were faces lovelier than roses; lips brighter than ripe cherries, and
eyes purer than dew; from the day I first beheld those flowers of the
city, I ceased to sigh for the country and its flowers. I used to stand
and gaze at them with grateful delight, and live over again my own
childhood's hours, as I watched their childhood's sports. By and by I
knew and became known to several of those children; I gave them kind
words, and they returned me beautiful smiles.

There was amongst that host of children one little boy whose face was
very fair; whose eyes were very bright, and whose little feet made merry
music on the smooth pavement. Girls have a strong intuitive love of the
beautiful, and Johnny with his liquid eyes, and dimpled cheeks, and
floating ringlets of gold was the favorite of all the girls at school,
often wished that I had roses to place upon his brow, and the waters of
paradise to sprinkle on his cheeks, that I might preserve their bloom
forever. But, alas! city flowers droop and fade and die; and though
tears fall, like Hermon's dews, upon the cold green earth where they are
sleeping, it will not renew their blooming, nor bring them back from the
grave.

I looked amongst the tiny throng one day, and Johnny was not there--I
came again and again, and still he was not there. "He has gone away,"
said I, "to gladden his grandmother's bosom--his grandmother, who
doubtless lives far away in some little cottage in the country. He will
soon come back again."

And he did come back again, for on a lovely summer day, when the birds
and butterflies and children were sporting in the sun, I saw him seated
in a little chair, amidst his young companions.