looking up saw the big bluff Squire riding toward her. The big Squire was very fond of children, and whenever he rode near the little white cottage he stopped to have a word with Mary. He was old and bald-headed, and he had side-whiskers that were very red in color and very short and stubby; but there was ever a merry twinkle in his blue eyes, and Mary well knew him for her friend. Now, when she looked up and saw him coming toward her flower-garden, she nodded and smiled to him, and the big bluff Squire rode up to her side, and looked down with a smile at her flowers. Then he said to her in rhyme (for it was a way of speaking the jolly Squire had), "Mistress Mary, so contrary, How does your garden grow? With dingle-bells and cockle-shells And cowslips all in a row!" And Mary, being a sharp little girl, and knowing the Squire's queer ways, replied to him likewise in rhyme, saying, "I thank you, Squire, that you enquire How well the flowers are growing; The dingle-bells and cockle-shells And cowslips all are blowing!" The Squire laughed at this reply, and patted her upon her head, and then he continued, "'T is aptly said. But prithee, maid, Why thus your garden fill When ev'ry field the same flowers yield To pluck them as you will?" "That is a long story, Squire," said Mary; "but this much I may tell you, "The cockle-shell is father's flower, The cowslip here is Robart, The dingle-bell, I now must tell, I 've named for Brother Hobart "And when the flowers have lived their lives In sunshine and in rain, And then do fade, why, papa said He 'd sure come home again." "Oh, that 's the idea, is it?" asked the big bluff Squire, forgetting his poetry. "Well, it 's a pretty thought, my child, and I think because the flowers are strong and hearty that you may know your father and brothers are the same; and I 'm sure I hope they 'll come