"Well, Rosamond," said her mother, "you don't think this shop so pretty as the rest?" "No, not nearly; it's black and dark, and there are nothing but shoes all round; and besides, there's a very disagreeable smell." "That smell is the smell of new leather." "Is it? Oh!" said Rosamond, looking round, "there is a pair of little shoes; they'll just fit me, I'm sure." "Perhaps they might, but you cannot be sure till you have tried them on, any more than you can be quite sure that you should like the purple vase _exceedingly_, till you have examined it more attentively." "Why, I don't know about the shoes, certainly, till I've tried; but, mamma, I'm quite sure I should like the flower-pot." "Well, which would you rather have, that jar, or a pair of shoes? I will buy either for you." "Dear mamma, thank you--but if you could buy both?" "No, not both." "Then the jar, if you please." "But I should tell you that I shall not give you another pair of shoes this month." "This month! that's a very long time indeed. You can't think how these hurt me. I believe I'd better have the new shoes--but yet, that purple flower-pot--Oh, indeed, mamma, these shoes are not so very, very bad; I think I might wear them a little longer; and the month will soon be over: I can make them last to the end of the month, can't I? Don't you think so, mamma?" "Nay, my dear, I want you to think for yourself: you will have time enough to consider about it whilst I speak to Mr. Sole about my boots." Mr. Sole was by this time at leisure; and whilst her mother was speaking to him, Rosamond stood in profound meditation, with one shoe on, and the other in her hand. "Well, my dear, have you decided?" "Mamma!--yes--I believe. If you please--I should like the flower-pot; that is, if you won't think me very silly, mamma." "Why, as to that, I can't promise you, Rosamond; but when you are to judge for yourself, you should choose what will make you the happiest; and then it would not signify who thought you silly." "Then, mamma, if that's all, I'm sure the flower-pot would make me the happiest," said she, putting on her old shoe again; "so I choose the flower-pot." "Very well, you shall have it: clasp your shoe and come home." Rosamond clasped her shoe, and ran after her mother: it was not long before the shoe came down at the heel, and many times was she obliged to stop, to take the stones out of her shoe, and often was she obliged to hop with pain; but still the thoughts of the purple flower-pot prevailed, and she persisted in her choice. When they came to the shop with the large window, Rosamond felt her joy redouble, upon hearing her mother desire the servant, who was with them, to buy the purple jar, and bring it home. He had other commissions, so he did not return with them. Rosamond, as soon as she got in, ran to gather all her own flowers, which she had in a corner of her mother's garden.