A FLOWER SALE.

“Oh, look! Look over there!” exclaimed Marty. “What are those lovely white flowers?”

“Wild clematis,” replied Evaline.

“O Hiram, wont you please stop and let us get some?” pleaded Marty. “I'd like so much to take some to mamma.”

Hiram was obliged to go to Black's Mills on an errand that morning, and Marty and Evaline had been allowed to go with him for the ride. Returning he had driven around by another road, as he said one of the horses had lost a shoe, and this road, though longer, was less stony, and therefore easier for the horse than the other. Besides it would take them by McKay's blacksmith-shop, where he could get the horse shod.

It was when going through a valley, which the country folks called “the bottom,” that they saw the clematis. It was growing in the greatest profusion in the meadows and the woods on both sides of the road, rambling over bushes, rocks, fences, everything, with its great starry clusters of white blossoms.

“I don't think you had better go after any,” said Hiram in reply to Marty's request. “Them low places are muddy after the rain yesterday, and your ma might be angry if you was to go home with your shoes all muddied. Besides, there may be snakes under them bushes.”

“Snakes! Oh, dear!” said Marty with a shudder. “But I should like some of those flowers for mamma.”

“Well,” said Hiram, reining in the horses, “if you promise to sit still in the wagon and not be up to any of your tricks of climbing in and out, I'll get you some.”

“Oh, thank you ever so much! I'll sit as still as a mouse. But then I shouldn't like the snakes to bite you.”

“I reckon they wont bite me,” said Hiram, as he leaped over the fence, and taking out his knife proceeded to cut great clusters of flowers.

“Oh, just see the loads he is getting!” cried Marty.

Then as Hiram returned with a huge armful which he carefully laid in the back of the wagon, she said, “Thank you many times, Hiram. You are very kind. How pleased mamma will be! But half these are yours, Evaline.”

After this they had what was to Marty the pleasure of fording a small stream, where the horses were allowed to stop and drink. Presently they had a distant view of a cascade, called Buttermilk Falls. As the road did not approach very near, only a glimpse could be caught of the creamy foam; but Hiram said that some day, if Mr. Stokes could spare him, he would drive them all down to that point, and they could walk from there to the falls.

“I reckon Mrs. Ashford would like to see 'em,” he said.

“Indeed she would,” said Marty.

Altogether the drive was what Marty considered “just perfectly lovely.” And she was delighted also to be able to go home with such quantities of pretty flowers. She was already planning with Evaline what vases and pitchers they should put them in. “How surprised the folks will be when they see us coming in with our arms full!” she said.

When they reached a little wood back of Mr. Stokes' barn, Hiram stopped the horses, saying,

“Now, I've got to go 'round to McKay's, and may have to wait there a considerable spell, so you'd better just hop out here and go home through the woods.”

He helped them out, gave them the flowers, and drove on. The girls sat down under a tree and divided the spoils. Marty contrived to make a basket of her broad-brimmed brown straw hat, in which she carefully placed her flowers. Evaline's basket was her gingham apron held up by the corners.

When they came within sight of the grove where their missionary meetings had been held, Evaline whispered,

“Look, Marty! there are some ladies sitting on our log.”

Sure enough, there were three young ladies, evidently resting after a mountain climb, for their alpenstocks were lying beside them, and one, a bright, black-eyed girl wearing a stylish red jacket, was fanning herself with her broad hat. As Marty and Evaline drew near this young lady called out gaily,

“Well, little flower girls, where did you come from?”

“We've been to Black's Mills in the wagon with Hiram, and when we were coming through the bottom he got this clematis for us,” explained Marty, who always had to be spokesman.

“And it is beautiful!” exclaimed the young lady. “What wouldn't I give for some like it! Did Hiram leave any or did he gather all for you?”

“Oh, there's plenty left!”

“Then I must have some,” said the young lady, jumping up. “Come, girls, follow your leader to this bottom, wherever it is, and let us gather clematis while we may.”

“Fanny, Fanny, you crazy thing! Sit down and behave yourself,” cried one of her friends, laughing. “You have no idea where the place is, and we have been walking for three or four hours already.”

