nd see how many wild flowers you can bring me home, and I'll get down
father's jug for you to put them in when you come back."

"But, mother, there are so few pretty flowers near a town," said Tom, a
little unwillingly, for it was a coming down from being Prince of Wales,
and he was not yet quite reconciled to it.

"Oh dear! there are a great many if you'll only look for them. I dare
say you'll make me up as many as twenty different kinds."

"Will you reckon daisies, mother?"

"To be sure; they are just as pretty as any."

"Oh, if you'll reckon such as them, I dare say I can bring you more than
twenty."

So off he ran; his mother watching him till he was out of sight, and
then she returned to her work. In about two hours he came back, his pale
cheeks looking quite rosy, and his eyes quite bright. His country walk,
taken with cheerful spirits, had done him all the good his mother
desired, and had restored his usually even, happy temper.

"Look, mother! here are three-and-twenty different kinds; you said I
might count all, so I have even counted this thing like a nettle with
lilac flowers, and this little common blue thing."

"Robin-run-in-the-hedge is its name," said his mother. "It's very pretty
if you look at it close. One, two, three"--she counted them all over,
and there really were three-and-twenty. She went to reach down the best
jug.

"Mother," said little Tom, "do you like them very much?"

"Yes, very much," said she, not understanding his meaning. He was
silent, and gave a little sigh. "Why, my dear?"

"Oh, only--it does not signify if you like them very much; but I thought
how nice it would be to take them to lame Harry, who can never walk so
far as the fields, and can hardly know what summer is like, I think."

"Oh, that will be very nice; I am glad you thought of it."

Lame Harry was sitting by himself, very patiently, in a neighbouring
cellar. He was supported by his daughter's earnings; but as she worked
in a factory, he was much alone.

If the bunch of flowers had looked pretty in the fields, they looked
ten times as pretty in the cellar to which they were now carried. Lame
Harry's eyes brightened up with pleasure at the sight; and he began to
talk of the times long ago, when he was a little boy in the country, and
had a corner of his father's garden to call his own, and grow lad's-love
and wall-flower in. Little Tom put them in water for him, and put the
jug on the table by him; on which h