She needed no reward but the joy she had given.
Let us not tire of a good work, hard though it may be and wearisome; think of the many little hearts that in their sorrow look to us for help. What would the green Earth be without its lovely flowers!
But after each new trial, brighter shone her magic flower, and sweeter grew its breath, while the spirits lost still more their power to tempt her.
This is a fairy flower,′ said the Elf, ’invisible to every eye save yours; now listen while I tell its power. When your heart is filled with loving thoughts, when some kindly deed has been done, some duty well performed, then from the flower there will arise the sweetest, softest fragrance, to reward and gladden you.
There were lines upon his forehead, but Time seemed to have touched him gently, remembering how kind he was to others.
They seemed to get clearer views of life and duty up there among the everlasting hills; the fresh winds blew away desponding doubts, delusive fancies, and moody mists; the warm spring sunshine brought out all sorts of aspiring ideas, tender hopes, and happy thoughts; the lake seemed to wash away the troubles of the past, and the grand old mountains to look benignly down upon them, saying, ‘Little children, love one another.
I have been every day, but the baby is sick, and I don’t know what to do for it. Mrs. Hummel goes away to work, and Lottchen takes care of it; but it gets sicker and sicker, and I think you or Hannah ought to go.
Almost inaudible was the low, reluctant, answer, so low that she thought the old man had not heard it and was about to speak again when a burst of exultant laughter startled her like a thunderclap, the curtain was pushed aside and through the grating looked the dark face of Phillip Tempest!
I am content to see Meg begin humbly, for if I am not mistaken, she will be rich in the possession of a good man’s heart, and that is better than a fortune.
The little grave where her infant sleeps Is ’neath the chestnut tree; But o’er her grave we may not weep, We know not where it may be.
Another cat comes after her mice, A cat with a dirty face; But she does not hunt as our darling did, Nor play with her airy grace.
It’s bad enough to be a girl, anyway, when I like boy’s games and work and manners! I can’t get over my disappointment in not being a boy. And it’s worse than ever now, for I’m dying to go and fight with Papa. And I can only stay home and knit, like a poky old woman!” And Jo shook the blue army sock till the needles rattled like castanets, and her ball bounded across the room.
You will find that money can buy everything, even the conscience and integrity of a priest,” began Tempest.
It could not buy that of Ignatius,” she interrupted with a look of triumph, for amidst so much deceit she felt a double gratitude that one man had been found true.
Poor little Margaret, no hope for you when Faust and Mephistopheles are one.
It was as if her own conscience had taken human shape, for his voice eloquently uttered the fears, the feelings that had filled her heart that night. She had wavered, for love was sweet and life looked desolate without it; but the example of this man who asked nothing for himself and was as true to his own soul as he would have her to hers, touched and inspired her with a brave desire to be worthy his respect, to emulate his virtue.
I have no fears for you, yet I am anxious that you should take this trouble rightly. Don’t grieve and fret when I am gone, or think that you can comfort yourselves by being idle, and trying to forget. So on with your work as usual, for work is a blessed solace. Hope, and keep busy; and, whatever happens, remember that you never can be fatherless.
There is very little real liberty in the world; even those who seem freest are often the most tightly bound.
Her heart sunk within her, for the shadow of his presence seemed to fall darkly over all her future.
Sentimental? Yes. Thank Gott, we Germans believe in sentiment, and keep ourselves young mit it. Your English ‘you’ is so cold, say ‘thou,’ heart’s dearest, it means so much to me,” pleaded Mr. Bhaer, more like a romantic student than a grave professor.