~A> - DUE or d helow '"'- STATE NORM/itS(20UL, UOS HflGELtES, CAIk. MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW iiAiENUKMALSOSWL, UOS flNGHUES, CHli. MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW BY FRANCES DUNCAN WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY LEE WOODWARD ZEIGLER :' ,:::. NEW YORK: THE CENTURY CO. 1908 Copyright, 1904, by THE CENTURY Co. Published November, 190b THE DEVINNE PRESS SUIE NORMAL SCHOOL, liOS SB CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE i MR. TROMMEL'S ASSISTANT .... 3 ii THE ASSISTANT AT WORK .... 11 in PLANTING IN BOXES ....... 17 iv CROCUSES AND THE SNOWDROP ... 26 v MAKING CUTTINGS ....... 33 vi BEGINNING THE GARDEN ..... 38 vii PLANTING SWEET PEAS ..... 45 TIII MAKING A ROSE GARDEN ..... 56 ix WAITING FOR THE SWEET PEAS . . 66 x PLANTING ........... 75 xi MAKING THE SUMMER-HOUSE ... 84 xn MARY LEARNS PRUNING ..... 93 xni A NEW IDEA ......... 106 xiv THE HORTICULTURAL CLUB . . . .112 xv SETTING OUT PRIVET CUTTINGS . . 124 v VI CHAI CONTENTS xvi MR. TROMMEL VISITS THE GARDENS . 132 xvn SETTING OUT SEEDLINGS 145 xvin MARY IN MR. TROMMEL'S GARDEN . 149 xix TRANSACTIONS OF THE HORTICUL- TURAL CLUB 156 xx THE POPPIES 164 xxi THE CLUB IN MARY'S GARDEN . . 170 xxn WHEN MARY WAS IN THE COUNTRY . 182 xxni MR. TROMMEL TEACHES THE ART OF BUDDING 187 xxiv TRANSPLANTING PERENNIALS . . . 195 , xxv THE FLOWER SHOW * . . 204 xxvi SETTING OUT BULBS 215 xxvn BULBS FOR THE WINDOW-GARDEN . 225 xxvni THE WINDOW- GARDEN 230 xxix PLANTING TREES 235 xxx MAKING A COMPOST HEAP .... 250 xxxi PUTTING THE GARDEN TO SLEEP . .257 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW tlOS AJMGELiES, CAIi. MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW CHAPTEE I IB/07 MR. TROMMEL'S 'ASSISTANT [December] IF you had looked out of a south window of the Maxwell house the day after Christmas, you would have seen a little figure hurrying along the path to the side gate, the brown curls bobbing vigor- ously up and down with the exertion. Mr. Maxwell was looking out of the window, watching the small figure which was making such a bee-line toward the little house with the roof all peaks and gables, the long glass house at the side, just across the road from the Maxwells' side gate. "Going over to see old Trommel, I suppose," he said, turning to his wife, with a laugh. " We '11 have 3 4 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW a gardener in the family if we 're not careful, Helen ; but I see a glimmer of hope for your rubber- plant" "We certainly need a gardener," responded she. "But you need n't laugh at my rubber-plant. You know perfectly well, Roger Maxwell, that you could n't make even a rubber-plant grow if you sat and fanned it all day. I only hope she does n't bother dear old Peter," Mrs. Maxwell added, as the child disappeared behind the greenhouse door. But Herr Peter Trommel, gardener, horticultu- rist, retired florist, and above all Siritzer, was not in the least bothered. He was standing at the far end of the long greenhouse, a pile of soil on the bench in front of him, busily potting plants an old man, very short, very broad, with a thick bush of beard. "Mr. Trommel, Mr. Trommel ! " called a joyous little voice as the door opened. The old man turned around. "Ha ! That is mine young assistant ! " he ex- claimed, beaming through his spectacles at the small visitor. "I brought over your present, Mr. Trommel, and I liked that 'most the best of anything, except Evan- ME. TROMMEL'S ASSISTANT 5 geline. Suppose I put it on. "Would n't you like to have me help you ? " she said coaxingly as she unrolled a diminutive gardener's apron, made of blue denim, just like the one Mr. Trommel had tied about his capacious person. "Yes, yes," agreed Herr Trommel ; " I am in need of assistance. But hang up your coat and hat, little one ; they must not drop on the floor, for it is dirt." Mary hung up coat and hat, took off her rubbers, and then put the strap of the apron over her head and pulled out the curls that were caught under- neath it. "My strings come around in front and tie just like yours," she said, proudly ; then rolled up her sleeves above her elbows in faithful imitation of Mr. Trommel's shirt-sleeves. "Prachtvoll ! " declared Mr. Trommel. "Now you are a real gardener." He left the greenhouse, and in a moment came back with a small dry-goods box, -which he set in front of the potting-bench. "That -will be about right to stand on," said he. "Oh, is it for me?" cried the little girl. "It is for mine assistant, for mine under-gar- dener," said the old man. " Now, Liebchen, we will 6 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW to work. Those little pots are yours ; those little plants," and he laid a half-dozen tiny rooted cuttings at her left hand, " are for you ; that is your pile of soil. "Now watch me carefully. I put the pot be- fore me so. I put a little earth in the bottom of the pot so : just a little, that the roots