"I'll help Mr. Alder all the time," she said to herself. "I'll feed the pigs, and the hens, and I guess he'll be glad I'm here." CHAPTER XVI ONLY A FEW DAYS MORE Clematis did help Mr. Alder, and tried hard, in her way, to make herself useful. She helped Mrs. Alder too, for she went on errands to the village every time she was asked. Every day she went to the Post Office. She took home the letters and carried home bundles from the stores. Clematis loved this walk, because the road ran down by Knapp's saw mill, and by the river. Near the stocking mill, the river came right up to the road, and she could even see the little fish, in the clear water. Sometimes she stopped longer than she thought, and was late getting back, but Mrs. Alder did not scold her. "The less we expect of her, the less we shall be disappointed," she would say. On Sunday, they all went down to church to hear Mr. Sampson preach. He smiled at her in his kindly way, when she went out. "Let me see, I don't know your name, do I?" he asked, taking her hand. "It's Clematis." "Well, Clematis, I'm glad to see you. I hope you will come again." "That little girl looks just like another little girl I used to know," he said to Mr. Alder. "She is here for a week or two. Doctor Wyatt sent her up." Mr. Alder whispered to him a minute, before they went away. "How would you like to take a long walk this afternoon, Clematis?" said Mr. Alder, while she was eating her ice cream and cake. "Oh, yes, let's." Clematis was glad enough. She never liked Sundays very well. "Good, we can walk up Bean Hill, if you think you can go that far." [Illustration: She could see the little fish] "Oh, I can walk farther than that." So they started out, while Mrs. Alder lay down for a nap. They didn't go by the road, but crossed the river in a boat that Mr. Alder kept tied to the bank. Then they walked through the trees and meadows by the path. Clematis was full of joy. New birds sang here. New trees, and new flowers met her at each turn. After they had walked about a mile, they came to a little cabin, set among maple trees. "Who lives here?" asked Clematis. It looked like the cabins she had seen in her picture books. "No one lives here now. This is where they boil down their sap in the spring. They make maple syrup, and maple sugar." There were the big pans, turned upside down, and the pails that caught the sap. Her mouth watered as she thought of all the maple sugar they had made in that little cabin. She wanted to stay longer, but Mr. Alder started on. "We must get along, I want to see Mr. Brooks before we go home." "Who is Mr. Brooks?" "Mr. Brooks is a good man who lives over here on the side of Bean Hill. He lives all alone by himself." "Oh," replied Clematis, "is he the man who owns the white house with the vines, and has had so much sadness?" "Yes. How did you know about him?" "Mr. Ladd stopped near his house. He told me."