Father Flower, to be sure, felt a little sad sometimes; for, although
his lot in life was a pleasant one, it was not exactly what he would
have chosen. Once in a while he had a great longing for something
different. He confided a great many of his feelings to Flax Flower;
she was more like him than any of the other children, and could
understand him even better than his wife, he thought.
One day, when there had been a heavy shower and a beautiful rainbow,
he and Flax were out in the garden tying up some rose-bushes, which
the rain had beaten down, and he said to her how he wished he could
find the Pot of Gold at the end of the rainbow. Flax, if you will
believe me, had never heard of it; so he had to tell her all about it,
and also say a little poem he had made about it to her.
The poem ran something in this way:
O what is it shineth so golden-clear
At the rainbow's foot on the dark green hill?
'Tis the Pot of Gold, that for many a year
Has shone, and is shining and dazzling still.
And whom is it for, O Pilgrim, pray?
For thee, Sweetheart, should'st thou go that way.
Flax listened with her soft blue eyes very wide open. "I suppose if we
should find that pot of gold it would make us very rich, wouldn't it,
father?" said she.
"Yes," replied her father; "we could then have a grand house, and keep
a gardener, and a maid to take care of the children, and we should no
longer have to work so hard.
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