The boys never seemed to mind, but then boys
don't think about things; so that I was quite surprised when one day I
found Sandy alone in our field with Perronet in his arms, crying, and
feeding him with cake; and I found he was crying about the tax-money.
I cannot bear to see boys cry. I would much rather cry myself, and I
begged Sandy to leave off, for I said I was quite determined to try
and think of something.
It certainly was remarkable that the very next day should be the day
when we heard about the flower-show.
It was in school--the village school, for Mother could not afford to
send us anywhere else--and the schoolmaster rapped on his desk and
said, "Silence, children!" and that at the agricultural show there was
to be a flower-show this year, and that an old gentleman was going to
give prizes to the school-children for window-plants and for the best
arranged wild flowers. There were to be nosegays and wreaths, and
there was to be a first prize of five shillings, and a second prize of
half-a-crown, for the best collection of wild flowers with the names
put to them.
"The English names," said the schoolmaster; "and there may
be--silence, children!--there may be collections of ferns, or grasses,
or mosses to compete, too, for the gentleman wishes to encourage a
taste for natural history.
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