Mrs. James sent word to the storekeeper at the Corners, directing him to hire help and send them to Green Hill Farm to clean up the house thoroughly. Also to see that a man mowed the lawns and cleaned up the barns and yards.
Then came the work of selecting the things Natalie wished to keep, and packing them ready to ship to Green Hill. The other furnishings in the apartment would not be sold until after the girl was out. Mr. Marvin said there was no need to cause her any unnecessary heartache.
The second week in June, Mr. Marvin sent word to Mrs. James that the house was ready for occupancy whenever she wished to move out there. Not only was the old furniture placed in the respective rooms, but the pieces that had been shipped from the apartment in New York were also arranged for the time being. The onlythings to be moved were the trunks and the cases containing the dishes and bric-à-brac which Natalie would keep.
Mrs. James read the letter to Natalie at the breakfast table and said: “The sooner we can get away from here, dear, the better for all. Mr. Marvin can then save a whole month’s rent for you, as the owner agreed to cancel the lease when Mr. Marvin explained the circumstances. If we remain to the end of this month, it will take an extra week to dispose of what remains here, and that will necessitate another month’s rent if it goes over the first of July.”
“Oh, I’ll be only too glad to get away from the home where every room and object speaks of dear Daddy!” cried Natalie. “Green Hill is so lovely at this time of the year that I feel as if I could look forward there to meeting Daddy and mother again without feeling any grief at the parting now.”
“Then let us say we will start in a day or two!” exclaimed Mrs. James eagerly.
“But what about school, Jimmy? Examswill not come off until the third week, and I don’t want to miss any.”
“Natalie, maybe we can arrange some way with Miss Mason by which you can take yours without being in school,” said Mrs. James.
“I’ll see her to-morrow, Jimmy, and if she says I may do it that way, I’ll go with you at once.”
“If she can’t make such an exception in your case, Natalie, we may be able to arrange so you can commute to the city for the few last weeks of school.”
The next noon Natalie hurried home with the good news that the Principal had been interviewed and had granted Natalie permission to take her examinations all at one time during the next few days of school, as her average for the year had been so splendid. The fact that she maintained a high standard all year through in her classes showed that she would not fail now in her yearly examinations.
“Oh, but this is good news, dear!” exclaimed Mrs. James joyously.
“Yes, isn’t it? If it wasn’t for Miss Mason taking the time and interest in me that she does, the Principal would never have listened to my request. It seems rather wonderful to have a teacher who is a real friend, too!”
“We’re grateful, no matter through what channel the good came; but I, too, think Miss Mason a good friend to have,” remarked Mrs. James.
“She said something to me, as I left this noon, about your telling me of her Scout camp. She laughed and said I would be surprised and—perhaps—annoyed. If it was the latter feeling, I was to consider she owed me a debt that she would try to pay as soon as possible. It sounded so amusing, coming from her to me, who owes her all obligations for what she has done for me, that I am keen to hear what you have to explain.”
Mrs. James smiled. “I am sure you will be pleased, Natalie. Miss Mason rented a section of the woodland that runs along the river bank at Green Hill for a camp for her Girl ScoutPatrol she told us of. They all expect to go there on the first of July.”
“Oh, goody! Isn’t that just scrumptious!” cried Natalie delightedly.
“I thought you would like it, but Miss Mason was not so sure that you would welcome her Scouts. The girls are all good girls, but they have not had the money or social advantages that you and your friends have. I told Miss Mason that the sooner all such fol-de-rol was dispelled in a girl’s mind the better. And these eight sensible young girls will help dispel the nonsense.”
“That’s right, Jimmy! Since I find myself thrown on the mercy of the world, I begin to see how unfounded is one’s faith in money or position. One day it is yours and the next it is gone!”
“Rather precocious views for so young a maid, Natalie,” said Mrs. James, smiling indulgently at her protégée.
Natalie sighed. “Is it not true?”
“True, of course, but you have not proven it to be so yet. You speak from hearsay and frombook knowledge. You have not had to make the sorry experience your own yet.”
“Why, Jimmy! Don’t you call my losses the test?” said Natalie, offended that Mrs. James should consider her limited condition anything less than a calamity.
The lady laughed. “Child, you have a lovely home and land free and clear of debt. It is worth atleastten thousand dollars right now. With judicious handling it will be worth four times that sum in a few years. You have Rachel and me to live with you and love and cherish you—as well as protect you. You have Mr. Marvin to take all charge of your business interests, and last, but not least—you have four loyal young friends who stick to you whether you have money or not. This is far from being thrown on the cold mercy of the world!”
Natalie thought deeply over this but she said nothing.
“Well, let’s get busy packing, Jimmy! I want to get away this week, if we can.”
“Are you not going back for the afternoonsession of school?” asked Mrs. James, surprised.
“Didn’t I tell you I was free now? I do not have to return except for exams. The classes are only reviewing the last term’s work now, so I do not have to report for that.”
“Oh, how nice! Then we will get to work at once.”
By afternoon of Wednesday, all baggage was out of the apartment, and the three occupants were prepared to leave early in the morning. Mr. Marvin had been notified and he said the key for Green Hill house was at the general store. Mrs. Tompkins would give it to them. Mr. Tompkins had followed his wife’s advice and stocked up the kitchen and pantry with whatever groceries Rachel would need to begin with.
“Isn’t that thoughtful of the Tompkins, Natalie?” said Mrs. James gratefully.
“Yes, I feel that we will be good friends—the Tompkins and us.”
Natalie had informed her schoolmates that she was to go on the nine o’clock local in the morning,and so wished them all good-by that night.
“It isn’t really ‘good-by,’ Nat, because we will all see you again so soon,” giggled Norma.
Belle sent Norma a warning glance and explained hastily: “Yes, it is only a few weeks before we will be up on the farm with you.”
“Try to fix it, girls, so you can all join me on the farm as soon as school closes,” said Natalie.
“That will be fine!” declared a chorus of voices.
So repeated good-bys were said and Natalie wondered why the girls thought it all so funny! The next morning as Mrs. James and Natalie stood in line at Grand Central Station to buy their tickets, four laughing girls pounced upon Natalie, and as many girlish voices said: “Didn’t you suspect? How could you believe we would let you go away without sending you off in a royal manner?”
Natalie laughed joyously. “But it isn’t to the North Pole, girls! And it is only a few weeks before you will be there.”
“Never mind! If it is only for a few days, we would see that the railroad company was duly impressed with your importance because of your friends who escort you to the train,” laughed Janet.
Mrs. James had purchased the tickets by this time, and they all started to find Rachel, who was waiting with the baggage. Then they hunted up the particular gate that gave way to the platform of the train they wanted, and passed through in a grand procession.
