At this "good-by" meeting, as they called it, Miss Walsh had a few words to say both to the stay-at-homes and to those who were going away. To the first she said,

"Dear girls, we leave the band in your hands knowing you will do all you can for its best interests. Mrs. Cresswell has kindly invited you to hold your meetings at her house. I have appointed four of the older girls to lead these meetings--Mary Cresswell and Hannah Morton in July, Ella Thomas and Mamie Das...o...b..in August. I have given each of these leaders some missionary reading in case you run short, but I dare say you will find plenty of things yourselves. I also intend to write you a little letter for each meeting, and should be glad to have any or all of you write to me."

To the others she said,

"Now when you are away having a good time, don't forget missions. Keep up your interest and come home ready to work more earnestly and faithfully than ever. There are many ways of keeping the subject fresh in your minds and of helping along with the work even in vacation times.

But you know this as well as I do, and I should like the suggestions as to how to do it to come from you."

After a pause Edith said, "We all know the subjects for the next four meetings, and we might study and read just as we should do at home."

"That is a good suggestion," said Miss Walsh, "and one I hope you will all adopt; for if you don't, I'm afraid the go-aways will be far behind the stay-at-homes."

"We might remember what we hear about missions and tell it when we come back," said one of the others.

"That would be very instructive and pleasant," said their leader; "and you may have plenty of opportunity to hear, as in these days very interesting missionary meetings are often held at summer resorts.

Besides you may meet individuals who can give you much information."

"We might do as you are going to do and write letters to the band at home," said another.

"I know the band at home would like that very much, but you must remember that they must be letters suited to a missionary meeting."

"We might join with others in holding meetings," suggested Rosa Stevenson. "In the cottage where I was last summer there were four other girls and two boys who belonged to mission-bands, and we had a meeting every Sunday."

"Good!" cried Miss Walsh.

"If we meet any children who don't know about missions, we might tell them about our band and what we do," said Daisy Roberts timidly.

"The very thing, Daisy!" exclaimed Miss Walsh, patting the tiny girl on the shoulder. "And you think that might start them up to become mission workers, do you?"

"Yes, ma'am," replied Daisy.

"I think," said Marty, after various other suggestions had been made, and she wondered that no one had thought of this, "I think we all should take our missionary boxes and banks and barrels and jugs along with us, and put money in regularly as we do at home."

"That is _very_ important," said Miss Walsh, "because if we neglect to lay by our contributions at the right time, trusting to make up the amount when we return home, we may find ourselves in a tight place and our treasury will suffer. And now, dear missionary workers, wherever you may be, at home or abroad, don't forget to pray every day for the success of this work. Remember what we are working for is the advancement of the kingdom of our blessed Lord and Saviour."

And then before the closing prayer they all stood up and sang,

"The whole wide world for Jesus."

This meeting filled Marty with the greatest enthusiasm and she felt as though she could do anything for missions. _She_ would not forget the subject for a single day, she was sure.

"Oh Miss Agnes," she said, "I sha'n't forget missions. I'll study the subjects every week and learn lots of missionary verses. I'll save all the money I can; and I'll tell _somebody_, if it's only Evaline, all I know about missionary work. I'll tell her the first thing when I get there. To be sure she can't have a band all by herself, but it may do good somehow."

CHAPTER XIII.

OFF TO THE MOUNTAINS.

"Here's your train!" said Mr. Ashford, hurrying into the waiting-room where he had left his wife and children while he purchased their tickets. "I'll carry Freddie. Come, Marty."

While they were waiting their turn to pa.s.s through the gate Marty and her mother were jostled by the crowd against two small, ragged, dirty boys, who had crept by the officers and were looking through the railings at the arriving and departing trains.

"Lots of these folks are goin' to the country, where 'ta'n't so hot and stuffy as 'tis here," said the larger boy. "Was you ever in the country, Jimmy?"

"Naw," replied the other, a thin, pale little chap about seven, leaning wearily against an iron post. "Never seed no country, but I _wants_ to."

Marty and her mother, who heard what was said and saw the wistful look on the small boy's face, pressed each other's hands and exchanged a sorrowful glance. Then they were obliged to move on; but after going through the gate Marty pulled her hand out of her mother's and, running back, took a couple of cakes from a paper bag she carried and pa.s.sed them through the fence to the boys. How their faces brightened at this little act of kindness!

"Marty, Marty!" called her father, who had not seen what she did and was afraid she would get lost in the crowd, "where are you? Hurry up, child!"

Then, when he had made them comfortable in the car and was about bidding them good-by, he said,

"Now, Marty, when you change cars stick closely to your mother and don't be running after strangers, as you did a moment ago."

"Why, papa," Marty protested earnestly, "they weren't strangers; at least I know that littlest boy with the awfully torn hat. He is Jimmy--"

"Well, well, I can't stop now to hear who he is, but I didn't know he was an acquaintance of yours. However, don't run after anybody, or you will get lost some of these days. Good-by, good-by. Be good children, both of you."

"Who was that boy, Marty?" asked Mrs. Ashford presently.

"He's Jimmy Torrence, and he lives in Jennie's house. Don't you remember I told you that one day, when we were all in Mrs. Scott's room singing to Jennie, a little boy came and leaned against the door-post and listened? Mrs. Scott told him to come in and took him on her lap. She gave him a cup of milk, and after he went away she said he had been sick with a fever and his folks were very poor. There's a good many of them, and they live in the third-story back-room."

"Oh, yes, I remember. So that is the boy. Poor little fellow! He looks as if he needed some country air."

"_Doesn't_ he!" said Marty. "O mamma, don't you think that society Mrs.

Watson belongs to would send him to the country for a week? That would be better than nothing."

"I fear they cannot, for Mrs. Watson told me the other day that there are a great many more children who ought to be sent than they have money to pay for."

"I _wish_ he could go," said Marty.

The boy's pale, wistful face haunted her for a while, but in the excitement of the journey it faded from her mind.

After the rush and roar of the train how perfectly still it seemed in the green valley where stood Trout Run Station! How peaceful the mountains! how pure and sweet the air!

"Mamma," said Marty almost in a whisper, "everything is exactly the same as ever."

"Mountains don't change much," replied Mrs. Ashford as she seated herself on one of the trunks and took Freddie on her lap.

"But I mean this funny little station and the tiny river and the old red tannery over there, and the quietness and everything! And oh, there's Hiram! He looks just as he did summer before last, and I believe he's got on the very same straw hat!"

Hiram, Farmer Stokes' hired man, who had come to meet the travellers, now appeared from the rear of the station, where he had been obliged to stay by his horses until the train had vanished in the distance. His sunburnt face wore a broad smile, and though he did not say much, Mrs.

Ashford and Marty knew that in his slow, quiet way he was very glad to see them. He seemed to be particularly struck by the fact that the children had grown so much, and when Freddie got off his mother's lap and ran across the platform, Hiram gazed at him in admiration, also seeming highly amused.

"I can't believe this tall girl's Marty, and as for the little boy--why, he was carried in arms the last time _I_ saw him!"