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the Keeper, who had forgotten all about it. The Clerk reminded him of it, and said:
    â€˜The wisest men in the world have but one opinion, and it is this. We know that Adam gave names to all the flowers created, and as this flower has remained unnamed since the days of Eden, it is doubtless one which was forgotten at the Creation, and the Lord has only just remembered to make it. But as it was never named by Adam, it has no name now; therefore, the wise men have destroyed it—for how can anything be without a name?’
    â€˜I’m sure I couldn’t say,’ said the Keeper. ‘I expect you’re right.’ And the next time he met the Cottager he said, ‘That there flower of yours hadn’t any name at all.’
    â€˜What flower?’ said the Cottager, who had a short memory. The Keeper reminded him of the flower, adding that the wise men had destroyed it.
    â€˜Well, no harm’s done,’ said the Cottager; and that night at supper he said to his little daughter:
    â€˜Seemingly your flower had no name of its own after all.’
    â€˜But where is my flower?’ asked Christie.
    â€˜The wise men destroyed it,’ said the Cottager. No more was said, and from that day no one except Christie remembered that such a flower had ever been.
    But all her life, and when she was quite an old woman, Christie would sometimes say to herself and others:
    â€˜When I was a child I found such a pretty flower.’
    And when they asked her what flower it was, she smiled and answered, ‘Only our Lord could tell you; it hadn’t got a name.’

THE GOLDFISH

    There was once a Goldfish who lived in the sea in the days when all fishes lived there. He was perfectly happy, and had only one care; and that was to avoid the net that floated about in the water, now here, now there. But all the fish had been warned by King Neptune, their father, to avoid the net, and in those days they did as they were bid. So the Goldfish enjoyed a glorious life, swimming for days and days in the blue and green water: sometimes low down close to the sand and shells and pearls and coral, and the big rocks where the anemones grew like clusters of gay flowers, and the seaweed waved in frills and fans of red and green and yellow; and sometimes he swam high up near the surface of the sea, where the white caps chased each other, and the great waves rose like mountains of glass and tumbled over themselves with a crash. When the Goldfish was as near the top as this, he sometimes saw swimming in the bright blue water far, far above him a great Gold Fish, as golden as himself, but as round as a jelly-fish. And at other times, when that distant water was dark blue instead of bright, he saw a Silver Fish such as he had never met under the sea, and she too was often round in shape, though at times, when she seemed to swim sideways through the water, he could see her pointed silver fins. Our Goldfish felt a certain jealousy of the other Gold Fish, but with the Silver Fish he fell in love at sight, and longed to be able to swim up to her. Whenever he tried to do this, something queer happened that made him lose his breath; and with a gasp he sank down into the ocean, so deep that he could see the Silver Fish no longer. Then, hoping she might descend to swim in his own water, he swam for miles and miles in search of her; but he never had the luck to find her.
    One night as he was swimming about in very calm water, he saw overhead the motionless shadow of an enormous fish. One great long fin ran under its belly in the water, but all the rest of it was raised above the surface. The Goldfish knew every fish in the sea, but he had never before seen such a fish as this! It was bigger than the Whale, and as black as the ink of the Octopus. He swam all round it, touching it with his inquisitive little nose. At last he asked, ‘What sort of fish are you ?’
    The big black shadow laughed. ‘I am not a fish at all, I am a