"Where shall we luxuriate first, Bev?" asked Timmy. "Oh, don't make me choose, Timmy! The garden is ever so wonderful today! I feel simply limb-fresh just looking at it all! Let's caper near the flowers!"
They capered near the flowers. Their all-over freshness was thrilling. They thrilled there as was their wont, allowing the breeze to toss their hair. It made them laugh. "Won't mother be cross with us that we mussed our hair together, Bev?" "She would, Timmy, if she thought we weren't country-fresh from top to toe. As long as we have Breeze, mother knows our skin has the sparkle of spring, and that's the most important thing of all!"
Timmy closed his eyes to let his eyelids enjoy some of the breeze, and when he opened them, Bev was not to be seen. "Bev?" he called. "Where have you got to?" Timmy became concerned for just a short moment, but then, as he turned about, Bev's head popped up from the rose bushes. "Surprise!" Bev shouted. "Oh!" Timmy cried. "There you are! What a tricksome sister you are! Tra-la-ha-ha-ha-ha! What a great jig you've played on me! Fa-la-la-ha-ha-ha!"
They laughed together in the roses. "Do you know, Timmy..." asked Bev, "...I don't think I can come out of the roses. They've all snagged my coat! I think the flowers are a merry trickster too! Fa-la-la-ha-ha-ha-ha!" Timmy chided the roses "Oh, you naughty roses. You let my sister go. You're ever so fiendish. really you are! Aah-ha ha ha!"
They both laughed in the breeze, and in the flowers. They laughed ever so hard. The flowers tore at Bev's coat, and at Timmy's sleeves as he tried to get Bev out. Then the thorns tore at their skin, which had the sparkle of spring. The breeze was so fresh! The more they struggled, the more they got scratched by the rose thorns. There were little drops of blood from finger tip to finger tip. They had to pause to catch their breath. They were becoming woozy.
"I say, Timmy," Bev said, "with so many scratches, we'll look like we've been in The Wars! Won't mother be frightfully worried if we don't come in for afternoon tea?" "I should say not, Bev" Timmy reassured her. "There's never been a soldier so confident and country-fresh as us!" "Oh, Timmy! You delightfully clever boy! What a grand, grand joke! Tra-la-la-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!" Bev liked this joke ever so much and laughed together with her brother in the garden breeze, struggling, laughing and bleeding in the flowers, until it became dark and the fire brigade came.
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