Part 6 (1/2)
”Oh! I thought you said _sell_, and I wondered if you thought Miss Dunbar would pay us for them.”
”Oh, mercy, no!” laughed Peace, and Cherry questioned no further.
But she would have been surprised had she seen this young sister stealing out of the house the next morning with baskets and flowers in her arms, headed in the opposite direction from Miss Dunbar's village home. Once out of sight of the house, Peace broke into a wild run and never stopped until the old stone bridge was reached. Here Allee was waiting for her--a queer little figure in a faded blue gown of long, long ago, hatless, barefooted, but looking oh, so sweet, with her sparkling blue eyes and her mop of tangled yellow curls crowned with a wreath of fragrant clover blossoms. ”How long you've been!” she greeted Peace. ”I thought you would never come. Where's Cherry?”
”I came as soon as I could,” was the panting reply, as Peace dropped her burden on the gra.s.s and smoothed out a rumpled pink dress of as ancient a style as Allee's. ”I had to help with the dishes, and then Faith made me take the milk to Abbott's so's Hope could do something for her. I didn't want Cherry. It takes such a long time to knock any sense into her head that we never would get into town today if she had to be coaxed. Besides, I thought if there were three of us, folks might think the whole family was out peddling, and maybe wouldn't buy like they would of just two. There, don't those boats look lovely? The only thing is, our basket won't hold as many as I hoped it would. I couldn't jam in but fifteen. That will be enough, though, if we can sell them at ten cents each. Oh, I've got a scheme! We will lay our flowers in the basket on the moss and hitch these horns on our dresses. I've got as many as ten pins in my dress which I don't need for anything else.” While she spoke she emptied the birch bark boats of their brilliant cargo again, and deftly pinned the quaint devices to their gowns, so they dangled fantastically from their ribbon handles.
”Now are we ready?” asked Allee, as the last flower was tucked carefully away in its bed of moss, and covered over with newspapers.
”Yes, and well have to hurry or miss the car. It's quite a ways through the woods to the track. I wish they would run clear into Parker, don't you?”
They scrambled down the bank of the creek and scurried away through the trees to the little clearing where the city cars stopped at the end of the line.
”There's a car just ready to start,” panted Peace, and she waved her hand frantically at the conductor who was l.u.s.tily shouting, ”All aboard!” and jangling the bell to hurry up any belated pa.s.sengers.
”Nearly missed it, didn't you, kids?” he said genially, as they clambered up the steps and the car moved slowly away toward the city.
”Yes,” breathed the older girl, settling her luggage on the seat and sitting down beside it. ”I am very glad you waited for us. We're anxious to get down town while our flowers are fresh.”
”Going to sell 'em?”
”Yes. You better buy a basketful. You can have a horn or a boat, and choose your own kind of flowers. We've got pink and yellow lady's-slippers, tiger lilies, Johnny-jump-ups, baby's tears, and a few Jack-in-the-pulpits.”
As she made her explanation, she drew aside the paper protecting her precious blossoms, and the man exclaimed in delight, ”The woods! My, aren't they scrumptious? I'll take a boat. What is your price?”
”Ten cents.”
”Ten cents? Why, child, that isn't enough! Here's a quarter. Gimme lady's-slippers. And say, the motorman would like one, too. He's got a girl. Give him something swell--a little of everything. There, that's right! Stick a tiger lily right in the middle and plaster up the edges like you did mine. Whee! ain't that gorgeous? I'll bring you the dough right away.” s.n.a.t.c.hing up the ma.s.s of vivid colors, he dashed up the length of the car, thrust his head into the motorman's vestibule, and after a moment's conversation came back and dropped a half-dollar into Peace's trembling hand, saying, ”That's his contribution. It's worth it.
Why, there ain't a florist in the city who can show such beauties!”
”Mercy!” exclaimed the bewildered Peace, looking at her money and trying to figure out how much more was needed for her wants. ”That means a pair of shoes and one over. Why, Allee, if everybody would just pay like that, we will get through quick, won't we? But I 'xpect lots of 'em will try to make us take only a nickel. Just s'posing we get enough money to buy shoes for the whole family! Wouldn't they be s'prised? Thank you, Mister Conductor, and thank the motorman, too. We would like to know his girl. Does she ever ride on his car and do you s'pose he would bring her over to play with us some day? We'd meet her at the end of the line.
Or maybe she is too big for us.”
The conductor laughed in boyish delight, ”Yes, I am afraid she is too big. In fact, she is quite a lady--” Here the car stopped for pa.s.sengers, and their new friend went out on the platform where he stayed most of the time until they reached the heart of the city. But as he helped them off the car at the busy corner nearest Cameron's Shoe Store, he said, ”If I was you, I would go right over there in the door of that big building. I think you can sell all the flowers you have.”
So they took up their stand as he had suggested, and waited for customers; but though many pa.s.sers-by idly wondered at the odd little figures so overhung with birch bark trifles, no one stopped to inquire their business until a big, burly policeman, who had been watching the wistful, almost frightened little faces, strolled up to them and kindly asked, ”Are you lost, little girls?”
”No, sir,” promptly responded Peace, jerking aside the cover of her basket and briskly beginning to fill one of the birch bark canoes. .h.i.tched to Allee's dress. ”We are selling flowers. Would you like a chance to buy some that grew in the real woods? We've got money enough now for three shoes, but we need three more to have enough to go around.
They are only ten cents each unless you want to pay more, but we won't sell them for a nickel.”
Seeing the blue-coated officer talking with such odd little waifs, a crowd had quickly gathered about the trio, and a host of friendly voices echoed the policeman's hearty laugh at the jumbled recital.
”I'll take one,” shouted a fas.h.i.+onably dressed man, elbowing his way to the front. ”Give me a horn and fill it up with those little pansies. I haven't seen any of them since I was a kid.”
”Those are Johnny-jump-ups,” responded Peace gravely, detaching a horn from Allee's gown and heaping it up with the tiny flowers. ”It's ten cents or more.”
He laughed. ”How much does 'or more' mean?”
”Much as you think they're worth. They came from the woods, you know.”