Come, put away all the books and work, and
listen to my preaching."
Miss Rachel sat on a fallen tree, leaning against some young birches.
"Phil was asking me, yesterday," said she, "what becomes of all the poor
sick children in the city, and he seemed to think he ought in some way
to help them; so I promised to think about what he had been
considering, and a little plan came into my head in which I thought you
could help us, Graham."
Graham looked up with a pleased face, and nodded.
"It is just this. In the city hospitals are many sick children who have
to stay in bed almost all the time. Now Phil and I want to do the little
that we can for them, and it seems to me it would be nice to send fresh
flowers and fruit--all that we can spare from our gardens--once or twice
a week to some of these sick city children. What do you think, boys?"
"It would be lovely, Miss Schuyler," said Phil, "only I do not see how
_we_ could help; it would all come from you."
"Not all, dear child. I mean to give you both a share of the work--you
in your way, and Graham in his. Are you interested? Shall I go on and
tell you?"
"Yes, indeed," both exclaimed.
"I propose that we set aside a certain part of our flower-garden and our
fruit-trees, you and I, Graham (for I know you have a garden of your
own), which we will call our 'hospital fruits and flowers,' and Phil is
to assist in making up boquets, hulling berries, and packing to send
away; besides that, he is to make some little pictures, just little bits
of sketches of anything that he fancies--a spray of buds, a single
pansy, Joe's old hat and good-natured face beneath, a fish, or a bit of
vine-covered fence--and we will sell them for him, and the money shall
help pay the express charges upon our gifts to the sick children, so
that Phil will really be doing more than any of us.
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