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The Project Gutenberg EBook of The One Moss-Rose, by P. B. Power This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net Title: The One Moss-Rose Author: P. B. Power Release Date: April 26, 2007 [EBook #21217] Language: English Character set encoding: ASCII *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ONE MOSS-ROSE *** Produced by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, Emmy and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was made using scans of public domain works in the International Children's Digital Library.) THE ONE MOSS-ROSE. [Illustration: "STOP, STOP,--DON'T CUT IT!"] [Illustration] THE ONE MOSS-ROSE. BY REV. P. B. POWER, M.A. [Illustration: Emblem] LONDON: T. NELSON AND SONS, PATERNOSTER ROW; EDINBURGH; AND NEW YORK. 1872. [Illustration] THE ONE MOSS-ROSE. [Illustration: L]EONARD DOBBIN had a humble cottage upon Squire Courtenay's estate; but although the cottage was humble, it was always kept neat and clean, and was a pattern of everything that a poor man's dwelling should be. The white-washed walls, the smoothly raked gravel walk, and the sanded floor, were so many evidences that Leonard was a careful and a thrifty man; and while some of his poorer neighbours laughed, and asked where was the use of being so precise, they could not help respecting Dobbin, nevertheless. The great, and, indeed, almost the _only_ pleasure upon which the labourer allowed himself to spend any time, was the little flower garden in front of the house. The garden was Dobbin's pride; and the pride of the garden was a moss-rose tree, which was the peculiar treasure of the labourer's little crippled son, who watched it from the window, and whenever he was well enough, crept out to water it, and pick off any stray snail which had ventured to climb up its rich brown leaves. No mother ever watched her little infant with more eager eyes than Jacob Dobbin did his favourite rose; and no doubt he thought all the more of it because he had so few pleasures in life. Jacob Dobbin had no fine toys, he could not take any long walks, nor could he play at cricket, or any such games, therefore his rose tree was
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