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Show THE FOXGLOVE. indmamma's garden, in shining rows, hox smellj sweet as it tritnly grows; " mm dial quaint the hours tells, Jl foxglove tall with spiitted bells; ill dear and all is fair Mdliood's self had dwelling there. dmamma's garden a child I played, I naught save bees to make afraid; ""Med the spots on the foxglove's cheek, id knew it could tell, if it would but speak, 'mining fairies in the night painted them by faint starlight. rindmamma's gardeo'the foxgloves gay ) wry wind would nod and sway; i! well I knew that they were wise, i i watched with childhood's eager eye "'them whisper each to each, atih the secrets of their speech. rdmamraa's garden still I walk, ill The foxgloves seem to talk. Ifir Rpeeeh not yet my manhood learns, II when I see them j'otith returns, ( at them still in vain with them am a child again. -Arlo Bates in Youth's Companion. |