Saw the Poppy blooming fair;
Loved her for her scarlet satin,
Loved her for her fringed hair.

"Sent a message by the night-wind:
'Wilt thou wed me, lady gay?
For the heart of Larry Larkspur
Beats and burns for thee alway.'

"When the morning 'gan to brighten,
Eager glanced he o'er the bed.
Lo! the Poppy's leaves had fallen;
Bare and brown her ugly head.

"Sore amazed stood Larry Larkspur,
And his heart with grief was big.
'Woe is me! she was so lovely,
Who could guess she wore a wig?'"

Hildegarde was highly delighted with the verses, and clamored for more;
but at this moment some one was seen coming toward them through the
trees. The some one proved to be Martha, with her sleeves rolled up,
beaming mildly through her spectacles. She carried a tray, on which were
two glasses of creamy milk and a plate of freshly baked cookies. Such
cookies! crisp and thin, with what Martha called a "pale bake" on them,
and just precisely the right quantity of ginger.

"Miss Rose doesn't look over and above strong," she explained, as the
girls exclaimed with delight, "and 't would be a pity for her to eat
alone. The cookies is fresh, and maybe they're pretty good."

"Martha," said Hildegarde, as she nibbled a cooky, "you are a saint!
Where do you keep your aureole, for I am sure you have one?"

"There's a pair of 'em, Miss Hilda," replied Martha. "They build every
year in the big elm by the back door, and they do sing beautiful."

CHAPTER IV.

THE DOCTORS.

"My dears," said Miss Wealthy, as they sat down to dinner,--the bell
rang on the stroke of one, and the girls were both ready and waiting in
the parlor, which pleased the dear old lady very much,--"my dears, when
I made the little suggestions this morning as to how you should amuse
yourselves, I entirely forgot to mention Dr. Abernethy. I cannot imagine
how I should have forgotten it, but Martha assures me that I did. Dr.
Abernethy is entirely at your service in the mornings, but I generally
require him for an hour in the afternoon. I am sure Rose will be the
better for his treatment; and I trust you will both find him
satisfactory, though possibly he may seem to you a little slow, for he
is not so young as he once was."

"Dr.--Oh, Cousin Wealthy!" exclaimed Hildegarde, in dismay. "But we are
perfectly well! At least--of co