. Little 'Jim Crow' : et d'autres histoires pour les enfants . ! Sur ses genoux, le jardinier exta-tiated sur la perfection de la forme et la fermeté de la texture à trouver dans ce beau-tiful fleur sans nom, qui a été maintenu doucement par sa tige robuste. Des marques pures de porcelaine-bleu, lui donnent un sourire presque humain, inur- 20G LA PORCELAINE PRINCESSE inimparfait la dame; Les marques de velours noir-est, et ce grand ivd-orange ey«.where ai-je vu cet oeil particulier, et où cette pure, même teinte de bleu ?Why- et au même moment le gard(mi-a frappé ses mains tachées de terre ensemble, en exclamant: Le

• Contributeur: Reading Room 2020 / Alamy Banque D'Images
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. Little "Jim Crow" : and other stories for children . ! Down on his knees, the gardener expa-tiated on the perfection of form and thefirmness of texture to be found in this beau-tiful nameless blossom, that was upheld sofirmly by its sturdy stem. Pure porcelain-blue markings, thatgive it an almost human smile, inur- 20G THE PRINCESS PORCELAIN inured the lady; the markings of black-est velvet, and that great ivd-orange ey«.Where have I seen that peculiar eye, andwhere that pure, even tint of blue ?Why- And at the same moment the gard(Mid-struck his earth-stained hands together, exclaiming: The King of the Blacks, maam! while his mistress cried: Por-celain Blue! and the gardener finished:It s the hoffspring of them two plants, maam, as sure as you re alive; and sheas no name, poor thing! Oh, yes, she has, smiled his mistress. She is of royal parentage, and beautiful, and she is called the i Princess Porce-lain ; and to herself she whispered: Ah, love never dies! That is proved by theexistence here of Princess Porcelain. THE HERMITS THE HERMITS. E was a slender, serious, dark-eyed boy, and my close friend.I called him Hal, instinc-tively feeling what a misfitwas the name Harry, by which his familycalled him. I was proud of being hischum, not only because he was a boy, butbecause he was two or three years myelder, and so, of course, was two or threeyears the wiser. He was no girl-boy. He raced, playedball and marbles, ran away and went inswimming, and took his thrashing for it, just as other boys did; but he was gentlerthan they—he was imaginative andthoughtful. We were the only children living in thatdirect neighborhood, which was a veryretired one, so that our companionship 209 210 THE HERMITS the natural outcome of the situa-tion. We were both booky, we wereboth Sunday-school enthusiasts, and hewas the son of an intensely religiousmother— a God-/on;/// woman, with whomprayer was a joy, not a duty; who praisedher Maker because he had made her, andin his own image; a w

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