They divided the walk into sections, and set to work vigorously. In a few moments Marty remarked complacently, "The bottom of my basket is quite covered with weeds. But then," she added in a different tone, "I don't see where they came from. I hardly miss them out of the walk." A few moments more of quiet work, and she called out, "Evaline, are many of your weeds in _tight_?" "Awful tight," answered Evaline disconsolately. "They've got the longest roots of any weeds _I_ ever saw. 'T would take a week of rain to make this walk fit to weed." "Well," said Marty, "of course it isn't just as easy as taking a quarter for some clematis that was given to us in the first place, but as it is for missions I think we ought to be willing to do it, even if it is a little hard." "That's so," Evaline replied, brightening up. "And I'm very glad your mother thought of this," Marty went on, "for it would be dreadful disappointing not to have any flowers for the ladies when they come, and not to get any more missionary money." Again Evaline agreed with her, and the work went on. In about half an hour there was quite a large clean patch, and much encouraged by seeing the progress they were making, they worked more diligently than ever. Then Marty had a sentimental idea that it might help them along to sing a missionary hymn, but found upon trial that it was more of a hindrance than a help. "I can't sing when I'm all doubled up this way," she said, "and anyway when I find a very tough weed I have to stop singing and pull. Then I forget what comes next." "I guess it's better to work while you work and sing afterward," was Evaline's opinion. Here they heard somebody laughing, and looking up saw Mrs. Ashford, who had come out to see how they were getting on. "I think Evaline is about right," she said; "singing and weeding don't go together very well. But how nicely you have been doing! Why, you are nearly half through!" "Yes, ma'am," said Evaline, "and the other side of the circle a'n't half so bad as this was. We'll easy get it done to-morrow morning." "Yes; and, mamma," cried Marty, "we've got them out good. I don't believe there'll ever be another weed here!" "They'll be as bad as ever after a while," said Evaline, who knew them of old. Marty was pretty tired that evening and did not feel like running about as much as usual. "There now!" exclaimed Mrs. Stokes, looking at Marty as she sat on the porch steps after supper leaning back against her mother, "there now! you're all beat out. 'T was too hard work for you. I oughtn't to have let you do it." "Oh! indeed, Mrs. Stokes, I'm not so very tired," cried Marty, "and I was glad to do it."