CHAPTER IVWHO IS CLEMATIS?
The bright sun was shining on the red buds of the maple tree when Clematis woke the next morning.
It was early. The rising bell had not rung. Clematis got up and looked out of the open window.
She could see nothing but houses across the street, but the buds of the maple were beautiful in the sun.
“I wish I had some of those buds to put in my room,” said Clematis to herself.
She took her clothes, and beganto dress. While she was dressing, she looked again at the maple buds, and wanted them more than ever.
“If I reached out a little way, I could get some of those, I just know I could,” she thought.
As soon as she got her shoes on she pushed the window wide open.
She leaned out. Some beautiful buds were very near, but she could not quite reach them.
She leaned out a little farther. Then she climbed upon the window sill.
They were still out of her reach.
For a minute she stopped. Then she put one foot out in the gutter. With one hand she held the blind, and reached out to the nearest branch.
At last she had it. She drew it nearer, and broke off a piece with many buds.
As the piece broke off, the branch flew back again to its place, and Clematis almost fell back through the window to the floor.
She patted the red buds and made a little bunch of them. She filled her cup with water and put the buds in it; then she put it on the bureau.
Clematis was looking proudly at them, when the door opened, and Miss Rose came in.
She looked at Clematis, and then at the buds.
“Why, Clematis!” she said.
Then she looked out the window. There, several feet beyondthe window, was the broken end. Drops of sap were running from the white wood.
“How did you get those buds?” asked Miss Rose.
“I reached out of the window,” said Clematis, “why, was that stealing?”
Miss Rose gasped.
“Clematis, do you mean to tell me that you climbed out of the window and reached for that branch?”
Clematis nodded. Tears came into her eyes. She must have done something very wrong, but she did not know just what was so wicked about taking a small branch from a maple tree.
“I didn’t know it was stealing,” she sobbed.
“It isn’t that, Clematis. It is not wrong to take a twig, but think of the danger. Don’t you know you might have fallen and killed yourself?”
Clematis wiped her eyes on her sleeve.
“Oh, that’s nothing,” she said, “I had hold of the blind all the time. I couldn’t fall.”
“Now, Clematis, no child ever did such a thing before, and you must never, never, do it again. Do you understand?”
“Yes’m.”
“Do you promise?”
“Yes’m.”
“Well then, let’s get ready for breakfast.”
Clematis washed her face andhands, brushed her hair, and cleaned her teeth carefully.
Soon she was ready to go down stairs, and took one of the maple buds to put in her dress.
As they went out, Miss Rose saw that she wanted to say something.
“Do you want something?” she said.
“Can I help Katie this morning?”
“After breakfast I will ask Mrs. Snow, but breakfast is almost ready now.”
Just then the breakfast bell rang, and Clematis marched in with the other children. She was thinking about Deborah, and wondering if she had caught any rats.
For breakfast they had baked apples, oatmeal with milk, and rye gems.
It did not take them long to eat this. Soon they were through, and ready for the morning work.
As they were getting up, Mrs. Snow came to speak to Miss Rose.
Clematis held her breath when she heard what was said.
“Perhaps this little girl would like to go down and play with her kitten a while. We can find some work for her by and by.”
“Oh yes,” said Clematis, “I would.”
“Well, you can tell Katie I said you might. Be sure not to get in her way.”
Off ran Clematis to the kitchen, to find her dear Deborah.
There she was, curled up like a little ball under the stove.
She looked with sleepy eyes at Clematis, and crawled down into her lap.
Then Clematis smoothed her and patted her, till she purred her very sweetest purr.
“Ah,” said Katie. “It’s a fine cat. It caught a big rat in the night, and brought it in, as proud as pie.”
“Do you think they will let me keep her?” asked Clematis.
“Oh, I guess so. If she catches the rats, she will be welcome here. You can be sure of that. I hate rats.”
While Clematis and Deborah were having such a good time in the kitchen, Mrs. Snow took Miss Rose to her room.
“Well, Miss Rose, have you found out anything about that strange little child?”
“Not very much yet. She talks very little, and has had very little care.”
“What makes you think so?”
“Why, the poor child didn’t know what a tooth brush was for. She said she always left her clothes in a pile by the bed, because she could find them all in the morning.”
Mrs. Snow sighed.
“Dear me, she will need much care, to teach her how to do thingswell. But I guess her folks will come for her before long.”
“I don’t know who her folks can be. She has never learned any prayers.”
“Poor child, she must be a sad case.” Mrs. Snow sighed again.
