all about the wood. He gathered some of the most delicate, and put them
into the fresh small hands.

"But, Daddy, I mustn't eat them, must I?"

"No, dear--they are too beautiful to eat. You must just look at them and
love them, like flowers."

"But they are not flowers, Daddy. They don't smell like flowers. I would
rather have flowers, Daddy."

"But there are no flowers till next year. You must learn to love these
too, little Wonder; they are more beautiful than flowers."

"Oh, no, Daddy, they are not--"

"Antony," said Beatrice, "how strange you are! Would you poison her?
See, dear," (turning to Wonder) "Daddy is only teasing. Let us throw
them away. They are nasty, nasty things. Promise me never to gather
them, won't you, Wonder?"

"Yes, mother. I don't like them. They frighten me."

Antony turned into a by-path with a strange laugh, and was lost to them
in the wood.




CHAPTER VII