TWO WAYS
[7]
WO little weeds grew on a bank by the
roadside. All summer they had drunk dew and
sunshine, and had been
happy; but now autumn was come, with gray skies, and winds that
nipped and pinched them.
"We shall die soon!" said one little weed. "I should like
to do something pleasant before I die, just to show what
a happy time I have had. I think I will turn red, and
then people will see how I feel."
"You will be a great fool to waste your strength in any such
nonsense!" said the other little weed. "I shall live as
long as I can, and hug the brown bank here."
So the first little weed turned bright scarlet, and was so
pretty that every one
[8] who passed that way turned to look at it. By and by there
came along a most beautiful maiden with her lover; and
when the lover saw the scarlet leaves, he plucked them, and
set them in his maiden's hair, and they lent her a new
grace. This made the little weed so happy that he died for
pure joy.
The second little weed lived on, and turned slowly brown,
like the bank.
"He was a fool!" he said, speaking of his companion.
"He put all his strength into turning red, and so he
died."
"I was proud of him!" said the brown bank. "He did what
he could, and people observed him."
"Yes, but I am alive, and stay with you!" said the weed.
"Much I care!" said the brown bank.
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