"I would like to send Stonie to the gentleman who wrote that letter. Stonie is king, and ought to go," she said.
"Can you spare Stonie?" asked Jim, tenderly. "You will miss him very much, little one."
"I can have another all for my own, can't I?" said Ally, anxiously.
"Why, yes, pet, a dozen, if you want them," replied Jim; "but they won't be like Stonie. There is n't one just like him."
"I know that," said Ally. "There is n't one in all the hill just like him. But he is king; he ought to go, and he wants to go, too. He has told me so."
With a tender, lingering touch she laid the beloved crystal down on the paper where we had already placed some of the specimens to be sent to the Professor. It was, indeed, king of them all. Both ends of the crystal were perfectly formed. It was transparent and flawless throughout. Two thirds of its length were vivid green; the other third rose-pink. At the green summit was a layer of solid opaque white, looking like a cap, though only a line wide. In no other specimen did we see any trace of such a formation of white.
"That is Stonie's snow crown," said Ally, laying her finger on the white end of the crystal. "You see none of the rest have crowns."
She found it hard to make a choice. She tested every stone by laying it against her cheek.