Rachel was last to pass, and as she tried to force the unwieldy bags through without allowing for the narrow brass rails, she got them stuck. A porter sprang forward to assist her, but she scorned him.
“Whad foh yoh try t’ show offnow? Ef yoh had any sence in yoh haid, yoh’d seen I cud have used help befoh dis! Clar out, now, and don’ show yoh kinky monkey-face heah ag’in!”
As she puffed out the angry words, Rachel struggled with the baggage, and finally shot through with the release of the knobby portmanteauthat held her precious property. The gate-keeper laughed quietly at the discomfiture of the porter who was inordinately proud of his new uniform and brass-corded cap. To be termed a “monkey-face” by an old mammy was past endurance!
The incident caused a merry laugh with the group of girls, and Natalie said: “There, Rachel! I told you to let us carry one or two of your bags,—you were too laden for anything!”
“Da’s all right, Honey! I ain’t lettin’ yoh lug yohse’f to pieces fer me; but dat pickaninny what’s dressed up like a hand organ monkey makes his livin’ by fetchin’ an’ carryin’; so he oughta know his bis’nis, er someone’s got to teach him it.”
As Natalie reached the platform of the train, she stood still to bid her chums good-by again. Suddenly she remembered what had occurred the night before.
“Oh, is that why you laughed when I said it need not be a long good-by?”
“Surely! we had it all planned to come andsee you off, and give you consolation in some tangible form because you would be deprived of our gracious company for two weeks,” giggled Belle, holding out a ribbon-bowed box.
“What’s that for?” demanded Natalie, trying to act impatient because the girls spent their money on her. But her acting was very poorly done.
“And I thought you would need some farming implements at Green Hill, so I managed to secure these for you,” added Janet laughingly.
She held out a long package that defied guessing as to its contents, so Natalie took it and laughed merrily with the others.
“And I brought your favorite nourishment, Nat. One of mother’s ‘chocklate’ layercakes,” said Norma.
“Oh, my goodness! How shall I carry it without mashing the icing?” exclaimed Natalie, managing, however, to place the square box upon her arm where it was carefully balanced.
“And I, Nat,” said Frances, “feared you would lack fruit on the farm, and so I tried tostart you with a supply from the New York orchards.”
It takes little to make a merry heart laugh, and at each silly schoolgirl speech made with the gift Natalie laughed so heartily that it was contagious.
“All aboard!” called the conductor, consulting his timepiece and waving Mrs. James into the coach.
“Good-by! Good-by!” shouted five girls, and Natalie was bundled into the train and found herself watching the girls as the train receded from the station.
After she was seated and had tested the box of candies Belle had given her, Natalie saw Mrs. James deeply interested in a paper-covered book.
“What’s the name of it?” asked she, handing the candy-box across the aisle to Rachel.
“Looks like candy,” replied Rachel, thinking the girl was speaking to her.
Natalie laughed. “I meant the book, Rachie,” explained she.
Mrs. James looked up with a half absentminded manner.“What did you say about the book, dear?”
“I asked you what it was. Who wrote it?”
“Oh, it is the new book ‘Scouting for Girls,’ that Miss Mason gave me last night. It is certainly very interesting, Natalie.”
“Is that the Scout Girls’ Manual?” said Natalie, surprised at the thickness of it.
“Yes, and ever so good! It is filled, from cover to cover, with wonderful information. I never dreamed so much could be found in Nature that is so absorbing to read about or study.”
“I wonder why Miss Mason did not give me a copy?” was Natalie’s rejoinder.
“She spoke of it. She said she would send it by one of the girls this morning. Didn’t you get it?” asked Mrs. James.
“I wonder if it is in that box?”
As she spoke, Natalie began undoing the cord that wrapped the long box, and having removed the paper and then the box-cover, she found not only the Manual inside, but a hand-trowel and a weeder.
“Of all things!” laughed she, as she held out the box to show Mrs. James. “A shovel and a rake for my garden.”
Then it was Mrs. James’ turn to laugh. “That is not a shovel, nor is the other a rake, Natalie.”
“Oh, isn’t it? What is it, then?”
“The trowel is used when you wish to dig shallow holes, or loose-earth trenches. The so-called rake is a weeder that you can use about delicate roots, or in forcing deep roots to let go and come up. Both are very necessary for a farmer to use about his house-garden.”
“Well, if I ever have occasion to use them, I shall remember Janet.”
“Then you will be remembering her every day this summer, I think,” laughed Mrs. James. “Weeds are the pest of a farmer’s existence.”
Natalie was soon absorbed in her Scout book also, and Rachel was the only one of the trio who could tell about the scenery they passed as the train sped on to the nearest station to the secluded little village near the farm.
As the three travellers left the train and stood on the old platform of the country station, Natalie gazed about.
“My goodness! What a desert for isolation. Not a human being in sight, and no sign of a house or barn. Nothing but glaring sign-boards telling us where to stop in New York for a dollar per night—private bath extra!” exclaimed she.
Mrs. James laughed. It was true, but it sounded funny the way Natalie spoke.
“We ain’t got to walk, has we, Mis’ James?” asked Rachel plaintively.
“I don’t see anything else to do, Rachel. Do you?”
“Not yet, but mebbe someone’ll come along. I’d jes’ as soon ride behin’ a mule es not. Th’ misery in my spine isthatbad sence I’ve be’n packin’ and movin’ so hard all week.”
“A mule would be welcomed, but there is none,” laughed Natalie.
“Isn’t the landscape beautiful?” said Mrs. James, gazing about with admiring eyes.
“As long as it is all that is beautiful to look atat this station, I must agree with you, Jimmy,” teased Natalie.
But both of them now saw Rachel staring down at the dusty road that ran past the platform, and when she dropped her bags and started along the road, acting in a strange manner, Mrs. James whispered nervously to Natalie.
“What can be the matter, Natalie? Can anything have made her brain turn?”
Rachel kept on going, however, bending over and staring at the dust in the middle of the road. Natalie was dumbfounded at such queer behavior, and was about to call to the colored mammy, when Rachel suddenly stopped, straightened up and shouted at something hidden from the eyes of the two who were waiting with the bags.
“Heigh dere! Come back foh us, yoh hackman!” was the echo that was wafted back to the station and the patient waiters.
Both of them laughed heartily. And Natalie said: “That was what she was doing! Obeying Scout instructions the first thing, and ‘tracking a horse’ in the wilds of this land.”
“Maybe that is the cab Mr. Marvin ordered to meet us.”“Maybe that is the cab Mr. Marvin ordered to meet us.”
