hall be picked. I don't think I'm good enough!"
whispered a very small purple pansy, who had only recently been
planted, to a beetle who happened to be crawling by. "I should like
to go with the others, though I don't suppose it would cheer anyone to
see me, I'm not light enough!"

"Don't be too sure," said the beetle solidly. "You've a nice velvety
softness about you, and then you have the best name of them all. What
sick person wouldn't like to have Heartsease?"

"I think I've got enough now," said Bethea, as she laid the last
primula in her basket.

"Oh, do take me!" cried the pansy, touching her little brown shoe with
one of its leaves to attract her attention, "I do want to help!" and
Bethea stooped down, she scarcely knew why, gathered it, and put it
with the rest of her flowers.

The drive to the Hospital was along a dusty country road, and the
flowers under their paper covering, gasped for breath.

As soon as they arrived, Bethea, following her grandmother, carried
them up to the room where children were lying in the little white
beds, and gave them to the woman who was in charge of it.

"Please would you mind putting them in water for the children," she
said in her soft voice, and the woman smiled and nodded.

Bethea took a few of the flowers out, and went round to the different
beds offering one or two, shyly, until she came to a thin pale boy--a
new patient, whom she had never seen before.

"He's only been here a fortnight," said the woman in a whisper, "and
we can't get him to take any interest in anything--I don't know what
we're going to do with him!"

"Is he very ill?" asked Bethea, wistfully.

"No, not so bad as some. A crooked leg, that will get well in time if
only we can wake him up a little."

"I'm so sorry I have nothing but this flower left," said Bethea, as
she stooped over the boy's curly head, and gave him the small purple
pansy.

"Oh, I wish I was more beautiful!" sighed the little dark flower.
"_Now_ would be an opportunity to do some good in the world!"

The boy turned wearily, but his face lighted up as he saw the pansy.
His eyes brightened and he seized it eagerly.

"Heartsease! Oh, it's like home. We've lots of that growing in our
garden. I always had some on Sundays!" he cried. "Do let me keep it.
It seems just a bit of home--a bit of home--a bit of home."

He murmured it over and over again, as if there was rest and happiness
in the very sound of it.

"I'll keep fres