Daily globe., 1879-05-18
Amy pay the stone-masons twenty dol
lars for her cellar. On Monday the car

Amy pay the stone-masons twenty dol
ars for her cellar. On Monday the car
penters and GLACIERS came.
When all was done, there was little
glass room, with little glass roof, open
ing from Auut Sophy's parlor, the great
er part OF the brick floor carpeted with |
several inches of earth, through which
ran little hot-water pipes from an arrange
ment that had been added to the fur
mace.
II haven't one cent left" said Amy, as
she surveyed the completed work. s'Aunty,
twas an awful risk!
sYou must work the harder to make
sure, then," said aunty
Even Sam, who had been so loud in
his disapproval first, had to confess that
the little conservatory was thing of |
beauty when he and Decatur were admit |
ted to it's sacred precincts
'You sce," said Amy, "I get all the sun |
there is; and it doesen't cost Aunty a bit |
more for coal, because the hot water
whose steam feeds the pipes is held
against the fre-pot Of the furnace and |
kept hot by the heat that is doing moth
ing else."
"But it took all the money you had,'
said Sam. ssI'd rather have had a veloci-
pede.'' i
maybe you won't think SO always
said Amy.
Certainly it was pretty sight, all
that store of green and blossoming things.
Amy had taken everything given her,
given her love and care to everything,
rested these things half the year, pushed
those things forward, given some sun,
some shadow.
When little bit of child, she had
been found, one cold night, with a deli
cate tropical plant carefully basketed and
taken to bed with her that it should not
freeze; and with all her efforts, the plants
had prospered and doubled
It was at about this time that modest
advertisement appeared in the daily pa
per-for it was a large country town, al
though Amy's own section Of it was a
small one: "Cut flowers, crosses, wreaths,
bouquets, for sale by Amy Smith, And
day by day the orders began to come In,
till at last there was hardly single day
without an order Of some sort-a box of
flowers for somebody's party, a bouquet, or
handful of orange blossoms for some
bride, wreath for some funeral, dozen
boutonnieres for the managers of a ball,
or fair, or dinner, or for the s'girl- -gradu-
| ates" of some school.
Sometimes it was all that Amy could
do to keep up her lessons and her school
and fill her orders. OF course her prices
were low, which explained much Of her
custom, and she might often enough be
seen trudging along with parcel Of flow
ers to some sick person, or to some poor
mother who had lost her baby, and had
no money to buy flowers to adorn its long
sleep.
At New Years Amy looked over her
affairs and she found she had cleared,
above her expenses, Just one hundred dol
lars.
s'Sixtiesr' said Sam again. ''You don't
say SO! I suppose you are going to send
to me the Polytechnic"
''Indeed, she'll do no such thing!' said
Aunt Sophy.
II shouldn't go to the Polytechnic if
she would!'' said Sam. Sand you needn't
be in hurry, Miss Amy, to refuse before
you're asked I'm going into business
with Decatur the minute I'm through
school. He's learned bookkeeping, and
I'm real hand at a bargain; and I'll
wager we'll soon have hundred dollars
to every one of Amy's. So! But think
you might buy boat.'
"'Twould Z" be lovely, moonlight nights
on the river,' said Amy. '"But no,
can't afford it,
The next year, Amy had tripled hel
receipts. She had left school, and now
gave all her time to her flowers. She
had boy on the railway to sell her rose
buds, and even sent her baskets into
Boston.
The bay-window was full Of those that
would flourish there, as indeed, almos,
every other window was.
II declare, auntie," said Amy, one day
1--WE shall have to pull down our barns and
build bigger!'
$50 we shall ~
''But not yet'' And then the bank
book came out of it's hiding place, anG
the two heads bent over in long confab
ulation.
Sam had left school by this; and hi
also was in store-still the same Sam
and rather apt to think that the owner Of
the store kept it for his, Sans benefit.
| Decatur had gone up some rounds or
| his ladder; but his salary was yet only
three hundred year, with no prospect o.
more 1t used to make him melancholy
enough, because he was eager and am
bilious.
AS tor Amy's conservatory, he was a
!, home so little, and saw so little Of wha
went on, that he hardly regarded it a.
more than play, and doubted if she made
} quite enough money by it, on the whole
to dress her, she was sometimes SO shabby
One evening-it was Decatur's twenty
, first birthday, as it happened-Sam ant
Decatur came in together, and both 0
5 them looked very downcast. ''Why
| what's the matter, Sam?" said Aun
;. Sophy, taking Sans chin on the tips O
7 her finger, so as to look into his mischiev
, Gus eyes.
'Don't!'' said Sam, pcevishly. Don't!
"Why; SAM
e II don't feel like it, I tell you! Yo,
f wouldn't either, if you'd ostsuch chanc
as Decatur and I've lost!''
'sWhat chance?' asked Aunt Sophy am
e Amy together.
: "Nothing, nothing at ALL" said Deca
tur. sWhat's the use, Sam?" he added il
e an undertone. eth only make ther
It feel bad too. Where's the checkers, Amy?
;. But Amy's quick ears were on the alert
n eff it makes you feel badly, we want t
l. know about it," she said. ''It's you
e birthday, Decatur, you know, and yo
e mustn't be stingy. You mustn't kee