BRAMP TON-AM ONG-THE-ROSES.
closely I am beset by those strong weeds, and I know
well how deep their long straight roots go down, for
they pierce beyond my young fibres, and I can feel
them drawing all the nourishment away that I ought
to have to make roses of. Look at my leaves, they are
not half so large as they ought to be, and nearly all
drop off soon after the end of June, instead of the
roses I should be shedding, if I had any to scatter.
What am I to do? I cannot weed myself, and the
gardener is very old, and I am half-hidden by the
shrubbery behind me, and I have no beautiful flowers
about me that require his attention, or to attract those
who come and go up and down My Lady's Walk to
where I stand."
 Then she would remark that the bee was a great
traveller, and moved about a good deal in the world,
and passed many things in his flight over the land
that pine, and droop, and grieve for want of a little
care, kindness, and attention, as is too often the case
with silent want which hides and dies, and makes no
sign. Those dandelions which stand up with such
brazen faces, and make themselves seen, as too many
in the world shout until they make themselves heard,
although they have only their folly to proclaim."
 She sometimes gave utterance to thoughts that
seemed of greater depth than might have been looked
for in one so young, but then, as the curate said, she
tried hard to understand those books of wisdom which
are so seldom given to children, and would thus
moralize on the feathered seed, and say, "They are
their own avengers, and blow all about the garden and
alight wheresoever they find any soil to lay hold of.
And I sometimes tell old Jacob, when he wonders
where they come from, that if he looked about on a
windy day he would see myriads in the air, when the