Florence Marie Nightingale Griffith was, for lack of better phrase, a wild child. Despite her Mother's constant protest, she constantly acted below her standing with her improper actions - mostly her love of the forest. Her dresses were constantly dirty, her shoes rarely on her feet, and she was never on time. And worst of all, she befriended the lowly peasant boy down the road. What happens when her Mother decides she's had enough of Florence's actions? Will she manage to survive another day?