Flax jumped up. "I will run home," said she, "it is late, and I do
want to see them all dreadfully."
So she left the Golden Pot shining all alone under the pine-tree, and
ran home as fast as she could.
When she reached the house it was almost twilight, but her father was
still in the garden. Every rose and lily had to be tied up after the
shower, and he was but just finishing. He had the tin milk pan hung
on him like a shield, because it rhymed with man. It certainly was a
beautiful rhyme, but it was very inconvenient. Poor Mother Flower
was at her wits' end to know what to do without it, and it was very
awkward for Father Flower to work with it fastened to him.
Flax ran breathlessly into the garden, and threw her arms around her
father's neck and kissed him. She bumped her nose against the milk
pan, but she did not mind that; she was so glad to see him again.
Somehow, she never remembered being so glad to see him as she was now
since she had seen his face in the Pot of Gold.
"Dear father," cried she, "how glad I am to see you! I found the Pot
of Gold at the end of the rainbow!"
Her father stared at her in amazement.
"Yes, I did, truly, father," said she. "But it was not full of gold,
after all. You was in it, and mother and the children and the house
and garden and--everything."
"You were mistaken, dear," said her father, looking at her with his
gentle, sorrowful eyes.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25