When he went away he patted my head, and said Margery and I must come
to tea with him some day, and he would show us wonderful things in his
microscope, and if we were very good, a plant that eats meat.
"But most flowers thrive by 'eating the air,' as the Irish say, and
you're one of 'em, Miss Grace. Do ye hear? You're not to bury yourself
in this attic in the holidays. Run out in the garden, and play with
your friends the Sunflowers, and remember what I've told you about
their going to sleep and setting you a good example. It's as true as
Gospel, and there's many a rough old gardener besides Dr. Brown will
tell you that flowers gathered in the morning last longer than those
gathered in the evening, because those are fresh after a night's nap,
and these are tired and want to rest, and not to be taken into
parlours, and kept awake with candles. Good-bye, little Michaelmas
Goose!" And away he went, clomping down-stairs, but not a bit like
Jael.
When bed-time came I was a good deal tired; but after I got into bed I
kept my candle alight for a time, hoping Jael would bring the
Rushlight and put it on the floor near Margery's bed, as I had asked
her to do. But after a while I had to put out my candle, for
Grandmamma is rather particular about it, and then I was so sleepy I
fell asleep.
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