“Maybe that is the cab Mr. Marvin ordered to meet us. He said we must not be discouraged if it turned out to be a ‘one-horse chaise’ instead of a taxi,” remarked Mrs. James, highly amused at the experience.
Natalie made a vicious slap at a green bottle-fly that had annoyed her ever since she alighted from the train. Now she laughed and said: “Not a one-horse chaise, Jimmy, but ‘one horse-fly’ is here to meet us.”
It was such an opportune play on words that they both laughed merrily. Rachel was now found to be arguing with a man seated in an antique vehicle. He seemed to enjoy the conversation immensely, for he was comfortably stretched out with his feet up over the dashboard and his arms resting along the top of the back of his seat.
“Let’s go over and add our persuasions to Rachel’s,” said Natalie, picking up her luggage and starting away.
When they drew near enough to hear the conversation between Rachel and the man, the former was saying:“Yuh don’t know what I kin do to yoh! Do yuh want to see my pow’ful arm?”
The driver sat up at that and looked at the doubled up thickness of that member of Rachel’s anatomy. Then he said: “But I always gits that much a head fer such a long trip.”
“What’s the matter here?” demanded Natalie, coming up to join in the argument.
“Chile, dis highway robber wants to take fifty cents a haid fer takin’ us acrost to Green Hill Fahm. Why, it ain’t no furder’n f’om heah t’ dere, an’ I tells him it is stealin’. In Noo York sech profiteers gits what’s comin’ t’ ’em.”
Mrs. James interpolated at this. “Fifty cents each is not too much, Rachel. But he must take the luggage as well.”
The colored woman retreated at that, and cabby chuckled. “How much baggage?”
“Three suit-cases and these bags and hat-boxes.”
“I don’t see no suit-cases,” mumbled he.
“You would, if you had been at the station where you belong. The station-man took thechecks and turned the bags over to us before going away to enjoy himself until the next train comes in,” retorted Natalie, impatiently.
“All right; I’ll wait fer yuh ’til yuh git back,” agreed the driver, preparing to take things easy again.
“See here,” said Mrs. James, sternly. “Are you Amity Ketchum?”
“Yes’um,—at your service.”
“Then you’re the man our lawyer engaged to meet the train and drive us to Green Hill. Now stop your arguing and get those suit-cases, then take us to our home.”
Mrs. James’ erstwhile good-nature turned like the proverbial worm and she became very imperious. So much so, that lazy Amity chirruped to his horse and went back for the baggage. When he returned and stopped beside the ladies, Mrs. James got in and sat on the back seat that was adjustable to meet demands. Natalie got in and sat beside her, and Rachel laboriously climbed up and dropped into the vacant seat beside the driver. The entire vehiclecracked when her ponderous weight fell upon the old bench, and Amity scowled threateningly at her black, shiny face.
“I gotta stop at Tompkins’ fer some groceries,” grumbled Amity, with scant ceremony in his tones.
There was silence for the time it took to reach the “Emporium” at the Corners, but when the proprietor hurried out to welcome the city people, the latter smiled and felt better for his friendliness. Amity had gone inside to get his order filled, and then came out with arms laden with packages.
Mrs. Tompkins followed her customer out to the steps, and was introduced by her husband to the three strangers. She was very pleasant and told Mrs. James to call upon her for anything she needed or wanted done. After thanking the gracious woman, Mrs. James was about to ask her advice on an important matter, but the hackman gave his horse a cut with the hickory stick, and almost dislocated his passengers’ necks with the lurch given the vehicle.
The two storekeepers were left standing on the steps watching the buckboard pass out of sight. Mrs. James was angry, but said nothing more. She knew how Rachel’s temper was instantly kindled when anyone dared to offend a member of her revered family, and she understood just what Amity would get if he was not more considerate towards them.
Having driven little less than a mile along the good highway, Amity suddenly turned off into a rough, badly-kept country road. Mrs. James looked anxiously back, and on each side, then said: “Mr. Ketchum, this is not the road to Green Hill Farm. You should have kept right on that other road.”
“I know it!” retorted Amity. “I’m going this way so’s to leave these vittles at my house fer dinner.”
“Is your house far out on this road?” queried Mrs. James, after an unusually hard bump of the vehicle over a deep rut.
“Not so fer. I’ll turn down th’ next lane, and then to the right, and there’s my place.There’s a back road what runs from my farm to your woodland. I kin go that way and drive you up to your barn by a wood-cutter’s road,” explained Amity.
“Well, I hope you won’t find any worse roads than this is, when we turn into that lane,” was Mrs. James’ reply. But the words were disconnected because of the incessant bouncing of the buckboard along the dried mud and over large stones imbedded in it.
Rachel had to cling with both hands to the small iron handle at the side of the board seat, but she fared better than the two in the back seat, as she was too heavy to be easily moved; and the driver’s seat was stationary, whereas the second seat slid dangerously up and down the shallow grooves into which its side-feet fitted loosely. The side on which Rachel sat sagged at least ten inches lower than on Mrs. James’ side, and the latter found it necessary to balance herself on her left hip to retain any sort of seat whatever.
They had travelled a mile of this sort of roadway when Cherub, the horse, of his own accord,turned in at a gap in the old rail fence and approached a carelessly-kept farm and dilapidated house. This private road was far worse than the one they just left, but Mrs. James and her companions expressed no impatience over it.
Then they came to what might have been a very picturesque stream, had the banks on both sides been kept in order. The only visible bridge over this water was composed of enough loose planks to give passageway for wagons or cattle. These old planks were not secured in any way, and moved threateningly when anything came in contact with them.
On both sides of this crude bridge the rains had washed out the dirt from under the planks, so that deep ruts formed. And just before reaching this rut, on the side of approach by the vehicle, was a huge boulder that thrust up its jagged head from the very middle of the rough roadway.
Amity had known of this obstruction in the road for a long time, but he was too lazy to remove this menace. He had always managed toguide the horse so that the wheels just managed to clear the rock. Sometimes, with a heavy load on the buckboard, the flooring would scrape along the top of the stone, but a little nerve-racking thing like that never phased Amity.
This time, however, Cherub was in a great hurry to get his feed, which he was sure would be awaiting him in the barn, so he failed to respond to the usual hard yank on the reins. The consequence was, one fore-wheel struck sharply in the middle of the boulder, and brought the buckboard to an unexpected stop. The awful strain on the old rotten harness when Cherub pulled and the vehicle was held up, caused the frayed rope mendings to part and the eager horse hurried forward, leaving his unwelcome drag behind.
