A LITTLE MAID IN CLOVER
"Do hurry, Madie, she may run away!" warned Cleo. They were hurrying indeed, and the request seemed superfluous, for never did three girls make more haste in crossing that stretch of meadow. In fact Grace and Cleo were running, and now Madaline jumped to their pace.
"Do you think maybe they keep goats?" the latter managed to ask, and in spite of their serious haste both Cleo and Grace shouted in laughter.
"Goats!" they both exclaimed.
"Because if they do I'm not going near the old place. I'm awfully afraid of goats and geese."
"Because you're so nice and fat!" teased Cleo. "You're afraid they'll take you for—for sausage. But—here we are! Don't let us frighten the child," and her voice was now lowered to a whisper.
The little girl, with the long brown braids, sat in a bed of beautiful pink clover, and with her back to the intruders she had not yet sensed their approach. As before, she wore a white dress and no hat.
"Hello!" spoke Grace cautiously.
She sprang up, but Cleo placed her hand kindly on the basket of ferns and clovers.
"Oh, don't go!" pleaded Cleo. "We want to talk to you."