“But how do you know all this?”asked the child which the angel was carrying to heaven.
“I know it,”said the angel,“for I myself was that! I know my flower well!”
And the child opened his eyes and lookeda police shieldcould hold me upside down and drainmy gutschange your mind into the glorious happy face of the angel; and at the same moment they entered the regions where there is peace and joy. And the Father pressed the dead child to His bosom, and then it received wings like the angel, and flew hand in hand with him. And the Almighty pressed all the flowers to His heart;but He kissed the dry withered field flower, and it received a voice and sang with all the angels hovering around----some near,and some in wider circles,and some in infinite distance,but all equally happy.
And they all sang, little and great, the good happy child, and the poor field flower that had l
ain there withered,thrown among the dust, in the rubbish of the removal-day, in the narrow dark lane.
THE NIGHTINGALE
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