Of course, the violent halt sent the occupants of the buckboard suddenly forward, so that Mrs. James unceremoniously struck Amity in the back and caused him to lose his breath. Had he not had his feet braced against the foot-rail in front, he would have fallen forward. Rachel,not having used the foot-rail and not expecting any catapulting, went headlong over the old dashboard. As the board was meant for a screen from water and mud and not as a support for such a heavy body as Rachel’s, it splintered and let her sag down between the empty shafts, her head resting on the whiffle-tree and her heels wildly kicking close to Natalie’s head.
The two other passengers were too frightened to notice that Rachel had on her hand-knitted, gayly striped stockings, brought years ago from “Norf Car’liny” and only worn on rare occasions; and Amity was too anxious to coax Cherub back and save himself any effort by going for him, to think of assisting Rachel to extricate herself from the broken-in dashboard.
Natalie and Mrs. James jumped out and, after heroically lifting and pulling, managed to bring Rachel right-side-up once more. The moment she learned what had happened, and saw the driver waiting for Cherub to return, she shook a doughty fist at him and scolded well.
So impressive were her speech and actions thatAmity considered “discretion to be the better part of valor” this time, and jumped out to catch Cherub and bring him back to his job. While the hackman was away, Rachel turned to Mrs. James and spoke.
“Ef yoh-all pays dat good-fer-nuttin’ one cent affer my mishap, den I goes straight back t’ Noo York an’ gits d’ law on him to mek him pay me fer playin’ such tricks on defenseless women.”
“He didn’t do it on purpose, Rachel. It was an accident,” explained Mrs. James, hoping to placate Rachel before Amity came back with the horse.
“Ah don’ care—akserdent er no akserdent, I ain’t goin’ foh to have no fool-man like him dumpin’ me down between dem shaffs what is fit onny fer a mule! Now yoh heah me? Don’ yoh go foh to pay him nuttin’ fer dis trip!” retorted Rachel with ire.
Natalie laughed unrestrainedly at the funny scene, but the driver was again crossing the bridge, leading the balky Cherub, so she managed to cover her face to hide her amusement.While Amity tried to tie up the damaged portions of the harness so that the trip might be completed, Rachel came over and glared down at him.
“Say, yoh pore mis’able chunk of cotton-haid! Don’ yoh know I kin kerleck damages f’om yoh foh whad happened t’ me on dis premises of yourn?”
Amity looked up and returned her glare. “Say, you old black mammy, don’t you know I kin make you pay handsome fer smashin’ my buckboard? Even the harness would have held if you hadn’t been so heavy as to make Cherub break away from the load.”
That was too much for Rachel. She straightened up with family pride and planted her hands on her ample hips as she declared: “See heah, ig’nant clod-hoppeh! Don’ yoh go an’ fool yohse’f wid t’inkin’ I’se as easy-goin’ as dat harness ob yourn—’cus I ain’t! I’m an out-an’-out Noo Yorker, I am, an’ yoh kin ast Mis’ James! I made one on dem fresh condoctors in Noo York pay me fohty dollahs onct, when he started histrolley an’ dumped me down flat in th’ road an’ druv away a-laffin at me. An’ I wasn’t damaged half as much dat time, as you done.”
Amity had finished tying up the harness and was backing Cherub into the shafts as he listened to this warning. He now half-closed his squinty eyes and switched the quid of chewing tobacco from one cheek to the other before he replied to Rachel. Then he drawled out tantalizingly: “You big blackberry, you! Puttin’ on such airs about what you did to car-conductors! But I ain’t no easy mark like ’em,—see?”
Rachel gasped at his insolence and turned to Mrs. James for succor. Words failed her.
“Amity Ketchum,” commanded Mrs. James sternly, “drive us to our destination without further delay, or any more words!”
This gave Rachel courage to add: “Da’s whad I say, too! Whad’he wanta bring us all outen our way, anyway, when we hired him to drive us t’ Green Hill Fahm, an’ da’s all!”
“Ef someone here don’t make her shet up sassin’ me so I’ll dump all your baggidge out an’you kin all walk to Green Hill, es far es I care!” threatened Amity, standing up defiantly and refusing to get into the buckboard and start on the way.
Natalie turned to see how far the main road might be, and Mrs. James glanced fearfully at the number of heavy suit-cases and bags to be delivered at the farmhouse, but Rachel was the one to call his dare.
“Ef yoh hain’t in dat seat an’ drivin’ dat bony nag along in jus’ two secunts,—den yoh go haid-fust down in dat water—unnerstan’ me?” She rolled up her loose sleeves and showed a pair of powerful arms that looked like business.
Amity was a thin little man, and this Amazon apparently meant what she said, for she came for him with dire purpose expressed in her face. So he jumped into the buckboard and started the horse across the bridge without waiting for Rachel to get in.
Mrs. James rapped him on the shoulder to stop, and Natalie called to Rachel to hurry andget in, but Amity seemed unable to make Cherub halt and Rachel tossed her head and scorned to ask the man to let her ride. To Natalie’s coaxings, she shouted back: “Don’ worry, Honey! Rachel ain’t goin’ t’ contamerate herse’f by sittin’ nex’ to sech white trash.”
But the road was bad and walking was irksome for Rachel who was accustomed to stone walks and trolleys in the city when she felt tired. She had to jump mud-puddles that reached across the road, or plough through the sandy deep when the way ran alongside a sand-pit and sand lay heavy on the road.
Finally Amity drove up the hill that ascended from the river, and stopped beside the piazza steps. The driver felt that he had finished a hard day’s work, and now sat back resting, allowing the ladies to get down as best they could.
Mrs. James took her purse from the hand-bag to pay for the trip, when Rachel puffed up beside them. She saw the luggage still in the vehicle, and turned to order Amity.
“Carry dat baggidge t’ th’ doah, yoh lazy-bones!”
“I was hired to drive three passengers to Green Hill. I done it, an’ that’s all I have to do!” retorted he.
“Mis’ James, don’ yoh dare pay him a cent till he min’s what I tell him,” commanded Rachel, stern because she was on her own soil at last.
Amity remembered he had not been paid, so he grumblingly transferred the bags from the buckboard to the steps, then held out his hand for his payment. “Dollar an’ a half,” said he.
“Mis’ James, don’t you go an’ pay him no moh den one dollah, I tells yoh! He cain’t make me pay nottin’ cuz he made me walk half th’ way. Dat don’t stan’ in any United States Co’ht, no-how!” shrilled Rachel, furiously.
Mrs. James had opened her purse and hesitated between two fires—“to pay, or not to pay” the full price asked.
“Don’t fergit my dashboard is smashed, an’ I ain’t sayin’ a word ’bout payin’ fer dat!” snapped Amity.“An’ don’ yoh fergit my se’f respeck an’ modesty what was smashed when yoh made me stan’ on m’ haid in dose shaffs! I shore will git Mr. Marwin to sue yoh, ef yoh don’t go ’long ’bout yoh bis’nis!” exclaimed Rachel.