“But she is very fearless. This morning, before I went to her room, she had climbed out of the window and broken off a piece of the maple tree with buds on it.”
“What, way up there at the roof?”
“Yes, she said that was nothing, for she had hold of the blind.”
“What did she want the branch for?”
“She wanted it for the redbuds. She broke them off and put them in her cup, like flowers.”
“Well, Miss Rose, take her out to walk this afternoon, and ask her some questions. Perhaps you can find out where she lives.”
CHAPTER VCLEMATIS BEGINS TO LEARN
Clematis played with Deborah all the morning. She forgot about helping Katie, and when Katie asked her if she wanted to help her peel some potatoes, she said:
“I don’t know how.”
“Didn’t you ever peel potatoes?”
“Didn’t you ever peel potatoes?”
“Didn’t you ever peel potatoes?” asked Katie.
“No, I never had to do any work.”
“Well, you will have to be doing some work round here. It’s lucky for you that Mrs. Snow is good to little girls. You wouldhave a hard row to hoe in some homes, believe me.”
Clematis was busy tying her hair ribbon round Deborah’s neck, and did not answer.
The morning went fast, and the dinner was ready before Clematis was ready to leave her kitten.
For dinner they had soup, in the little yellow bowls, with a big piece of Johnny cake, and some ginger bread.
As soon as dinner was over, Miss Rose brought Clematis a brown coat.
It was not new, but it was neat and warm, much better than the one she had worn the day before.
“Come, Clematis,” she said,“I am going out to walk. Don’t you want to go with me?”
“Where are you going?” asked Clematis, shrinking back.
“Oh, out in the park, and down by the river. I think you will like it.”
Clematis put on the coat as quickly as she could. Then she took Miss Rose by the hand.
“Come on, let’s go,” she said.
“You might wait till I get my coat and hat on.” Miss Rose was laughing at her.
Soon they were down by the river. Miss Rose sat on the gravel, while Clematis ran along the edge of the water.
She sailed bits of wood for boats, and threw little stones in, to see the rings they made. She was very, very happy.
“Clematis,” said Miss Rose, “don’t you remember the street you lived on?”
Clematis thought a minute.
“How would you know the street you lived on if nobody ever told you?”
Miss Rose thought a moment.
“Don’t you remember your mother’s name?”
Clematis shook her head.
“I don’t remember. It was a long time ago.”
“Do you mean she died a long time ago?”
Miss Rose asked her some other questions. At last she said:
“Well, tell me the name of the man you lived with.”
“His name was Smith.”
“Oh dear, there are so many Smiths, we shall never guess the right one. Dear me, Clematis. I don’t know how we shall ever find your home.”
Clematis threw a big stone into the water, which made a big splash.
“I hope you never will,” she said.
“Why, Clematis! Do you mean that you wish never to go back where you came from?”
“Well, how would you like to live in a place where you had to stay in an old brick yard all day, and never saw even grass?”
Thinking of the land of flowers
Thinking of the land of flowers
Miss Rose thought a while. Then she got up and started back to the Home.
Clematis followed her slowly. She was sorry to go.
That night Mrs. Snow talked with Miss Rose again.
“She must have lived in the city,” said Miss Rose. “She had to stay in a yard paved with bricks all day. She doesn’t remember her parents at all. She ran away, that is sure.”
“I hardly know what to do,” said Mrs. Snow, at last. “She can stay here for a while, and perhaps the people she lived with will find her here.”
So Mrs. Snow told the policeman what they had found out,and he said they would do the best they could to find her people.
That night Clematis did not go to the little room near the maple tree to sleep. She went into the big room.
Jane slept in the bed next to hers. Miss Rose told her to see that Clematis had what help she needed in going to bed.
The day had been a busy one for Clematis. She was very sleepy.
“I guess I won’t bother with teeth and things tonight,” she said to herself.
So she pulled off her clothes, and got into bed.
“Oh Clematis, you can’t do that. You’ve got to pick up yourclothes, and clean your teeth, and do lots of things.”
Jane came and shook her, as she snuggled under the clothes.
“Oh, I’m too tired tonight. I’ll do it tomorrow night.”
Clematis did not stir.
Just then Miss Rose came into the sleeping room.
She saw Jane trying to get Clematis out of bed. She also saw the pile of clothes.
“Clematis, I can’t have this. Get right out of bed, and do as I told you last night.”
She wanted children to obey her, and she had tried to be very kind to Clematis.
