They are to begin
to prepare a place on the rocks where things can grow."
"Why, they grow themselves," said Nora.
"Yes, but I mean other things--ferns and flowers and other things."
"Well, what is the use of _them_?" said Nora.
"O Nora--just think how pretty they are."
"But prettiness isn't use."
"I think it is," said Daisy; "and I dare say they have other uses that
we do not know. And I think, Nora, that God would not have taken such
care to dress up the old rocks if the rocks were no good."
"Did He do it?" said Nora.
"Why, certainly. He did everything, you know."
"Of course; but I thought they just grew," said Nora.
The children were silent a little, watching the squirrels. Daisy began
again abruptly.
"Nora, did you ever see that crippled woman that lives on the mill road
a little way from our church?"
"Old Molly Skelton, do you mean?"
"I do not know what her name is--she cannot walk; she creeps about as if
she had no legs."
"I've seen her. Isn't she horrid?"
"Did you ever see her near by?"
"No, I guess I haven't. I have heard Duke tell about her."
"What? do tell me."
"O she's a horrid old thing--that is all I know."
"How, horrid?"
"Why, she is wicked, and she don't know anything. She would hardly
listen to Marmaduke when, he wanted to talk to her."
"Has she got a Bible, I wonder?" said Daisy in an awestruck voice.
"She? She can't read. She don't know anything; and she is as ugly and
cross as she can be.
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