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Crowley, Mary Catherine

"Apples, Ripe and Rosy, Sir"


Before long everybody began to notice how eager Joe was in his search.
"What are you going to do with all your posies?" queried Will,
twittingly.
"They must be for Frances," declared Elsie.
"Maybe he is going to give them to Aunt Anna Grey," ventured Teresa.
"Perhaps to mother," hazarded Ellen.
"Yes: some for mother," admitted Joe; "and the others for--don't you
wish you knew!" And Joe's eyes danced roguishly as he darted off to a
patch of violets.
"He has some project. What can it be?" soliloquized Ellen, looking
after him.
Joe, unconscious of her gaze, was bending over the little blue flowers,
and humming an air which the children had learned a few days before.
"That tune is so catchy I can't get it out of my mind," he remarked to
Will.
Suddenly Ellen started up. "I know!" she said to herself. Then for a
time she was silent, flitting to and fro with a smile upon her lips,
her thoughts as busy as her fingers. "Ha, Master Joe! I believe we'll
all try that plan!" she exclaimed at length, laughing at the idea of
the surprise in store for him. Presently she glanced toward Teresa and
Elsie, who were loitering under a tree, talking in a low tone.


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