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FANNY, THE FLOWER-GIRL
"Come, buy my flowers; flowers fresh and fair. Come, buy my flowers.
Please ma'am, buy a nice bunch of flowers, very pretty ones, ma'am.
Please, sir, to have some flowers; nice, fresh ones, miss; only just
gathered; please look."
Thus spoke, or sometimes sung, a little girl of perhaps eight years
old, holding in her hand a neat small basket, on the top of which lay
a clean white cloth, to shade from the sun the flowers which she
praised so highly, and a little bunch of which she presented to
almost every passer-by, in the hope of finding purchasers; while,
after one had passed rudely on, another had looked at her young face
and smiled, another had said, "What a nice child!" but not one had
taken the flowers, and left the penny or the half-penny that was to
pay for them the little girl, as if accustomed to all this, only
arranged again the pretty nosegays that had been disarranged in the
vain hope of selling them, and commenced anew in her pretty singing
tone, "Come, buy my flowers; flowers fresh and fair."
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