80 “THESE THREE.”

side—nobody knew how—and out tumbled a large

_three-cornered piece upon the tea-box. Then fol-
lowed a handful of earth; then the whole rose-
tree, stem and root. And there they all lay to-
gether till the soil turned white as dust. Only
the broken flower-pot stood upright as before.

For how long, do you ask? Let us measure
time by events? It stood till the moss on the
wall at the upper end of the paddock had scattered
its seed-dust so many years that it had reached
the farther end where the shed was, got into it,
climbed over the worm-eaten beams, up the side of
the tea-box, just over the Chinese sign vouching
for the fine flavour of the leaves within, and so up
till it touched the broken flower-pot itself, and
made the deferential remark, “ By your leave.”

It had said so all along its journey, poor little
dear !—for the kindest creatures always are the
most modest—but there was no need for apology
yny where. ,

“‘1’m sure you're welconie,” smiled the old Wall;
and he might well be pleased. The moss had
filled up his worn crevices, covered his roughnesses,