"Well he might! Cunora, he took that tiny stick in his hand and
moved the tip along the surface of the trough; and, behold, a
miracle!"
"What happened?" breathlessly.
"In the twinkling of an eye, the stick blossomed! Blossomed, Cunora,
before mine eyes! And such a blossom no eye ever beheld before. Its
color was the color of the poppy, but its shape--most amazing! Its
shape continually changed, Cunora; it danced about, and rose and
fell; it flowed, even as water floweth in a stream, but always
upward!"
"Rolla!" incredulously. "Ye would not awaken me to tell such
nonsense!"
"But it were not nonsense!" insisted Rolla. "This blossom was even
as I say: a living thing, as live as a kitten! And as it bloomed,
behold, the stick was consumed! In a moment or two the man dropped
what was left of it; I stooped--so it seemed--to pick it up; but he
stopped me, and set his foot upon the beautiful thing!"
She sighed, and then hurried on. "Saying something further, also
reassuring, this angel brought forth another of the strange sticks;
and when he had made this one bloom, he touched it to the little
pile of leaves.
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