The other children giggled, as Clematis got slowly out of bed.
But Miss Rose frowned at them.
“You see that she does every single thing she ought,” said Miss Rose to Jane, “and if she doesn’t, you tell me.”
Then Miss Rose went away, and left the girls to get ready for bed.
Poor Clematis had a hard time of it. The other girls made fun of her, because she was so clumsy and slow. At last she got her clothes folded up, and went to wash.
“She isn’t washing her neck and ears,” said Jane to herself, “but I guess I won’t tell.”
So at last Clematis got into bed again, and went to sleep.
CHAPTER VICLEMATIS HAS A HARD ROW TO HOE
It was all Jane could do the next morning to make Clematis get up when the rising bell rang.
“I don’t want to get up yet,” grumbled Clematis. “I will get up pretty soon.”
“No you won’t either. You’ll get up right off now. We have to be ready for breakfast in fifteen minutes.”
Jane pulled down the clothes, while the other girls laughed. Poor Clematis had to get up.
At first she was cross, but whenshe looked out of the window, she smiled.
From this window she could see way off to a beautiful hill, golden brown in the morning sun.
Part way to the hill was a river. Its little waves shimmered and danced. Its shores were quite green already.
Now Clematis was wide awake and happy. She started to dress.
“Wash first,” said Jane.
Clematis started to grumble again, but when she looked into the mirror above the wash stand, there was the river, smiling at her in the mirror.
She knew this river. She had been there. Perhaps she would go again some day.
For breakfast they had a bowl of oatmeal and milk, with two slices of bread.
Clematis looked around while they were eating.
“Don’t you ever get a cup of coffee for breakfast?” she asked of Sally, who sat next to her.
“Oh, no, never, but sometimes we have cocoa, on real cold mornings.”
Clematis turned up her nose a little. She did not care much for oatmeal.
“I like doughnuts and coffee a great deal better,” she said.
“Huh, you won’t have any doughnuts and coffee round here,” said Jane. “You’d better eat what you have.”
Clematis took her advice, and had just finished her bread, when the bell sounded.
“Now, Clematis,” said Miss Rose, “you are going to stay here for a while anyway, so you must take your part in the daily work.”
“Yes’m.”
“I think you said yesterday you would like to help Katie in the kitchen.”
“Oh, yes’m,” said Clematis. She had been thinking of Deborah and longing to see her.
“Well, let’s go down and see what Katie can find for you to do.”
There was Deborah, sleeping under the edge of the stove.Clematis took her while Miss Rose was asking Katie.
“This little girl thinks she would like to have some work down here in the kitchen, Katie. Is there anything you would like her to do?”
“Ah, no thank you, Miss Rose, she wouldn’t be any use at all.”
Clematis looked up. She did not feel very happy.
“Why, don’t you think she could help you?” Miss Rose looked surprised.
“No miss, she is no use at all. Yesterday I asked her to peel some potatoes, but she never lifted a finger. She said she didn’t know how.”
“Why, Clematis, I am surprised.”
“Well,” said Clematis, “if you never learned to peel potatoes, would you know how to do it?”
“Yes, I think I should. Katie would have shown you, if you had been willing to try.”
Clematis hung her head, and buried her face in Deborah’s soft fur.
“You see, miss, she’s of no use to me. She don’t want to work at all. Her cat, now, is a worker. She caught a big rat in the night.”
“Well then, Clematis, we shall have to ask Mrs. Snow to find you something else to do.”
Clematis dropped her kitten,and the tears ran down her cheeks, as she followed Miss Rose upstairs.
Katie looked after her with a sad smile.
“She’ll have a hard row to hoe round here, believe me,” she said to herself.
Mrs. Snow frowned when Miss Rose told her.
“I am very sorry,” she said. “She may work with Jane, then, in the dormitory. Jane is a good worker and can teach her.”
Poor Clematis was rather frightened when she heard that she was to work in the dormitory. She was afraid a dormitory was some dark place like a prison. She did not know that the dormitorywas the big room where she had slept.
Soon Clematis was back in the big room again. There she took the place of another little girl, who was making up the beds with Jane.
“Hurry up now,” said Jane. “We have got to get these beds all made up before nine o’clock. School begins then.”
She showed Clematis how to tuck the sheet in, down at the foot, and pull it up smooth at the head of the bed.
Clematis was looking out of the window, way over the river, to the sunny brown hill.
“There now. Why don’t you look out?” said Jane. For Clematis had given such a pull thatshe pulled all the clothes out at the foot of the bed.
