FROM THE LAND OF THE SNOW-PEARLS [Illustration] FROM THE LAND OF THE SNOW-PEARLS TALES FROM PUGET SOUND By ELLA HIGGINSON. NEW YORK THE MACMILLAN COMPANY LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., LTD. 1902 Copyright, 1896, by THE CALVERT COMPANY Copyright, 1897, by THE MACMILLAN COMPANY TO RUSSELL CARDEN HIGGINSON Some of the stories in this book appeared originally in _McClure’s_, _Lippincott’s_, _Leslie’s Weekly_, _Short Stories_, _The Black Cat_ and _The New Peterson_. I am indebted to the publishers of those periodicals for the kind permission to reprint them. E. H. This book was first published under the title of “The Flower that Grew in the Sand.” To the present edition, two stories have been added. _The Publishers._ Puget Sound lies in its emerald setting like a great blue sapphire, which at sunset, draws to its breast all the marvelous and splendid coloring of the fire-opal. Around it, shining through their rose-colored mists like pearls upon the soft blue or green of the sky, are linked the great snow-mountains, so beautiful and so dear, that those who love this land with a proud and passionate love, have come to think of it, fondly and poetically, as “the land of the snow-pearls.” CONTENTS PAGE THE FLOWER THAT GREW IN THE SAND 1 ESTHER’S “FOURTH” 21 THE BLOW-OUT AT JENKINS’S GROCERY 31 THE TAKIN’ IN OF OLD MIS’ LANE 41 THE MANEUVERING OF MRS. SYBERT 67 A POINT OF KNUCKLING-DOWN 79 THE CUTTIN’-OUT OF BART WINN 141 ZARELDA 183 IN THE BITTER ROOT MOUNTAINS 207 PATIENCE APPLEBY’S CONFESSING-UP 217 THE MOTHER OF “PILLS” 243 MRS. RISLEY’S CHRISTMAS DINNER 263 THE FLOWER THAT GREW IN THE SAND THE FLOWER THAT GREW IN THE SAND Demaris opened the gate and walked up the narrow path. There was a low hedge of pink and purple candytuft on each side. Inside the hedges were little beds of homely flowers in the shapes of hearts, diamonds and Maltese crosses. Mrs. Eaton was stooping over a rosebush, but she arose when she heard the click of the gate. She stood looking at Demaris, with her arms hanging stiffly at her sides. “Oh,” she said, with a grim smile; “you, is it?”