Mrs. James placed a dollar bill on the front seat, and turned to Natalie and said: “Open the side-door, dear, so we can go in.”
Amity got up in the buckboard, took the dollar and drove away without saying another word. Rachel waited and watched him drive to the front gate, where he turned to call back to her: “When you want a job in a circus as a giant huckleberry, come to me fer references. ‘I’ll tell th’ worl’’ what a fighter you are!”
And Rachel shouted back at him: “Yoh got th’ fust an’ last cent outen dis fam’ly foh joy-ridin’! I’m goin’ to start a hack-line an’ put yoh outen bis’nis, ef I has t’ take all m’ life-insuhance money to do it, I am. I got a nephew what’ll be glad t’ he’p me do a good turn to th’ country, as puttin’ yoh back whar yoh b’long!” Then she turned to her companions for their approval.
As Rachel labored breathlessly with the baggage, she failed to notice any changes in the appearance of the house or grounds, but Natalie saw an improvement.
“What has been done, Jimmy, to make everything look so trim and nice?”
“I hadn’t really noticed, Natalie, but now that you draw attention to the fact, I see they have trimmed the box-hedges along all the paths, and the grass has been mowed. Even the shade-trees have been pruned and cleaned out. How well it looks.”
“Laws’ee, Mis’ James! Ef dey hain’t gone an’ nailed a brass knock on dis doah!” exclaimed Rachel, dropping her burdens on the mat and staring up at the quaint old knocker that had been fastened to the Colonial door since their last visit.
When the door was thrown open, Natalie had a glimpse of the inside—now furnished and most attractive. She followed Mrs. James and Rachel indoors and clapped her hands in pleasure.
“How perfectly lovely, Jimmy! Who would have dreamed that the dusty old place would look like this with a few pieces of furniture and a good clean-up of the rooms.”
“I swan!” breathed Rachel, in admiration, as she noted the braided rag rugs on the hall floor, the Colonial mirror on the wall, and the hall-table with drop-leaves flanked on either side by two straight backed rush-bottom chairs.
“It’s almos’ as fine as dem ole manor houses in Norf Car’liny. I ust to be nuss-maid in one on ’em befoh I come Norf,” was her final appraisal of the inside of the house.
Every nook and corner had been scoured until the entire house smelled of cleanliness. Then the antique furniture that had been discovered in the attic had been cleaned and polished untilno one would have said they were the same old objects.
Mr. Marvin had selected enough braided and carpet-rag rugs for the floors as would look artistic without covering up much of the fine old oak-flooring of great wide boards. Simple cottage draperies hung at the old-fashioned windows, and the personal effects belonging to Natalie were so arranged as to give the entire interior a homey look. It was a cheerful home for a forlorn little orphan, and she felt the atmosphere of the place instantly.
Rachel had gone directly to the kitchen after she left the others in the hall, and now she was heard exclaiming delightedly: “Oh, Mis’ James—an’ Honey darlin’! Come right out to my place an’ see how fine I am!”
They hurried out through the pantry and were surprised to find what a great improvement had been made in the large kitchen, with plenty of white enamel paint, new porcelain sink and table, and a fine modern range. Even the chairs and cupboards were glistening white, and whitedotted swiss sash curtains hung at the four large windows.
“Ain’t it jus’ too gran’ fer anythin’!” giggled Rachel, as pleased as a child with a new toy.
“It certainly is! We will all want to live in the kitchen, I fear, Rachel,” said Mrs. James.
“Who ever straightened up dis house fer us, suttinly knew her bis’nis!” declared Rachel. “Jus’ look at my closets—not one thing outen place. Pans, pots, an’ dishes—jus’ whar I’d ’a’ put them myse’f.”
Natalie was too curious to inspect the up-stairs, now, to remain longer in the kitchen, so she ran away, followed by Mrs. James. Rachel was too engrossed with the idea of preparing a luncheon on the nice kitchen range to bother about up-stairs.
On the wide landing of the main stairs Mr. Marvin had had made a cushioned window-seat, so that one could sit and look out over the kitchen gardens and beyond the fields, to the woodland that bordered the stream at the extreme end of the farm. Past the woodland on the farther sideof the river rose a pretty green hill, similar to the one the house stood upon.
“Isn’t this view just glorious?” cried Natalie, as she dropped upon the seat and gazed enrapt at the scene.
After resting for some time in the window-seat, the young owner sighed and started up the rest of the stairs to the chamber floor. Here she inspected the various rooms with the old four-posted beds and high-boys, then came to a large, low-ceiled corner-room that had a similar view as had from the landing, of the side and back sections of the farm, with the woodland and stream beyond.
“Oh, how darling!” cried Natalie, seeing that all her favorite furnishings were arranged here. “This must be mine.”
“It is, dear. Mr. Marvin said he wanted you to have the best room with all your beloved objects around you. Here you can read, or sew, or plan for your estate,” said Mrs. James smiling gently at the pleased girl.
While Natalie rocked in the comfortable sewing-chairthat she remembered her mother had preferred to all others, Rachel was heard coming to the foot of the stairs. She called authoritatively, “You-all hurry right down to dis fine lunch what I got ready! Dat range bakes like Ole Ned—an’ I got jus’ de fines’ pop-overs you eveh saw’d!”
“Um! That sounds tempting, Jimmy! Let’s run,” laughed Natalie.
While the two sat down at the round mahogany table that would easily seat ten, Rachel stood in the pantry door with her hands folded over her expansive figure. She smiled indulgently when Mrs. James praised the brown disks of hot bread just from the oven, and then went back to the kitchen.
The afternoon was spent in walking about the farm and planning various wonderful things: the vegetable gardens; the place where Miss Mason proposed having her camp for the Girl Scouts; selecting the best pasture if Mr. Marvin would consent to their having a cow. Then the out-buildings had to be examined in order to ascertain if they werein good enough order to house a cow, and a pig, and chickens.
It was evening before Natalie dreamed it, and they turned toward the house with appetites that made them as ravenous as any half-starved tramp. But Rachel was ready for them, and Natalie ate a supper such as she had not enjoyed in years. Mrs. James watched with pleasure, for the air and change had already worked a great good in the girl.
The sun was setting over the woodland when Natalie came from the dining-room. She sat down on the step of the side piazza to admire the scene, when Mrs. James joined her, carrying two books.
“Oh, I wondered where those Scout books were,” remarked Natalie, taking one from her friend. “Are you going to read yours now?”
“Yes, and I thought you would like to, too. We can sit and enjoy the cool of the evening, and discuss anything in the book that you do not understand.”
