Nelly laid her rosy cheek close to her mother's, and wound her
small arms about her neck, and told her simple thoughts in a low, sweet
voice.
"You know it's strawberry time, mother, don't you?"
"Yes, darling."
"Well, I was thinking, if you would let me, I could pick a big basket
full, they are so thick over in our meadow; and maybe Mrs. Preston would
buy them of me, for she gives Mr. Jones a heap of money every year for
them."
"And what does Nelly want of a heap of money?"
"Why, mother, little Frisk wants a brass collar,--don't you, Frisk?"
Frisk barked and played all sorts of antics to show his young mistress
he was very much in need of one. "Think how pretty it would be, mother,
round Frisk's glossy neck. Oh, say that I may--do, do, mother!"
Nelly's pleading proved irresistible, and her mother tied her little
sunbonnet under her chin, gave the "big basket" into her hands, and the
little girl trudged merrily off, with Frisk jumping and barking by her
side to see his young mistress so happy.
Shall I tell how the long summer afternoon wore away, dear little
reader, and how the big basket was filled to the tip-top and covered
with wild flowers and oak leaves? Shall I tell, or shall I leave you to
guess, my little bright eyes? You say, yes? Well, I will tell you about
her walk to Mrs.
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