, you lovely lilacs, growing up so high."

"Sing to me," commanded the lame girl imperiously.

"Sing? I can't sing! All I can do is whistle."

"But you were singing just now."

"I was humming."

"Don't quibble!" A faint smile smoothed away the hard lines about the
young mouth. "Please sing that little tune for me. I have heard you so
often in the garden and that seems quite a favorite of yours, but I can
never make out the words."

"That's 'cause the words ain't usu'ly alike."

"What?"

"Why, Allee and me have always fitted talking words into our song music
and--"

"I don't understand, I am afraid."

"Why, we just sing things instead of talking them like other folks
would. They don't rhyme, but they fit into tunes which we like, and our
Gleaners' motto song is our favorite, so that's the one we usu'ly hum,
and that's how you hear it so much."

"Then sing the motto song. The tune is very pretty."

"Yes, it is pretty, but the reason we like it so well is 'cause it
sounds glad. We never can sing it when we're cross or bad. It's made
just for sunshine."

Softly she began to chant the words:

"'In a world where sorrow
Ever will be known
Where are found the needy
And the sad and lone.'"

Peace was right in saying that she could not sing, and yet her happy
voice, warbling out those joyous words, made very sweet music that
bright May morning. The lines of weariness gradually left the invalid's
face, a feeling of rest stole over her, and with a tired little sigh,
she closed her eyes.

"'When the days are gloomy,
Sing some happy song,
Meet the world's repining
With a courage strong;

"'Go with faith undaunted
Thro' the ills of life,
Scatter smiles and sunshine
O'er its toil and strife,'"

piped Peace, staring at the waving plumes of lavender above her head.

"'Sca-atter sunshine all along your wa-ay,
Cheer and bless and bri-ighten--'"

The song ceased in the midst of the chorus.

The big blue eyes flashed open and the lame girl demanded in surprise.
"Why did you stop?"

"Oh," breathed Peace, a look of great relief passing over her face, "I
thought sure you'd gone to sleep and I wouldn't get my lilacs after
all."

"You little goosie! I don't go to sleep that easily. Sing the chorus
again for me, and then Hicks shall cut all the flowers you can carry."

"He better begin now, then, 'cause the chorus ain't long and it sounds
'si