moist and flushed
and her hair was a tumbled heap of what was to him the rarest gold under
the sun. The wind was still, the leaves were heavy with the richness of
full growth, bees were busy about June's head and not another soul was
in sight.

"Good morning, little girl!" he called cheerily.

The hoe was arrested at the height of a vicious stroke and the little
girl whirled without a cry, but the blood from her pumping heart
crimsoned her face and made her eyes shine with gladness. Her eyes went
to her feet and her hands to her hair.

"You oughtn't to slip up an' s-startle a lady that-a-way," she said with
grave rebuke, and Hale looked humbled. "Now you just set there and wait
till I come back."

"No--no--I want you to stay just as you are."

"Honest?"

Hale gravely crossed heart and body and June gave out a happy little
laugh--for he had caught that gesture--a favourite one--from her. Then
suddenly:

"How long?" She was thinking of what Dave said, but the subtle twist in
her meaning passed Hale by. He raised his eyes to the sun and June shook
her head.

"You got to go home 'fore sundown."

She dropped her hoe and came over toward him.

"Whut you doin' with them--those weeds?"

"Going to plant 'em in our garden." Hale had got a theory from a
garden-book that the humble burdock, pig-weed and other lowly plants
were good for ornamental effect, and he wanted to experiment, but June
gave a shrill whoop and fell to scornful laughter. Then she snatched the
weeds from him and threw them over the fence.

"Why, June!"

"Not in MY garden. Them's stagger-weeds--they kill cows," and she went
off again.

"I reckon you better c-consult me 'bout weeds next time. I don't know
much 'bout flowers, but I've knowed all my life 'bout WEEDS." She laid
so much emphasis on the word that Hale wondered for the moment if her
words had a deeper meaning--but she went on:

"Ever' spring I have to watch the cows fer two weeks to keep 'em from
eatin'--those weeds." Her self-corrections were always made gravely now,
and Hale consciously ignored them except when he had something to tell
her that she ought to know. Everything, it seemed, she wanted to know.

"Do they really kill cows?"

June snapped her fingers: "Like that. But you just come on here,"
she added with pretty imperiousness. "I want to axe--ask you some
things--what's that?"

"Scarlet sage."

"Scarlet sage," repeated June. "An' that?"

"Nasturtium, and that's O