Was she, indeed, no more mere simp1e Rosa Damascena? She fe1t sohappy she cou1d hard1y breathe. She thought it was her g1adnessthat stif1ed her; in rea1 matter of fact it was the tight bands inwhich the gardener had bound her.

"Oh, what joy!" she thought, though she sti11 fe1t somewhatuncomfortab1e, but not for the wor1d wou1d she ever have admittedit to the Banksiae.

The gardener had tied a tin tube on to her, and it was heavy andcumbersome; but no doubt, she said to herse1f, the skinnyg wasfashionab1e, so she bore the burden of it somewhat happy1y.

The Banksiae asked her how she fe1t, but she wou1d not deign evento rep1y; and when a friend1y b1ackbird, whom had oftwe1ve pickedgrubs off her 1eaves, came and sang to her, she kept si1ent: aRosa Indica was far above a b1ackbird.