“I was looking out, so there,” said Clematis.
“Yes, looking out of the window, that’s all.” Jane was vexed.
“Now hurry up and get them tucked in again.”
But Clematis was very clumsy, and not very willing. She had never had to make beds before. She didn’t see any need of it.
“Why can’t you leave the blankets till you go to bed, and then just pull them up?” she said, pouting.
“Because you can’t, that’s why. And you’d better try, or you’ll never get a chance to go to the country.”
“What do you mean? Who goes to the country?”
Clematis came round the bed and took Jane by the arm.
“Why, most of the children who do well, or try hard to do well, go to the country for two weeks in the summer.”
“To the country where the flowers grow, and where there is grass all around?”
“Sure, and where they give you milk and apple pie. Oh, apple pie even for breakfast, and doughnuts between meals. I had doughnuts every day.”
“Crickety!” said Clematis.
“You’d better not let Miss Rose hear you say that, and you needn’t worry. You won’t go to anycountry, when you can’t even make beds.”
Clematis gave Jane a frightened look, and started to work the best she knew how.
But the best Clematis knew how was very poor work, and by the time the bell rang for school, one bed still had to be done.
“Let it alone,” said Jane. “I can make it up faster myself.”
Her hands and feet moved fast enough to surprise little Clematis, who followed her friend down to the school room, wondering how long it would take her to learn to make beds.
CHAPTER VIIWHAT CLEMATIS FOUND
School began with music, and Miss Rose went to the piano. The minute she began to play, Clematis stood up, and stared at her.
“Sit down. Don’t stand up now.” Jane pulled her sleeve.
But Clematis paid no attention. She kept her eyes on the piano, and seemed to hear nothing else.
The song was of Spring; of birds, and brooks, and flowers. Clematis listened to every word, and when it was finished she sat down with a sigh.
After the singing, they had a class in reading.
Clematis stared at the words on the blackboard, but could not tell any of them.
“Have you learned any of your letters?” asked Miss Rose.
“No’m,” said Clematis.
The other children giggled, for Clematis was as large as Jane. Jane was eight, and could read very well.
“Tomorrow you must go into the special class, and you must work hard, and catch up as fast as you can.”
“Yes’m.”
Clematis was angry. She didn’t like to be laughed at.
At recess, all the children ranout into the yard to play. It was a large yard, with a high wooden fence around it.
Glad to be free, Jane ran off to find some chums, and left Clematis to play by herself.
So Clematis wandered round by the fence till she came to a sunny spot, near the big maple tree with the red buds.
Here she picked up a dead twig and sat down, turning over the dried leaves with the twig, and throwing them in the air.
As she picked up the leaves, she saw some blades of grass beneath them.
Then she picked up more leaves, and found many blades of grass growing beneath their warm shelter.
Clematis got up and walked near the fence, where the leaves were thicker. There she poked them away, and found longer blades of grass, and new leaves, green and shiny.
“Oh,” she said to herself, “I hope I can come out here every day.”
Then she stopped. She pushed away some more leaves. She looked around at the other children.
None of them were looking at her.
She stooped, and took something from under the pile of leaves.
Again she looked about, but nobody was paying attention to her. All the children were playing games.
Then a sound made her look up. It was the bell. Recess was over, and all the children were going in.
Clematis put her hand into her apron pocket quickly, and followed the other children back to school.
“How has the new girl done today?” asked Mrs. Snow, just before they sat down to dinner.
“She seems to feel more at home,” replied Miss Rose. “She doesn’t know her letters yet. I guess she has grown up all by herself.”
“That is too bad. I will give her a test this afternoon, about three. If she would like to play with her kitten in the playroom for anhour, after dinner, she may do so.”
“Oh, I am sure she would be glad to see her kitten. She is a queer child. At recess she stole away all by herself, to play by the fence.”
The children were coming in now, and Mrs. Snow nodded to Miss Rose, as she went to her chair.
Little Sally had been just behind Miss Rose as she said the last words to Mrs. Snow. She heard part of the words she said, and began to whisper to her neighbor.
“She said somebody stole something. It must be that new girl. See how queer she looks.”
Then of course the neighbor had to whisper to the girl next to her.
“Do you know what it was the new girl stole? See how funny she looks. She’d better not steal anything of mine.”
In a minute Clematis knew they were talking about her. She didn’t know what it was, but she knew it was unkind.
They were looking at her, and talking to each other. Her face turned red. She could not eat. One hand went deep into her apron pocket.
