“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,