"Louie Ming's got a mite box!" said Rosella.
Drew laughed. "Do you suppose she'll save anything in it?"
"I don't believe she will," said Rosella.
Rosella and Drew carried their mite boxes into their mother's tent.
"We're going to cut apricots and peaches to help the heathen!" announced
Rosella.
Mother nodded.
"We'll have a whole lot of money in our mite boxes when we carry them
back," said Rosella.
"We'll see," said mother.
For two or three mornings Rosella and Drew rose early, and after breakfast
hurried to the cutting-sheds to work. But, after a while, Rosella and Drew
grew tired. It was more fun to run over the fields, and mother never said
Rosella and Drew must cut fruit, anyhow, though she looked sober.
"The heathen children won't know," said Rosella to herself. "Suppose the
heathen children were me, I wonder if they'd cut apricots every day to send
me Bibles and missionaries? I don't believe they would."
The first month melted away. When it was over, Rosella had two nickels in
her mite box, and Drew had three in his.
"The heathen children won't know," said Rosella.
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