Hope Benham: A Story for Girls

Ten cents a bunch! ten cents a bunch!
A party of three young girls coming briskly around the southwest corner of the smart little Brookside station, hearing this call, turned, then stopped, then exclaimed all together,—
Oh, how perfectly lovely! the first I have seen. Just what I want! and they pulled out their purses to buy just what they wanted, just what everybody wants,—a bunch of trailing arbutus.
And they are made up so prettily, without all that stiff arbor-vitæ framing. What is this dear little leafy border? asked one of the young ladies, glancing up from her contemplation of the flowers to the flower-seller.
It's the partridge-berry leaf.
Oh! and you picked them all yourself,—the arbutus and this partridge-berry leaf?
Yes.
Oh! repeated the young lady, giving a stare at the little flower-seller,—a stare that was quickly followed by another question,—
Do you live near here?
Yes; very near.
But you don't find this arbutus in Brookside?