After reading eagerly for some time, Nataliesaid: “I see here in the section of the book that is devoted to forming a Patrol or Troop, that each Patrol has a Leader, and also a Corporal to assist her. These offices are held through votes cast by the Scouts, and each one of these officers holds her position until another election.
“But there can be no Patrol until there are eight girls banded together to form one. How could we five girls expect to start a unit when we haven’t enough girls to begin with?”
“Miss Mason suggested that, after she opens the camp on the river land, you girls might attend one of the meetings of her Scouts and, if you like the work, join her Patrol until you have enough members with you to branch out and organize one of your own. This will not only give you girls a good beginning in the work, but also help her girls to charter a Troop.”
“When will this be, Jimmy, if Miss Mason’s girls can’t get away before July 1st?”
Mrs. James laughed. “I’m sure I don’t know, dear. Miss Mason will be better able to tell us that important point.”
“Well, at least I have the book that I can read and find out what Girl Scouts are supposed to do. Then I will be able to go right along when we do join Miss Mason’s girls.”
“That’s a good ambition, Natalie, and let the future take care of itself. You only have to take one step at a time, you know, and no human being ever lives more than one moment at a time. But how many of us plan for the future and worry about to-morrow or next week! People would stop worrying and hoarding if they understood the only right way to think and live.”
Natalie smiled, for she knew Mrs. James desired to help humanity stop its worries. So she said nothing but continued her reading of the Manual. When she reached page 60, Section VII, and began reading about the tests for Girl Scouts, she exclaimed: “Oh, now I see what I can do!”
Mrs. James looked up from her copy and waited to hear.
“I can learn and recite to you the Scout Promise and the Scout Laws, as is requested inthis section. I can acquaint myself with the Scout Salute, and when to use it. I can memorize the Scout Slogan and the Motto, and learn how respect to our Flag is expressed. All these other things I can study and know, so that I can stand up before Miss Mason’s girls and answer any questions on this section that are asked me.”
“Yes, Natalie, and you can also practice making knots, as mentioned here; learn the Scout exercises in every way; become proficient in making a fire, cook decent food, make a bed properly, demonstrate your sewing, and all the other things requested of a Scout for the tests,” added Mrs. James.
The two readers became so interested in the books that they failed to notice how dim the light was growing, until Rachel came to the side door and exclaimed at seeing them with noses buried in “Scouting for Girls.”
“Laws’ee! Ef dem books tell you-all to spile yoh eyes like-a-dis, den I ain’t got no use foh ’em. Come right along in, now, and set by alamp an’ read—ef yoh gotta finish de hull book in one night!”
Mrs. James looked up, laughed, and placed a hand over Natalie’s page. “Rachel is quite right! Here we are trying to read by twilight that would forbid anyone with common sense to attempt such a thing.”
“I’ve reached a thrilling place in the book, Jimmy! Can’t I just finish this chapter?” begged Natalie.
“Certainly, but not out here. Let us go indoors and use the table-light.”
Rachel had gone in and the lights were switched on, so Natalie ran in to enjoy the engrossing page.
“What is the chapter you are so interested in, dear?” asked Mrs. James, as they settled down in cozy comfort to continue their reading.
“Oh, this chapter called ‘Woodcraft.’ It is so wonderful to one who never dreamed of such things being in the woods!”
“My! But you must have read very quickly to have reached the thirteenth section already.I have only read up to the ninth,” returned Mrs. James.
Natalie laughed. “To tell the truth, Jimmy, I skipped some of the chapters that looked dry and educational. I saw the pictures of these mushrooms, and the little creatures of the wood, and I glanced at the opening words of the chapter. After that, I kept right on, and couldn’t stop.”
Mrs. James smiled and shook her head. “That is a bad habit to form—skipping things thatseemdry and hard to do.”
Natalie heard the gentle rebuke but smiled as she read the woodcraft chapter to its end. Then, instead of repenting of the habit of “skipping,” she turned the pages of the book and read where she found another interesting chapter. This happened to be Section XVI on a Girl Scout’s Garden. She read this part way through and then had a brilliant idea.
“Jimmy! Janet Wardell says I ought to start a vegetable garden at once, and not only raise enough for us all to live on this summer,but have some to send to the city to sell to my friends.”
“I spoke to Rachel about that plan, Natalie, and she is of the same opinion: we really ought to garden and thus save cost of living.”
“You know, Jimmy, that Janet is crazy over the war-garden she had for two years, and she told me it was the most fun! Digging and seeding down the soil, and weeding or harvesting was as much fun as playing croquet or tennis,—and a lot more remunerative. But then Janet always was ambitious. We all say she should have been a boy instead of a girl—with her go-a-headness.”
“I don’t see why a boy should be accredited with all the ambitions, and energy, or activity of young folks!” protested Mrs. James. “Girls are just as able to carry on a successful career as a boy,—and that is one thing the Girl Scouts will teach the world in general,—there is no difference in the Mind, and the ambitions and work that that Mind produces, whether it be in boy or girl. So I’m glad Janet is so positive a forcewith you four girls: she will urge you to accomplish more than you would, if left to your own indolent devices.”
“I’ll grant you that, Jimmy, but let’s talk about the possibilities of a garden, without losing any more time. Do you think we might start in at once? To-morrow, say?”
“Of course we can! In fact, I wrote our next-door neighbor, Mr. Ames, to bring his plough and horse in the morning and turn over the soil so we could see what its condition is.”
“Goody! Then I will start right in and raise vegetables and by the time the girls come down, I ought to have some greens growing up to show them!” cried Natalie.
Mrs. James laughed. “I’m not so sure that seeds will grow so quickly as to show green tops in two weeks. You must remember that ploughing, cleaning out stones and old weeds, then raking and fertilizing the soil, will take several days. By the time the seeds are planted it will have taken a week. In ten days more, we shallhave the girls with us. So our vegetables will be wonders if they pop up in ten days’ time.”
“Well—anyway—I can point out all that has been done in that time, and explain why the greens do not show themselves,” argued Natalie.
Mrs. James nodded, smilingly, to keep Natalie’s ambition alive. It was the first time in all the time she had known the girl that she had found her eagerly planning anything that was really constructive and beneficial to everyone. And especially would it prove beneficial to herself, for working in the open air, and digging in the ground, would be the best tonics she could have. And the slender, undersized, morbid girl needed just such tonic.
So Mrs. James laid aside her book and devoted the rest of the evening to the plans for a fine truck garden.
In half an hour the two had sketched a rough diagram for the garden, following the picture given in the Scout book. “All around the outside ofthe rows of vegetables, I want to plant flowers, so it will be artistic as well as useful,” said Natalie.
