A few yellow marigolds made a forlorn attempt to look bright, and one tall sunflower raised its great head above all the rest; proclaiming the quality of the little kingdom where it reigned.

The poor cripple moved down a few steps from the house door, and began grubbing with her hands around the roots of a bunch of balsams.
Daisy looked a minute or two, very still, and then bade the boy hold her pony; while without troubling herself about his mystification she got out of the chaise, and basket in hand, opened the wicket and softly went up the path.

The neat little shoes and spotless white dress were close beside the poor creature grubbing there in the ground before she knew it, and there they stood still; Daisy was a good deal at a loss how to speak.

She was not immediately perceived; the head of the cripple had a three-cornered handkerchief thrown over it to defend it from the sun and she was earnestly grubbing at the roots of her balsam; the earth-stained fingers and the old brown stuff dress, which was of course dragged along in the dirt too, made a sad contrast with the spotless freshness of the little motionless figure that was at her side, almost touching her.
Daisy concluded to wait till she should be seen, and then speak, though how to speak she did not very well know and she rather dreaded the moment.
It came, when in throwing her weeds aside a glance of the cripple saw, instead of stones and grass, two very neat and black and well shaped little shoes planted there almost within reach of her hand.

She drew herself back from the balsam and looked sideways up, to see what the shoes belonged to.