oh, thank you, my darlings! How kind you were! Poor, hot, tired little
flowers, how thirsty they look! If they will only try and keep alive till
we get home, we will make them very happy in some water; won't we? And you
shall put one bunch by papa's plate, and one by mine."
Sweet and happy, the weary and flushed little children stood looking up in
her face while she talked, their hearts thrilling with compassion for the
drooping flowers and with delight in the giving of their gift. Then she
took great trouble to get a string and tie up the flowers, and then the
train came, and we were whirling along again. Soon it grew dark, and
little Annie's head nodded. Then I heard the mother say to the oldest boy,
"Dear, are you too tired to let little Annie put her head on your shoulder
and take a nap? We shall get her home in much better case to see papa if
we can manage to give her a little sleep." How many boys of twelve hear
such words as these from tired, overburdened mothers?
Soon came the city, the final station, with its bustle and noise.
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