“If I were you, dear, I’d stick to the vegetables in the large garden, and plant flowers in the roundel and small beds about the house, where the color and perfume will reach us as we sit indoors or on the piazzas,” suggested Mrs. James.
“But the vegetable garden will look so plain and ugly with nothing but bean poles and brush for peas,” complained Natalie.
“Not so, Natalie. When the blossoms on the bean-vines wave in the breeze, and the gorgeous orange flowers bloom on the pumpkin and melon vines, or the peas send you their sweet scent, you will be glad you did as I suggest. Besides, we will need so many flowers about the house that it will take all the time and money we have to spare to take care of those beds.”
So Natalie was persuaded to try out Mrs. James’ ideas.
“How long will it take us to get the seeds toplant in our vegetable garden, Jimmy?” asked she later.
“I can telephone my order in to the seed store in the morning, and they can mail the package at once. We ought to have it in two days, at least,” answered Mrs. James.
“That will be time enough, won’t it? Because we have to plough and rake the beds first. Oh, I do hope that farmer won’t forget to come in the morning,” sighed Natalie, running to the door to look out at the night sky and see if there was any indication of rain for the morrow.
“The sky is clear and the stars are shining like beacons,” exclaimed she, turning to Mrs. James.
That lady smiled for she understood why Natalie had gone to investigate the weather signals.
“Perhaps we ought to go to bed early, Natalie, so we can be up when Farmer Ames arrives,” hinted she.
“Why, what time do you think he will be here?”
“Farmers generally begin work at five, buthe may not arrive until after his chores are attended to. I suppose we may look for him about seven o’clock.”
“Seven o’clock! Mercy, Jimmy, we won’t be awake then,” cried Natalie, surprised at such hours.
“Oh yes, we will, because everyone in the country goes to bed at nine and rises at five. We must begin the same habit.”
“Oh, oh! How outlandish! Why, we neverthinkof bed in the city until eleven,—and later if we go to the theatre, you know.”
“That’s why everyone has pasty complexions and has to resort to rouge. If folks would keep decent hours they’d be healthier and deprive the doctors and druggists of an income. We will begin to live in the country as country people do, and then we will show city folks what we gain by such living,” replied Mrs. James, mildly but firmly.
So they prepared to retire that first night on Green Hill Farm, when the hands on the old grandfather’s clock pointed to eight-forty-five.Even Rachel laughed as she started up-stairs back of her young mistress, and after saying good-night, added: “Ef I onny could grow roses in m’ cheeks like-as-how you-all kin! But dey woulden show, nohow, on my black face!”
She laughed heartily at her joke and went to the small room over the kitchen, still shaking with laughter.
The singing of the birds, nested in the old red maple tree that overshadowed the house on the side where Natalie’s room was, roused her from the most restful sleep she had had in months. No vibration of electricity such as one constantly hears and feels in the city, no shouting of folks in the streets, no milkman with his reckless banging of cans, no steamboat’s shrieks and wails such as one hears when living on the Drive, disturbed the peace and quietude of the night in the country.
“Oh my! I hope I haven’t overslept,” thought Natalie, as she sat up, wide awake. She looked at the clock on the table and could scarcely believe it was but five minutes of five.
“Why, it feels like eight to me!” she said toherself, as she sprang from bed and ran to sniff the delightful fresh air that gently waved the curtains in and out of the opened windows.
“I’m going to surprise Jimmy! I’ll be dressed and out in the garden before she wakes up,” giggled the girl, hastily catching up her bath-towel and soap, and running stealthily along the hall to the bathroom.
But her plans were not realized, because Mrs. James was up and down-stairs before Natalie ever heard the birds sing. She sat on the piazza sorting some bulbs and roots she had brought from the city in her trunk.
After Natalie was dressed, she tiptoed to Mrs. James’ door and turned the knob very quietly so the sleeper should not awake. But she found the bed empty and the room vacated.
Down-stairs she flew, and saw the side door open. She also got a whiff of muffins, and knew Rachel was up and preparing an early breakfast. Out of the door she went, and stood still when she found Mrs. James working on queer-looking roots.
“When did you get up?” asked she, taken aback.
“Oh, about quarter to five. When did you?” laughed Mrs. James.
“I woke ten minutes later, but I wanted to s’prise you in bed. I went in and found the room empty,” explained Natalie. “What sort of vegetables are those roots?”
“These are dahlia roots, and they will look fine at the fence-line, over there, that divides the field from our driveway. Do you see these dried sticks that come from each root? Those are last year’s plant-stalks. We leave them on during the winter months, so the roots won’t sprout until you plant them. Now I will cut them down quite close to the root before I put them in the ground.”
As she spoke, Mrs. James trimmed down the old stalks to within an inch of the root, then gathered up her apronful of bulbs and roots and stood ready to go down the steps.
“Do you wish to help, Natty? You can bringthe spade and digging fork that Rachel placed outside the cellar door for me.”
Natalie ran for the tools and hurried after Mrs. James to the narrow flower bed that ran alongside the picket fence. A ten-inch grass-border separated this flower bed from the side door driveway, making the place for flowers quite secure from wheeltracks or unwary horses’ hoofs.
The dahlia roots were planted so that the tip edge of the old stalks barely showed above the soil. Then the bulbs were planted: lily bulbs, Egyptian iris, Nile Grass, and other plants which will come up every year after once being planted.
“There now! That is done and they are on the road to beautifying our grounds,” sighed Mrs. James, standing up and stretching her arm muscles.
“After all I’ve said, you were the first one to plant, anyway,” complained Natalie.
“Not in the vegetable garden! And flowers are not much account when one has to eat and live,” laughed Mrs. James.
A voice calling from the kitchen door, now diverted attention from the roots and bulbs. “I got dem muffins on de table an’ nice cereal ready to dish up,” announced Rachel.
“And we’re ready for it, too!” declared Natalie.
During the morning meal, Mrs. James and her protégée talked of nothing but gardening, and the prospects of an early crop. To anyone experienced in farming, their confidence in harvesting vegetables within a fortnight would have been highly amusing. But no one was present to reflect as much as a smile on their ardor, so the planning went on.
It was not quite seven when Farmer Ames drove in at the side gate and passed the house. Natalie ran out to greet him and to make sure he had brought the plough in the farm wagon.
“Good-morning, Mr. Ames. How long will it be before you start the ploughing?” called Natalie, as the horse was stopped opposite the side door.
“Good-mornin’, miss. Is Mis’ James to home this mornin’?” asked the be-whiskered farmer, nodding an acknowledgment of Natalie’s greeting.
“Here I am, Mr. Ames. Both of us are ready to help in the gardening in whatever way you suggest,” said Mrs. James, appearing on the porch.
