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MORALS.
245
incessant toil. Would that some good genius would step in and bring me flowers already made, so that I might be saved all this trouble." Scarcely had he uttered this thought, when a beautiful being, with bright wings, stood before him, and said. '' You called me, boy: what do you desire?" "I am weary of my employ­ment,'' said the boy. " I live by cultivating flowers. [ am obliged to toil, day by day, with unceasing industry, and [ am only able to ob­tain my daily bread. If I mistake not. you are a kind and powerful genius, who can nive me flowers if you will, and save me all this toil." ;: Here!" said the genius, holding forth a beau­tiful fan of feathers, "take this; wave it over the earth in your llower-pots. and the brightest blossoms of Cashmere will spring up at your bidding!" Saying this, the spirit departed.
The little boy received the charmed fan with great delight, and waved it over one of his flower-pots. A bud immediately shot up through the soil, gradually unfolded itself, and in a few minutes a beautiful moss-rose, bloom­ing and fragrant, stood before him ! I need not describe the transports of the little gar­dener. He found his charmed fan to be just the thing he had desired. He had now no labor to perform—a few sweeps of his fan brought 21*
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