and the gardener and the maid that her father had spoken
about. But to her astonishment, when she had lifted the lid off and bent
over the Pot to look into it, the first thing she saw was the face of
her mother looking out of it at her. It was smaller of course, but just
the same loving, kindly face she had left at home. Then, as she looked
longer, she saw her father smiling gently up at her, then came Poppy and
the baby and all the rest of her dear little brothers and sisters
smiling up at her out of the golden gloom inside the Pot. At last she
actually saw the garden and her father in it tying up the roses, and the
pretty little vine-covered house, and, finally, she could see right into
the dear little room where her mother sat with the baby in her lap, and
all the others around her.

Flax jumped up. "I will run home," said she, "it is late, and I do want
to see them all dreadfully."

So she left the Golden Pot shining all alone under the pine-tree, and
ran home as fast as she could.

When she reached the house it was almost twilight, but her father was
still in the garden. Every rose and lily had to be tied up after the
shower, and he was but just finishing. He had the tin milk pan hung on
him like a shield, because it rhymed with man. It certainly was a
beautiful rhyme, but it was very inconvenient. Poor Mother Flower was at
her wits' end to know what to do without it, and it was very awkward for
Father Flower to work with it fastened to him.

Flax ran breathlessly into the garden, and threw her arms around her
father's neck and kissed him. She bumped her nose against the milk pan,
but she did not mind that; she was so glad to see him again. Somehow,
she never remembered being so glad to see him as she was now since she
had seen his face in the Pot of Gold.

"Dear father," cried she, "how glad I am to see you! I found the Pot of
Gold at the end of the rainbow!"

Her father stared at her in amazement.

"Yes, I did, truly, father," said she. "But it was not full of gold,
after all. You were in it, and mother and the children and the house and
garden and--everything."

"You were mistaken, dear," said her father, looking at her with his
gentle, sorrowful eyes. "You could not have found the true end of the
rainbow, nor the true Pot of Gold--that is surely full of the most
beautiful gold pieces, with an angel stamped on every one."

"But I did, father," persisted Flax.

"You had better go into your mother, Fla