Mrs. Williams’ hobby was (11) . She loved
flowers very much and had a small but beautiful garden. In summer, her
(12) were always the best in her street. One summer
afternoon her bell rang and she’ went to the front door. She saw a small boy
outside. He was about seven years old and was holding a big (13)
of beautiful roses in his hand. "I’m (14)
roses," he said. "Do you want any They are quite cheap. Five pences
for a big bunch. They are fresh. I picked them this afternoon."
"My boy," Mrs. Williams answered, "I pick roses whenever I want, and don’t
(15) anything for them because I have lots in my
garden." "Oh, no, you haven’t," said the small boy. "There
aren’t any roses in your garden--because they are here in my hand!"