It was cold -- there was going to be a hard frost -- and Miss Octavia 's plants and flowers would certainly be spoiled . Tommy thought he ought to be glad , but he was n't . He was sorry -- not for Miss Octavia , but for her flowers . Tommy had a queer , passionate love for flowers in his twisted little soul . It was a shame that they should be nipped -- that all the glory of crimson and purple and gold hidden away in those little green rows and circles should never have a chance to blossom out royally . Tommy could never have put this thought into words , but it was there in his heart . He wished he could save the flowers . And could n't he ? Newspapers spread over the beds and tied around the dahlias would save them , Tommy knew . He had seen Miss Octavia doing it other springs . And he knew there was a big box of newspapers in a little shed in her backyard . Ned Williams had told him there was , and that the shed was never locked . Tommy hurried home as quickly as he could and got a ball of twine out of his few treasures . Then he went back to Miss Octavia 's garden . The next forenoon Miss Octavia got off the train at the Arundel station with a very grim face . There had been an unusually severe frost for the time of year . All along the road Miss Octavia had seen gardens frosted and spoiled . She knew what she should see when she got to her own -- the dahlia stalks drooping and black and limp , the nasturtiums and balsams and poppies and pansies all withered and ruined . But she did n't . Instead she saw every dahlia carefully tied up in a newspaper , and over all the beds newspapers spread out and held neatly in place with pebbles .
Miss Octavia flew into her garden XXXXX a radiant face .
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