“Oh, you can't go,” said Marty earnestly to Miss Fanny. “It's miles and miles away; down steep hills and across the ford. Besides, Hiram says there may be snakes among the bushes.”

“Well, that settles it,” said Miss Fanny, reseating herself on the log, while the others laughed heartily.

Then Marty said with pretty hesitation, “Wont you have some of my flowers? I'd like to give you some.”

“Some of mine, too,” said Evaline, her generosity overcoming her shyness.

“Oh, no, indeed!” protested Miss Fanny. “Thank you very much, but I would not for the world deprive you of them. Very likely you have got it all arranged exactly how you are going to dispose of them at home.”

So they had, but neither of them was a bit selfish. Marty had already placed her hat on the end of the log and was busily engaged in separating a large bunch of flowers from the rest, and Evaline, approaching the young ladies, held out her apronful towards them.

“Perhaps,” suggested the tall, fair girl, whom her companions called “Dora,” “perhaps you would be willing to play you are real flower girls and would sell us some.”

“Yes, yes,” exclaimed Miss Fanny, “let us make a play of it. Little girls, how much are your flowers?” and she drew forth a long blue purse.

“'T would be mean to sell what didn't cost us anything, and what we didn't have to move a finger to get,” said Marty. “I'd a great deal rather you would let me give you as many as you want.”

“No, it would not be mean at all when you are giving up what you have so much pleasure in. It would only be fair to take something in exchange,” said Miss Fanny. “Just think!” she added persuasively, “isn't there something you'd each like to have a quarter for?”

Marty still held out against taking money for the flowers, but all at once Evaline exclaimed brightly, “Oh, the mission-band!”

“Mission-band!” cried Miss Fanny. “Familiar sound! Are you mission girls?”

“Yes,” they said.

“Why, so are we all. We must shake hands all around.”

They did so, laughing, and feeling like old friends. Then in ten minutes' chatter the young ladies told what cities they were from and what bands they belonged to, found out about Marty's home band, and the newly-formed mountain band she took such an interest in, and which Evaline persisted in saying Marty started. They were particularly delighted in hearing about this last; they thought it highly romantic that the meetings were held in that lovely grove, and were amused by the idea of meeting in the barn in case of rain, and also of Hiram's consenting to join as an honorary member.

“Now,” said Miss Fanny, “you will agree to sell some of your flowers, wont you? See how nicely it all fits in—we want some flowers very much, and you want some money for your mission work. So it's a fair exchange. Girls,” she said, turning to her friends, “you know this is Mrs. Thurston's birthday. Wouldn't it be lovely if we could have about half this clematis to decorate her room with?”

Marty declared if she was going to give them a quarter apiece, she must take all, or most of the flowers, instead of half. After much talk it was finally arranged that the little girls were each to keep what Miss Fanny called “a good double-handful,” and the rest was handed over to the young ladies.

“This is my first missionary money,” said Evaline, caressing her bright silver quarter in delight.

Marty, also, appeared very well pleased with the unexpected increase to her store.

Before separating Miss Fanny proposed another plan. She had already stated that she and her friends were staying at the hotel in Riseborough, and had caused Evaline to point out where she lived.

“Day after to-morrow,” said Miss Fanny, “a party of five or six of us are going to take a drive to see some falls, and coming back we pass right by your house. We shall probably be along towards the close of the afternoon. Now couldn't you be on the lookout for us, and have some more missionary clematis for sale?”

“It doesn't grow very near here,” said Evaline, “and I don't believe Hiram would have time to take us to the bottom again after any. He's busy harvesting.”

“Of course I don't wish you to go to so much trouble about it; but cannot you get us flowers of some kind near here—in some of these woods?”

Evaline, who was anxious for more missionary money, said she thought there were still some cardinal flowers down in the glen, and Miss Fanny said they would be the very thing.

“And then it would be more like earning the missionary money if we had to work ourselves to get the flowers,” said Marty.

“You have been brought up in the orthodox school, I see,” said Miss Fanny, and all the young ladies laughed.

After many last words and kindly adieus, they parted, and the children ran home to relate their adventures.

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