you girls
there hoeing and raking and pulling up weeds reminds me of a scene from
the opera of 'The Juggler of Notre Dame,'--the monks in the cloister
working among their flowers."

Molly paused in her operation of the lawn mower.

"It is a peaceful occupation," she said. "It's the nicest thing that
ever happened to us, this garden, because it was such a surprise. I
never suspected it was anything but a desert until one day I looked down
and saw Mrs. O'Reilly digging up the earth around some little green
points sticking out of the ground, and then it only seemed a few days
before the points were daffodils and everything had burst into bloom at
once. This apple tree was like a bride's bouquet."

"That's stretching your imagination a bit," interrupted Judy, reclining
at full length on a steamer rug on the ground. "Think of the gigantic
bride who could carry an apple tree for a bouquet."

"Get up from there and go to work," cried Molly, poking her friend in
the side with her foot. "Here's company coming this afternoon, and you
at your ease on the ground!"

"I don't notice that Margaret W. is bestirring herself," answered Judy.

"A President never should work," answered Molly. "It's her office to
look on and direct."

Judy pulled herself lazily from the ground.

"I'll be official lemon squeezer, then," she said. "I will not weed; I
refuse to cut grass, or to pick up sticks with the Williamses. You look
like a pair of peasant fagot gatherers," she called to the two sisters
who were clearing away a small pile of brush gathered by the industrious
hands of Mrs. O'Reilly.

"And what do you think you are? A bloomin' aristocrat?" demanded Edith.

"If I am," answered Judy, "my noblesse has obleeged me to squeeze lemons
for the party. It's a lowly job, but I'd rather do it than pick up
sticks."

"Anything like work is lowly to you, Miss Judy," said Katherine.

Summer had really come on the heels of spring with such breathless haste
that before they knew it they were plunged into warm weather. And nobody
rejoiced more than Molly over the passing of the long cold winter. When
at last the sun's rays broke through the crust of the frost-bound earth
and wakened the sleeping things underneath, it had seemed to the young
girl that her cup of happiness was overflowing. Not even to Judy and
Nance could she explain how much she loved the spring. One day, seizing
a trowel from some tools on the porch, she rushed into the garden a