“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.”