She felt herself an outcast and an alien to our busy little circle , where each member counted every day , with miserly delight , his slowly increasing hoard of small cash . `` I 'm just going to pray to God to send me some money , '' she announced desperately at last . `` I do n't believe that will do any good , '' said Dan . `` He gives lots of things , but he does n't give money , because people can earn that for themselves . '' `` I ca n't , '' said Sara , with passionate defiance . `` I think He ought to take that into account . '' `` Do n't worry , dear , '' said Cecily , who always poured balm . `` If you ca n't collect any money everybody will know it is n't your fault . '' `` I wo n't ever feel like reading a single book in the library if I ca n't give something to it , '' mourned Sara . Dan and the girls and I were sitting in a row on Aunt Olivia 's garden fence , watching Felix weed . Felix worked well , although he did not like weeding -- `` fat boys never do , '' Felicity informed him . Felix pretended not to hear her , but I knew he did , because his ears grew red . Felix 's face never blushed , but his ears always gave him away . As for Felicity , she did not say things like that out of malice prepense . It never occurred to her that Felix did not like to be called fat . `` I always feel so sorry for the poor weeds , '' said the Story Girl dreamily . `` It must be very hard to be rooted up . '' `` They should n't grow in the wrong place , '' said Felicity mercilessly . `` When weeds go to heaven I suppose they will be flowers , '' continued the Story Girl . `` You do think such queer things , '' said Felicity .
`` A rich man in Toronto has a floral clock XXXXX his garden , '' I said .
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