"
At last she ventured to open her eyes. The rainbow had faded almost
entirely away, only a few tender rose and green shades were arching
over her; but the Pot of Gold under her hand was still there, and
shining brighter than ever. All the pine needles with which the ground
around it was thickly spread, were turned to needles of gold, and some
stray couplets of leaves which were springing up through them were all
gilded.
Flax bent over it trembling and lifted the lid off the pot. She
expected, of course, to find it full of gold pieces that would buy the
grand house and the gardener and the maid that her father had spoken
about. But to her astonishment, when she had lifted the lid off and
bent over the Pot to look into it, the first thing she saw was the
face of her mother looking out of it at her. It was smaller of course,
but just the same loving, kindly face she had left at home. Then, as
she looked longer, she saw her father smiling gently up at her, then
came Poppy and the baby and all the rest of her dear little brothers
and sisters smiling up at her out of the golden gloom inside the Pot.
At last she actually saw the garden and her father in it tying up the
roses, and the pretty little vine-covered house, and, finally, she
could see right into the dear little room where her mother sat with
the baby in her lap, and all the others around her.
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