Ralph Henry Barbour

“ There's so much to be done!”
“But my examination!” I protested. “Cabbage! Cauliflower! Carrot! Corn Salad! Chicory!”
She only laughed.
For some time I leaned over the fence and watched them gloomily. Arthur displayed a knack with the hoe that no one would have suspected him of. I determined to purchase a hoe and practise with it in the seclusion of my room. Neither of them took any notice of me and after a while I left them haughtily. Departing, I discovered with satisfaction that several more rhubarb pies and much sauce had been nipped in the bud. ”

“ I leaned across the pickets to cast my eyes over the document she held. “Um, so it does. I—I must have forgotten that.”
“You must have,” she agreed gravely.
“But what does it matter? I have acknowledged my ignorance of gardening and of vegetables—that is, beyond chervil. I make no false pretenses, you see. But as the letter emphasizes the fact that I am apt and quick to learn, besides being sober and respectful and—and the other things you just read, it seems to me that you can't do better than to take me on trial.” ”

“ I replied emphatically. “I couldn't bear to stay here and meet daily the accusing looks of the corn and onions. How you have the heart to leave them I don't see. If you are, in a measure, betraying my trust, Joan, imagine what the vegetables must think of your defection! You are morally responsible for their welfare. You can't deny it. You are——”
“Arthur—” she began.
“Even Arthur,” I interrupted sternly, “can't take your place with them. At the best Arthur is only a foster-parent. Who, I ask you, is to eat that early corn?” ”

“ My examination in Rhubarb, Salsify, and Spinach has quite exhausted me.”
Joan sniffed. “You've been very slow with your lessons of late. Here it is the middle of June and you're not through yet.”
“But what I have learned I've learned thoroughly. It is all here.” I tapped my forehead. “Artichokes, Asparagus, Cucumber—er—Leek——”
“Especially artichoke! And even yet you can't tell radishes from turnips.”
“I can by the taste,” I defended. “When growing, and in the immature stage, they are confusingly similar in appearance and almost any one might mistake one for t'other. ”

“ Saunders and Arthur and the Williamses.”
“Good Lord! To think that I have slaved and toiled over that corn to tickle the palate of Arthur!”
“And, anyhow,” said Joan, “the corn won't be really fit to eat before the first of August, and we'll be back soon after that.”
“Much may happen to your garden in three weeks,” I said gloomily. “The onions may have rust, and one of those awful fungus diseases will probably attack the tomatoes. And I'm almost certain I saw a cutworm looking covetously at the cucumbers this morning. Of course I know what you thought. ”

“ They are quite different. An empty basket reposed between us, and at a little distance Arthur Junior swayed lazily in the warm breeze. I had named him Arthur Junior because he looked very much like the original Arthur. We had had a great deal of fun making Arthur Junior. Joan's father's wardrobe had supplied everything but the stuffing and the brilliant scarlet four-in-hand tie. The tie was a happy thought of mine, and I have always maintained that the fact that Joan's young corn was unmolested by crow's was entirely due to the tie. ”

“ Which, Mister—Hodge, are the beans?”
“Well, of course, beans,” I muttered, “are difficult. But let me see.” I viewed the neat rows of green sprouts and leaves attentively. “The beans,” I decided finally, “are those things with the arrow-shaped leaves.” ”

“ And next to the beans?”
“Beets,” I hazarded.
“Lettuce, silly!”
“But I haven't got to lettuce yet. That wasn't fair!”
“Then tell me which the beets are.”
“I—I don't see any. Besides, beets grow underground. If you'll let me come over there and pull up some of those things I'll tell you in a minute. And, anyway, I don't see that the ability to distinguish a beet from a—a broccoli is a necessary attribute of the skilled weeder. Every man to his trade, say I. I'm a weeder, not a horticultural detective. It doesn't make a particle of difference to me whether I'm weeding beets or cabbages. ”

“ As I understand it, weeding consists of chopping the soil up with a hoe. I'm sure I could do that as well as a younger—boy.”
“The sort of weeding I want performed is done with the hands and not with the hoe. Have you ever worked in a garden?” ”

“ I found that my heroine was becoming quite bright and contented. That's the worst of heroines. You have to watch them all the time. You simply can't trust them. Now a hero you can depend on to go right through the story as you start him. ”

“ Beets—beets——”
“I thin mine out to six inches apart.”
“Correct! Six inches is right. The soil should be deeply fertilized and well cultivated.”
“Admirable!” she applauded.
“It's really nothing,” I murmured modestly. “Ask me about anything as far as cabbage except broccoli. My book was singularly silent on the subject of broccoli. It informed me that the vegetable resembled the cauliflower, but was hardier, and as I haven't got as far as cauliflower yet——”
“But of course you are up on beans?” ”

“ She smiled quite kindly.
“You're making a great mistake,” I warned her. “I am positive that I have in me the making of a fine gardener. I have always been extremely fond of flowers and vegetables. I have a genuine passion for artichokes.” ”

“ It needs cultivation badly. And the—those other things over there are simply choked with weeds! You haven't the heart to leave them like that!”
“I shall have to, I fear. It must be nearly eleven, isn't it?”
I lied a half-hour, but accomplished nothing. She disappeared into the house. The garden seemed strangely dull and uninteresting. I felt sorry for the poor, neglected little lettuces and peas and other things whose names I didn't know. The sunlight, which had been radiantly bright, paled perceptibly, and the little easterly breeze suddenly grew chill and unsympathetic. ”

“ Saunders had rhubarb planted here? It is a very poor location for rhubarb, which demands a great deal of sun.” I examined her face anxiously. Evidently I had scored. I went on with added assurance: “Yes, a great deal of sun and moisture and—er—humus.”
She laughed. “What a lot you know!” she said. “Have you been studying?”
“A little,” I owned. “Mrs. Saunders loaned me a seed catalogue. I found it quite rich in information. Now, for instance, take beets—you see, I've only got as far as the B's—beets should be sown very early in the spring, in drills fifteen inches apart. ”

“ You'd only have to show me what you wanted done——”
“I'd be afraid you would pull up the vegetables with the weeds,” she replied. “Besides”—and a ghost of a smile flitted across her face—“I don't believe the wages would be large enough to tempt you.”
“But you don't know,” I said eagerly. “I—I'd work for very little—a mere pittance; only enough to keep soul and body together. ”

“ Spanish, Maize. Culture: Select a warm soil if possible, especially for the earlier varieties, which should not be planted before the tenth of May. Successive plantings should be made every fortnight until July. Plant in——'”
“What on earth are you talking about?” she asked.
“Corn. If you want to hear me on celery first, all right. For that matter,” I added plaintively, “we've skipped cabbage and cauliflower and cardoon and——”
“What's cardoon?” she asked. ”

“ I said finally. “He will probably be addicted to the use of liquor and go to sleep on the leeks and the—the cardoons. And he will probably pull up the beets in mistake for weeds. It is tempting Providence to employ any one without references.” ”