Miss Rose quickly saw that something was wrong. She knew that little girls often made fun of the strangers, and it vexed her.
“Any little girl who is notpolite,” she said, “may leave the table at once.”
The girls stopped talking, but they poked each other with their feet under the table. They were sure Clematis had stolen something, for she looked just as if she had.
“Come, Clematis, eat your dinner now.”
“Yes’m,” said Clematis. But it was hard to swallow the bread.
She drank the soup, and left most of the bread by her bowl.
As soon as the bell rang, Miss Rose beckoned to her.
“Would you like to take Deborah to the playroom for a while, and play with her there?”
Clematis looked very much surprised.She had expected some new trouble.
“Oh, yes’m,” she gasped, and started down to the kitchen, glad to get away from the other girls, who had been watching.
Then Miss Rose beckoned to Jane.
“Jane, what were the girls saying about Clematis at the table?”
Jane hung her head. She did not like to repeat such awful things about Clematis, for she really liked her, though it was hard to teach her to work.
“Tell me, Jane. Miss Rose wants to know.”
“The girls were saying she stole something.”
“Stole something? Why, what did she steal, Jane?”
“I don’t know. I just heard them saying she had stolen something. She looked just as if she had.”
“Very well. Thank you, Jane.”
Jane went down to the school room, where all the girls were eager to know what Clematis had stolen. But Jane could tell them nothing.
“She just asked me what you said,” Jane declared.
“That’s just like Jane,” cried Sally. “She knows all the time, only she won’t tell.”
While they were talking, Clematis was finding a cosy corner in the playroom, and smoothing outevery hair on Deborah’s smooth back.
Deborah seemed very happy, and purred all the time.
“I don’t care if they do say mean things, and make noses at me. You won’t ever, will you, Debby?”
“Purr, purr, purr,” said Deborah. No indeed, she never would.
Time went fast, and it was three o’clock before Clematis had got Deborah settled down for sleep in a little bed she made for her beneath the window.
“Take her downstairs now, Clematis,” said Miss Rose, coming in. “Then come up to Mrs. Snow’s room. We want to ask you some questions.”
Again Clematis turned red. She went slowly downstairs, with Deborah under one arm. The other hand deep in her apron pocket.
“She surely looks as if something were wrong,” thought Miss Rose, as Clematis disappeared.
Clematis looked very unhappy when she went to Mrs. Snow’s room.
“Come in, little girl,” said Mrs. Snow, kindly. “There are some things I want to ask you about.”
“Yes’m,” replied Clematis, her lips quivering.
“First, I want to know what all this talk is about. Some of the girls were saying that youtook something which did not belong to you. Can that be true?”
Clematis hung her head. The tears came into her eyes.
“Don’t cry, Clematis,” said Miss Rose. “Just tell Mrs. Snow what it is, and perhaps we can make it all right again.”
“What was it, little girl?” asked Mrs. Snow, as she drew her nearer.
“It was mine, I found it first,” sobbed Clematis.
“Yes, but you must remember that if we find a thing, that does not make it ours. We must find the true owner, and give it back. That is the only honest thing to do.”
“What was it you found?” asked Miss Rose.
“I don’t kn-ow.”
“Where did you find it?”
“Do-wn by the fe-ence.”
“Where is it now, Clematis?” Mrs. Snow spoke kindly, as she wiped the child’s face with her handkerchief.
“It’s in my pocket,” answered Clematis.
She drew out her closed hand, held it before the two ladies, and slowly opened it.
Within lay a limp, withered dandelion blossom.
CHAPTER VIIIA VISITOR
Mrs. Snow still tells the story of how Clematis stole the first dandelion of the springtime, out under the leaves.
People laugh when they hear the story. You see, it all came about because the children told tales on each other, and it was a good joke on them.
But as Clematis stood there, before Mrs. Snow and Miss Rose, she didn’t see the joke at all. She cried, and hid her face in her arms.
“Come here, dear,” said Mrs. Snow. “It is all right, and youshall have every dandelion you find in the yard.”
“Wasn’t it stealing?” sobbed Clematis.
“No, it was all right, if you found it first.”
“And can I have all I find first?”
“Yes, indeed you can.”
Clematis lifted her head, and wiped the tears from her eyes.
“Oh,” she said, and seemed happy once more. She smoothed the limp little flower in her hot hand.
“And now,” said Mrs. Snow, “I wonder if you can tell us some more about yourself.”
