"I can't tie a bow to save myself," declared Alexia; "it all snarls up, and
it looks for all the world, when I get through, as if my dog had chewed it.
Oh, dear me! Yes, that basket is two dollars."
"I'll take it," said the little tot who had to stand on tiptoes to peer
over the table with its blooming beauty. "I want it for my mamma," and he
gave his smart little cane to the nursemaid to hold, while he opened his
purse.
"Well, it's a beauty, Rick," said Alexia, picking up the basket; "the
violets are so sweet," and she sniffed them two or three times as she
passed them over.
"Here's Rick Halliday," called Clem, at the other end of the table. "Now
I'm going to make him buy something of me. We must all make him, girls; his
father's given him oceans of money to spend, of course."
It was loud enough for Polly to hear, and she dropped the box of ribbon
under the table.
"No, no," she said decidedly, hurrying over, "Grandpapa said we were not to
ask a single person to buy. That's the rule, you know, Clem."
"We could make ever so much more," grumbled Clem; "it's for the poor
children, you know, Polly."
"Grandpapa said not," repeated Polly, her cheeks like a rose, and back she
flew again to her post.
"I shan't buy anything of you, Clem Forsythe," loudly declared small Rick
over to her, taking his little cane from the nursemaid's hand, "anyway.
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