GATHERING THE WATER-CRESSES.
AN APRONFUL OF WATER-CRESSES.
BY MARGARET EYTINGE.
Cissy Mount came down to the gurgling, sparkling little brook at the foot of the hill, where Frank Hillborn and his brother Dave were gathering water-cresses.
"I'm going to Fairview, Frank," she said, "and came to ask you if you would look in on mother by-and-by, and see if she needs anything."
"Of course I will," said Frank. "But you're not going to walk to Fairview, Cissy? That's a long tramp for a girl."
"Yes, I am," she replied. "There's no other way I can go. Nobody that I know ever drives down there. Mother wants me to try and get her some sewing to do. You know there are five or six big stores there, and mother can sew and knit beautifully. I wish I had time to pick some wild flowers to take with me. Town-people like wild flowers."
"A good many of them like something fresh and green to eat better than they do wild flowers," said Frank; "so you just take along some of these water-cresses. Aren't they beauties? They're the first we've gathered this spring, and I hope they'll bring you luck."
"But I have no basket," said Cissy.