. Little Blossom's reward : a Christmas book for children . nice long story. Goodnight, Blossom. Good night, George. CHRISTMAS DAY. 47 The children lingered as long as they couldover the good-night kisses ; but at last therewas no more to be said, and off they ran,talking, as they went up stairs, about papasstory. 48 LITTLE BLOSSOMS REWARD. CHAPTER IV. MAMMAS STORY. THEY had a grand frolic in the playroomthe next evening. It had rained all day; thesnow, which was not very deep after all, hadentirely disappeared, and a dreary surface ofmud and wet covered the ground. The treesand bushes were hu
. Little Blossom's reward : a Christmas book for children . nice long story. Goodnight, Blossom. Good night, George. CHRISTMAS DAY. 47 The children lingered as long as they couldover the good-night kisses ; but at last therewas no more to be said, and off they ran,talking, as they went up stairs, about papasstory. 48 LITTLE BLOSSOMS REWARD. CHAPTER IV. MAMMAS STORY. THEY had a grand frolic in the playroomthe next evening. It had rained all day; thesnow, which was not very deep after all, hadentirely disappeared, and a dreary surface ofmud and wet covered the ground. The treesand bushes were hung with raindrops, and noone could go out. But what matter was thatto the merry party within doors ? In musicand pleasant talk the hours had sped quicklyby, and now it was late in the had taken her uncles and aunts intothe playroom, to show them her baby house,and there by degrees they had all been drawninto a game of romps. Uncle Will outstrippedthem all, however, in jumping over tables andchairs; and he and uncle George enacted the \ A. The Frog and the Water Nymph. MAMMAS STORY. 49 the Ravels, to the childrens great played battledoor and graces, and a va-riety of merry games, till they were quite Blossom suddenly bethought herself ofthe story that they were to hear from mamma,and they all went down stairs to ask herfor it. By that time it was quite dark without,though the lamp was not lighted ; for the fireshone brightly, and gave quite light enoughto tell stories by. We are all ready, mamma, said Blossom. And so am I, said mamma; and my sto-ry is called THE FRIGHTFUL FROG. In a clear spring, at the foot of an old oaktree, lived a great ugly speckled frog. Hewas really a hideous creature, at least so hethought, as he sat on a mossy log, and lookedat the image of his form in the water below. 50 LITTLE BLOSSOMS REWARD. And certainly he would have appeared veryugly to all but those who can see beauty andadaptation in all the works of Go
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