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Wells, Carolyn, 1862-1942

"Patty's Butterfly Days"


"And I'd like to do my share of the spoiling!" he continued,
looking at her laughing, dimpled face and wind-tossed curls.
"So you shall! Begin just as soon as you like and spoil me all you
can," said Patty, still in gay fooling, when she suddenly
remembered Daisy's prohibition of this sort of fun.
"Of course I don't mean all this," she said, suddenly speaking in
a matter-of-fact tone.
"But I do, and I shall hold you to it. You know I have your
blossom wreath; I've saved it as a souvenir of last night."
"That forlorn bit of drowned finery! Oh, Little Billee, I thought
you were poetical! No poet could keep such a tawdry old souvenir
as that!"
"It isn't tawdry. I dried it carefully, and picked the little
petals all out straight, and it's really lovely."
"Then if it's in such good shape, I wish you'd give it back to me
to wear. I was fond of that wreath."
"No, it's mine now. I claim right of salvage. But I'll give you
another in place of it,--if I may."
Patty didn't answer this, for Daisy, tired of being neglected,
leaned her head over between the two, and commenced chattering.
The two girls were well wrapped up in coats and veils Mona had
brought them, but they were both glad when they came in sight of
"Red Chimneys.


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