LITTLE MARY: It’s my turn to get “Morning kiss” first, this morning, Miss Rachel. You kissed Louise first yesterday. You said you’d kiss us “alphebettically.” (_Ending in a shriek_). You promised! (_Rachel kisses Mary, who subsides_).
LITTLE NANCY (_Imperiously_): Now, me. (_Rachel kisses her, and then amid shrieks, recriminations, pulling of hair, jostling, etc., she kisses the rest. The small tot is still oblivious to everything that is going on_).
RACHEL (_Laughing_): You children will pull me limb from limb; and then I’ll be all dead; and you’ll be sorry--see, if you aren’t. (_They fall back immediately. Tom and John watch in amused silence. Rachel loses all self-consciousness, and seems to bloom in the children’s midst_). Edith! come here this minute, and let me tie your hair-ribbon again. Nancy, I’m ashamed of you, I saw you trying to pull it off. (_Nancy looks abashed but mischievous_). Louise, you look as sweet as sweet, this morning; and Jenny, where did you get the pretty, pretty dress?
LITTLE JENNY (_Snuffling, but proud_): My mother made it. (_Pauses with more snuffles_). My mother says I have a very bad cold. (_There is a brief silence interrupted by the small tot with the geranium_).
LITTLE MARTHA (_In a sweet, little voice_): I--have--a--pitty--’ittle flower.
RACHEL: Honey, it’s beautiful. Don’t you want “Morning kiss” too?
RACHEL: Come, honey. (_Rachel kisses her_). Are you going to give the pretty flower to Jenny’s teacher? (_Vigorous shakings of the head in denial_). Is it for--mother? (_More shakings of the head_). Is it for--let’s see--Daddy? (_More shakings of the head_). I give up. To whom are you going to give the pretty flower, honey?
LITTLE MARTHA: Muzzer and I picked it--for “oo.” Here ’tis. (_Puts her finger in her mouth, and gives it shyly_).
RACHEL: Well, I’m going to pay you with three big kisses. One! Two! Three!
LITTLE MARTHA: I can count, One! Two! Free! Tan’t I? I am going to school soon; and I wants to put the flower in your hair.
RACHEL (_Kneels_): All right, baby. (_Little Martha fumbles and Rachel helps her_).
LITTLE MARTHA (_Dreamily_): Miss Rachel, the ’ittle flower loves you. It told me so. It said it wanted to lie in your hair. It is going to tell you a pitty ’ittle secret. You listen awful hard--and you’ll hear. I wish I were a fairy and had a little wand, I’d turn everything into flowers. Wouldn’t that be nice, Miss Rachel?