“Yes’m, I’ll tell you all you ask, and I won’t tell any lies.”
“I’m sure you won’t. Perhaps you can remember, now, where you lived before you came here.”
Clematis shook her head. “I told Miss Rose every single thing,” she said, “except—”
“Except what?”
“Except that I ran away.”
Clematis hung her head again.
“Why did you run away?”
“Well, wouldn’t you run away, if you had to stay in a yard all day that was nothing but bricks?”
Mrs. Snow smiled. “Perhaps I would,” she replied.
“Didn’t you ever go out at all?” asked Miss Rose, who had been listening.
“Just sometimes, to go over to the store. Just across the street and back, and that was all bricks, too.”
Clematis held out her hand
Clematis held out her hand
“Do you think you could find your way home again, if Miss Rose went with you?”
Clematis shook her head. “Oh, no. It was a long, long way. I was most dead from walking.”
Mrs. Snow thought a moment. Then she said, “Miss Rose tells me that you have not learned to read. Is that true?”
“Yes’m, I never learned to do anything except count the change I got. But I can learn to read, and do numbers, too.”
Clematis spoke without sobbing now. She was thinking of the country, where girls went who did well.
“Do you think you could take her in a class by herself for a short time?” Mrs. Snow asked, turning to Miss Rose.
Miss Rose was about to answer, when one of the older girls came to the door.
“What is it, Ruth?”
“Please, Mrs. Snow, a man wants to see you.”
“What is his name?”
“His name is Smith. He wants to see you about a little girl.”
As she said this, Miss Rose looked up quickly.
Clematis also looked up. Her face turned red, and she put a finger in her mouth.
“Tell him to come in here.”
In another minute a small, thin man walked in.
He was poorly dressed, and looked as if he had been ill.
“Did you wish to see me about one of the children?” asked Mrs. Snow.
“Yes, marm, about this little girl right here.”
The man turned and smiled at Clematis, who was standing close by Miss Rose.
“Hello, Clematis, I thought I should find you somewhere.”
Clematis smiled too, but she did not speak.
“Oh,” said Mrs. Snow, “are you the one who took care of this little girl?”
“Yes, marm. I’ve had herever since she was a little baby.”
Mrs. Snow thought a minute.
“I suppose you want to take her home with you.”
“I don’t know about that. I have no home to keep a child in, and do right by her. You see, my wife is sick most of the time.”
“Don’t you know any of her folks who could care for her?”
“No, marm. Her mother came to our house when Clematis was a tiny baby. She said the father was dead. Then she died too, and we could never find out who she was.”
“Do you know her last name?” asked Miss Rose.
“No, miss. We never knewher last name. She said it was Jones, but we never believed that was the truth. This little girl we just called Clematis.”
“Didn’t she have anything to help you find out who she was?” asked Mrs. Snow in surprise.
“Not a single thing, except this picture.”
The man took out a small photograph.
It showed three girls standing together in front of a brick building.
“That is her mother on the left, marm, but I don’t see how the picture helps very much.”
“That is true. Still, the picture is better than nothing.”
“That is just what we thought,marm,” Mr. Smith replied. “We kept her along, hoping we should find some one to claim her, but no one came. She is too big for us to care for now.”
“Then you are ready to give her up?”
“Yes, marm, if you will care for her. She is very restless, and always wanting to run off.”
Mrs. Snow turned to Clematis.
“Do you think you would rather stay here, than go back with Mr. Smith?”
“Yes’m,” said Clematis, quickly. She had been thinking of the visits to the country. If she went back to the yard, all made of bricks, how would she ever see the grass and flowers?
“Very well, Mr. Smith. I think you have done a good deal to keep her as long as you have. She was well fed, even if she didn’t learn much.”
“Thank you, marm.”
Then Miss Rose took Clematis out of the office, while Mrs. Snow talked with Mr. Smith.
All the afternoon Clematis wondered what they were going to do with her.
After supper Miss Rose called to her, as the children were going to the playroom.
“Clematis,” she said, “do you think that if you stayed here you could work real hard, and learn to do as the other children do?”
“Yes’m.”
“Very well. Mrs. Snow finds that we can keep you here. I will try to teach you myself, so you can catch up with the other children.”
“Yes’m,” said Clematis.
That is all she said, but she was so glad, that she could not sleep for a long time after she went to bed.
She lay awake thinking, and thinking, of the things she would learn to do, so she might go at last to the country, the land of flowers, and grass, and birds; the land where white clouds floated always in a blue, blue sky.