"There is a Mr. Kirkman,—one brother keeps a confectionery, and the other supplies flowers. But perhaps I may be able to do as well by you. However, I will give you his card."
Hal and Mr. Thomas parted very good friends; and the florist gave him some valuable advice.
"That fellow will succeed," he said to himself, watching Hal's retreating figure. "His whole soul is in the flowers; and he blushes over them as if they were a sweetheart. Looks pale and delicate, though."
Truth to tell, Hal had been working pretty hard. The school was a great tax upon him; and the labor with his plants had been severe. Kit and Granny tried to save him all they could in the way of getting in winter vegetables, and looking after the chickens.
Ten days after his visit to Salem, he received a little note from Mr. Thomas on this wise.
"Bring me on Thursday morning, if you have them, three dozen roses, assorted colors, heliotrope, and fine sprays of fuchsia, if yours are still in bloom."
"F. Thomas."
Hal was delighted. Through September they had managed to get along on the proceeds of their garden, and the fruit; but his first month's pay had to go for clothes. It almost broke Granny's heart to take it.
"Why, I shall earn some more!" Hal exclaimed with his gay laugh. "It is just what it is for, Granny, to spend. I'm thankful to be able to earn it."
It was the middle of October now; and there had been some severe frost already. Tender out-doors plants were a mass of blackened ruins.