The sunshine was so calm and splendid, and the pointed heads of the mignonette smelled so sweet! And when Johannes came to a bed of drooping blue lobelias that seemed always to have shining drops of dewy tears in their eyes purely from sympathy, then he felt so sorry himself for poor Little Johannes that he had to go and sit down on a bench to cry. And there, just as if they understood the situation--in the music tent, concealed by the shrubbery--the portly band-master and his musicians, in their flat, gold-embroidered caps, were playing, very feelingly, a melancholy folksong. Marjon, however, who persistently kept business in mind, was on the marble esplanade, deep in jugglery with plates and eggs and apples. Johannes saw it, and was a little ashamed of himself. He began trying to make verses: "Ah, scarlet geranium, blossom true! Ah, lovely lobelia blue! Why look those eyes so mournfully? For whom do you wear, In the morning bright, Those glistening tears of dew? "Ah! do you still know me?..." But he got no further, because he found it too hard, and also because he had no paper with him. Just then Marjon came up: "Why do you sit there bungling, Jo, and let me do all the work? As soon as the bread and butter comes you'll be sure to be on hand." She spoke rather tartly, and it was not surprising that Johannes retorted curtly: "I am not always thinking of money, and something to eat, like you." That hit harder than he thought; and now the sun was sparkling not only upon the dew-drops in the lobelia's eyes, but upon those in the two clear eyes of a little girl. However, Marjon was not angry, but said gently: "Were you making verses?" Johannes nodded, without speaking. "Excuse me, Jo. May I hear them?" And Johannes began: "Ah, scarlet geranium, blossom true! Ah, lovely lobelia blue! Why look those eyes so earnestly? Why thus bedight, This morning bright With glistening tears of dew? "Oh, do you still think of the olden days...." Again he broke down, and gazed silently out before him, with sorrowful eyes. "Are you going to finish it, Jo?" asked Marjon with quiet deference. "You just stay here, I shall get on very well alone. See if I don't!" And she returned to the fashionable, general promenade, with Keesje, her plates, her eggs, and her apples. Then Johannes looked up, and suddenly saw before him something so charming and captivating that he became conscious of an entirely new sensation. It was as if until now he had been living in a room whose walls were pictured with flowers and mountains and waterfalls and blue sky, and as if those walls had suddenly vanished, and he could see all about him the real blue heavens, and the real woods and rivers.