Part 18 (1/2)
”You may give money, but you can't vote,” Marty instructed him.
Hiram thought over it a good while, and then said very gravely, though his eyes twinkled, ”Well, I guess giving money's the main thing after all, isn't it? I reckon I'll join if you'll let me.”
”We'll be ever so glad to have you,” said Marty warmly. She felt as if it was partly her band, and was interested in seeing it growing and flouris.h.i.+ng.
They were nearly back to the house when Evaline suddenly stopped, exclaiming,
”You never told him he might come to the meetings!”
”Neither I did! How came I to forget that! We must go right back and tell him.”
When they reached the barn again, they saw Hiram at the foot of the hill, just entering the next field; but hearing the girls shouting, ”Hiram! Hiram!” and seeing them running to overtake him, he strode back across the fence, and seated himself on the top rail to wait for them.
”I forgot a most important thing,” said Marty, panting for breath.
”Mamma says honorary members may attend the meetings.”
”Maybe I hadn't better attend them,” said Hiram with a quizzical look.
”I might want to vote.”
”Oh, do you think you should?” asked Marty anxiously.
Hiram bit off a piece of straw and chewed it, slowly moving his head from side to side, appearing to meditate profoundly, while the little girls waited in suspense.
”Well,” he said, after he had apparently thought the matter over, ”I suppose I can hold up from voting; and I reckon you can count on me to come.”
And come he did, the very next Sunday, appearing to take great interest in the proceedings.
CHAPTER XVI.
A FLOWER SALE.
”Oh, look! Look over there!” exclaimed Marty. ”What are those lovely white flowers?”
”Wild clematis,” replied Evaline.
”O Hiram, wont you please stop and let us get some?” pleaded Marty. ”I'd like so much to take some to mamma.”
Hiram was obliged to go to Black's Mills on an errand that morning, and Marty and Evaline had been allowed to go with him for the ride.
Returning he had driven around by another road, as he said one of the horses had lost a shoe, and this road, though longer, was less stony, and therefore easier for the horse than the other. Besides it would take them by McKay's blacksmith-shop, where he could get the horse shod.
It was when going through a valley, which the country folks called ”the bottom,” that they saw the clematis. It was growing in the greatest profusion in the meadows and the woods on both sides of the road, rambling over bushes, rocks, fences, everything, with its great starry cl.u.s.ters of white blossoms.
”I don't think you had better go after any,” said Hiram in reply to Marty's request. ”Them low places are muddy after the rain yesterday, and your ma might be angry if you was to go home with your shoes all muddied. Besides, there _may_ be snakes under them bushes.”
”Snakes! Oh, dear!” said Marty with a shudder. ”But I should like some of those flowers for mamma.”
”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.”