She had seen the outside of such boxes in the show-cases in Phoenix, but never before had such a tempting display met her eyes as these delicious sweets in their trimmings of lace paper and tinfoil and ribbons, crowned by a pair of little gilt tongs, with which one might make dainty choice.
Betty's gift was not so sightly.

It looked like an old dried sponge, for it was only a ball of matted roots.

But she held it up with an exclamation of pleasure.

"Oh, it is one of those fern-balls we were talking about this morning! I've been wanting one all year.

You see," she explained to Mary, when she had finished thanking Doctor Bradford, "you hang it up in a window and keep it wet, and it turns into a perfect little hanging garden, so fine and green and feathery it's fit for fairy-land.