"All right," said Patty, "bring your wandering-jew, and let him wander wherever he likes. You'll have to keep your door shut, or he'll wander out and run downstairs. What's in that bag?"
"Rocks, Miss Patty."
"Rocks? What in the world are you going to do with those?"
"I'm going to make a rockery, ma'am, by the window. They're just beautiful. Miss Powers has one in her parlour, and I always wanted one, but mother wouldn't let me have it, 'cause she says it clutters."
"But, what is it?" said Patty. "How do you make it?"
"Oh, you just pile the stones up in a heap, and you stick dried grasses, and autumn leaves and things, in them; and, if ever you have any flowers, you know, you stick them in, too."
"I see; it must be very effective; and sometimes I can give you flowers for it, I'm sure."
"Thank you, Miss Patty; I hope you will. Oh, I'll be so glad to have it; I've been saving these stones for it for years. You see, they're beautiful stones."
Pansy Potts was on her knees arranging the stones, many of which were jagged pieces of quartz shining here and there with mica scales, into a symmetrical pile, which somehow had the effect of a Pagan altar.
"Well," said Patty, as she watched her, "I don't think you'll need any of the decorations I expected to give you."