"No, my darling, you did not know. But you can come again and bring a
living plant. All have to learn. Many of those you now see entering
did not know the first time they came. Take courage--your growing plant
is ready for you."
And then it was, I think, that he smiled in his sleep and whispered, "It
must be a growin' one."
Yet for a moment or two he stood by the silver gate and watched, for he
felt the angel wanted him to do so. And some things surprised him. The
most beautiful plants were not always carried by the prettiest or most
attractive children. Some of their bearers were sadly poor-looking--
one, above all, a little cripple in shabby clothes, who could scarcely
hobble in--but oh, what a glorious wealth of snow-white lilies he
carried, and how his face shone with delight at the gate-keeper's
approving smile. And once inside--for Jasper gazed longingly after
him--how was it?--such things come to us in dreams, and are they not the
shadow of the true?--the shining seemed to clothe the stunted figure as
with a garment, till he stood there erect and beautiful--a very angel
himself. And murmuring, "P'raps he'll be the one at the gate the next
time I come," Jasper awoke.
But it was not yet even midnight, so, as the scent of his flower--poor
little flower, faithful to the last, though it had to wither--reached
his but half-awakened senses, the boy smiled again, and this time went
off into dreamless slumber.