But I Suppose There Might Be Good

Only In Dreams Of Spring Shall I Ever See Again The Flowering Of My Cherry Trees.

However Many Years She Lived, Mary Always Felt That 'she Should Never Forget That First Morning When Her Garden Began To Grow'.

Of Course There Must Be Lots Of Magic In The World," He Said Wisely One Day, "but People Don't Know What It Is Like Or How To Make It. Perhaps The Beginning Is Just To Say Nice Things Are Going To Happen Until You Make Them Happen. I Am Going To Try And Experiment.

Listen To Th' Wind Wutherin' Round The House," She Said. "you Could Bare Stand Up On The Moor If You Was Out On It Tonight." Mary Did Not Know What "wutherin'" Meant Until She Listened, And Then She Understood. It Must Mean That Hollow Shuddering Sort Of Roar Which Rushed Round And Round The House, As If The Giant No One Could See Were Buffeting It And Beating At The Walls And Windows To Try To Break In. But One Knew He Could Not Get In, And Somehow It Made One Feel Very Safe And Warm Inside A Room With A Red Coal Fire.

Never Did She Find Anything So Difficult As To Keep Herself From Losing Her Temper When She Was Suddenly Disturbed While Absorbed In A Book.