“Thar ain’t much to be helped, yit, but soon’s I git Bob ploughin’, you’se kin go over the sile and pick out any big stones that might turn up. Ef they ain’t taken out they will spile the growin’ of the plants by keepin’ out light and heat.”
Natalie exchanged looks with her companion. Neither one had ever thought of such a possibility.
“What shall I use for them—a rake?” asked Natalie.
“Rake—Nuthin’! all its teeth would crack off ef you tried to drag a big rock with it. Nop—one has to use plain old hands to pick up rocks and carry them to the side of the field.”
“Maybe we’d better wear gloves, Jimmy,” suggested Natalie in a whisper.
“Yes, indeed! I’m glad we brought some rubber gloves with us in case of need in the house. I never dreamed of using them for this,” returned Mrs. James.
She turned and went indoors for the gloves while Farmer Ames drove on to the barns. Natalie followed the wagon, because she felt she could not afford to lose a moment away from this valuable ally in the new plan of work.
“Mr. Ames, as soon as our garden is ploughed, can it be seeded?” asked she, when the farmer began to unhitch the horse.
“That depends. Ef your sile is rich and fertile, then you’se kin plant as soon as it is smoothed out. First the rocks must come out, then the ground is broken up fine, and last you must rake, over and over, until the earth is smooth as a table.”
“What plants ought I to choose first? You see it is so late in the season, I fear my garden will be backward,” said Natalie.
“Nah—don’t worry ’bout that, sis,” remarked the farmer. “Becus we had a cold wet spring and the ground never got warm enough fer seeds until ten days ago. Why, I diden even waste my time and money tryin’ out any seeds till last week. I will gain more in the end because the sun-rays are warm enough this month to show results in my planting. Ef I hed seeded all my vegetables in that cold spell in May they would hev laid dormant and, mebbe, rotted. So you don’t need to worry about its bein’ late this year. Some years that is true—we kin seed in early May, but not this time.”
“I’m so glad for that! Now I can race with other farmers around here and see who gets the best crops,” laughed Natalie.
“What’cha goin’ to plant down?” asked Mr. Ames, curious to hear how this city girl would begin.
“Oh, I was going to leave that to your judgment,” returned she naïvely.
“Ha, ha, ha!” was the farmer’s return to this answer. Then he added: “Wall now, I kin giveyou some young tomater plants and cabbiges an’ cauliflower slips. Them is allus hard to seed so I plants mine in a hot-bed in winter and raises enough to sell to the countryside fer plantin’ in the spring. I got some few dozen left what you are welcome to, ef you want ’em.”
“Oh, fine! I certainly do want them,” exclaimed Natalie. “Can I go to your house, now, and get them?”
“Better leave ’em planted ’til you wants to put ’em in your garden. They will wilt away ef you leave ’em out of sile fer a day er night. Besides, this stonin’ work will keep you busy to-day.”
Mrs. James now joined them, and handed Natalie a pair of rubber gloves. Farmer Ames stared at them in surprise for he had never seen anyone wear gloves while gardening—at least, not in Greenville.
As he drove Bob and the plough to the garden-space, Natalie and Mrs. James followed, talking eagerly of the plants promised them by the farmer.
“Mr. Ames, you forgot to tell me what seeds to plant first?” Natalie reminded him, as he rolled up his shirt sleeves, preparatory to steering the plough.
“Well, that is a matter of chice. Some likes to seed their radishes fust, an’ some get their lettuce in fust. Now I does it this way: lettuce grows so mighty fast that I figgers I lose time ef I put it down fust and let the other vegetables wait. So I drops in my beets, radishes, beans, peas, and sech like, an’ last of all I gets in the lettuce seed. I gen’ally uses my early plants from the hot-bed fer the fust crop in my truck-garden. I got some little beet plants, and a handful of radish plants what was weeded out of the over-crowded beds, that you may as well use now, and seed down the others you want. My man is going over all the beds to-day, and I will hev him save what you kin use in your garden.”
“Oh, how good you are! I never knew strangers in the country would act like your own family!” exclaimed Natalie. “In the cityeveryone thinks of getting the most out of you for what they have, that you might need.”
Both the adults laughed at this precocious denunciation of city dealers. Old Bob now began to plod along the edge of the garden-space with his master behind guiding the plough. Natalie walked beside the farmer and watched eagerly as the soil curled over and over when the blade of the plough cut it through and pushed it upwards.
Farmer Ames was feeling quite at home, now that he was working the ground, and he began to converse freely with his young companion.
“Yeh know, don’cha, thet the man what lived here fer ten years, er more, was what we call a gentleman farmer. He went at things after the rules given in some books from the Agricultural Department from Washerton, D. C. He even hed a feller come out from thar and make a test of the sile. The upshot of it all was, he got a pile of stuff from Noo York—powders, fertilizers, and such, an’ doctored the hull farm until we gaped at him.
“But, we all hed to confess that he raised the finest pertaters, and corn, and other truck of anyone fer many a mile around. I allus did say I’d foller his example, but somehow, thar’s so much work waitin’ to be done on a farm, that one never gits time to sit down to writin’. So I postponed it every year.”
“Why, this is awfully interesting, Mr. Ames. I never knew who the tenant was, but he must have had a good sensible education on how to run a farm, or he wouldn’t have known about these fertilizers.”
“Yeh, we-all ust to grin at him for fuddling about on the sile before he’d seed anythin’—but golly! he got crops like-as-how we never saw raised before.”
“I could try the same methods,” said Natalie musingly.
“He worked over the sile every year, and never planted the same crops in the same places. He called it a sort of rotary process, and he tol’ me my crops would double ef I did it.”
“Did he mix in the doctorings every year, too?” asked Natalie.
“Sure! That’s why he sent little boxes of dirt to Washerton—to find out just what to use in certain qualities of sile.”
“Then I ought to do it, too, hadn’t I?” asked she.
“Not this year, ’cause he said the last year he did it, that now he could skip a year or two. But you’ve gotta mix in good fertilizer before you plant. Then you’se kin laff at all us old fogy farmers what stick to old-fashioned ways.”
Farmer Ames laughed heartily as if to encourage his young student, and to show how she might laugh after harvesting. Natalie gazed at him with a fascinated manner, for his lower lip had such a peculiar way of being sucked in under his upper teeth when he laughed. Not until Mrs. James explained this, by saying that Farmer Ames had no lower teeth, did she lose interest in this mannerism.
“I know all about the tools a farmer has to use in his work, Mr. Ames,” bragged Natalie.
“Oh, do yeh? Wall then, you kin get the rake and hoe, and fix up the sile where the plough is done turned it up.”