But it was the slender sprouting of the lily-of-the-valley pips that gave [Violet] most pleasure in her mind. Loveliest of any blossoming thing to her was that green stalk with its white bells. White was the most beautiful color she knew. Yet when she wo

But it was the slender sprouting of the lily-of-the-valley pips that gave [Violet] most pleasure in her mind. Loveliest of any blossom-ing thing to her was that green stalk with its white bells. White was the most beautiful color she knew. Yet when she would say that to Amos he would remind her that the brown of the earth
from which the flowers came was a good color too.

Celyndia . . . clasped tightly her one sure treasure—the doll Amos had made her from corn husks. The face was a piece of leather on which he had painted small features. The face that Celyndia looked into was a replica of her own. . . . She had wanted a saw-
dust dollie with a white china face and pretty pink cheeks, but she loved this one because Amos had made it for her.