will not try to eat the hard crock. I hold the small plant in my left hand so : as it will stand when it is planted. With my right hand I cast the fine soil about the roots so. I press it lightly with my fingers so. It will now stand upright. I cast in more soil. I press it down more firmly. It needs now but the finishing touch. I cast a little soil on top, lightly ; I do not press it down : I give the plant a little shake, a little knock on the bench so. It is done." He stood back a step and surveyed with pride the work of his hands. Mary watched with admiring eyes ; then she tried faithfully to imitate, the chubby fingers poking the Dearth down carefully in the tiny pot. "How is that?" she asked anxiously. The old man took it in his big fingers and exam- ined it attentively. "It is not quite straight, little one j and it goes in too deep. You would not like to sleep all night with your head under the bed- MR. TROMMEL'S ASSISTANT clothes? No? This little fellow does not like that he get too far under, either." He took a little plant from the pile of rooted cut- tings, and held it up. "See," he said, pointing to the mark of the earth, "that is as far as he goes under the covers. If he is in too deep he cannot breathe." He turned the pot upside down, knocking it lightly on the edge of the bench, and handed the empty pot back to her. "A little more soil in the bottom see ? " and he picked up another pot for himself. "Ah, that is better j now look at me again." " The brown eyes of the young assistant watched the big fin- gers intently, the small brown hands worked industriously. At last she handed him a pot for inspection. Instead of pok- ing and pushing the earth, Mr. Trommel looked at this one with undisguised admiration. "Ha," he exclaimed, beaming through his spectacles, "that is the work of a gardener ! " 8 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW The little girl laughed delightedly. "I 'm going to be a gardener when I grow up," she confided a moment later, "and I 'm going to have a garden just like yours, and a big glass house like yours, and roses and palms and everything in it " "Yes, yes," broke in Mr. Trommel ; "a fine ambition. But be careful, little one ; you are pushing the plant crooked you must pot well if you would have a fine garden." Mary repaired the mistake with repentant energy. "What kind of plants are these, Mr. Trommel! You did n't tell me." "No?" said the old gardener, inquiringly. "It is Daphne. Do you know the story about Daphne ? " The under-gardener shook her head. "Daphne, little one, was once a beautiful young lady. She was what they call a nymph that is, a kind of young lady that lived in the woods." "That must be nice," put in his listener. "Yes, but it was not all pleasant ; for once one of those young gods the one they called Apollo saw her, and he tried to catch her" MR. TROMMEL'S ASSISTANT 9 "Maybe he was just playing tag," suggested the owner of the brown eyes. "Perhaps," admitted Mr. Trommel 5 "but Daphne was frightened and hid herself in a great hollow tree. The young man could not then find her. But when Daphne wished to get out she could not she was become a tree. That was what Apollo did to her." "How could he?" asked the under-gardener. u Ach I " said Mr. Trommel ; "he was a very power- ful young man. And since then she has changed still more : she has become a shrub. See ! " and he held up the tiny pot in his hand ; "we will have to wait some years for this one, but then the branches will be grown and the first thing in the spring they will all be covered with the dear little pink blossoms so fragrant ! Ah, you must come and see Daphne then!" "Oh ! I will," said Mary. They worked in silence for a few minutes ; the uuder-gardener was lost in thought. "Mr. Trommel," she said suddenly, "why could n't I have a little garden at home, in a box in the window, I mean ? Would you show me how 1 " "Yes, yes, we shall see," answered the old man, 10 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW "but not to-day ; it is now time to go back, or you will be late for dinner. Wash your hands well in the tub of water, Liebchen, or the lady mother will think that gardeners are not nice." "May I hang my apron on the nail here," asked Mary, "next to where you hang yours? " "Yes, yes ; I have a nail put lower down that is easier to reach. Have you found it? " "I had a very nice time, Mr. Trommel," said the under-gardener, as she rose, rather breathless from the exertion of putting on her rubbers. "It is good to have help," responded the old man. "Wait a minute," and he went to another bench and picked a small, pale-pink oxalis blossom ; "that is for the lady doll." CHAPTEK II THE ASSISTANT AT WORK [February] OF course on the sunshiny days there were other things to do, but every rainy afternoon found Mary across the street, hard at work in the big green- house. One of the nicest things to do was to spray the plants from the hose ; it is much more interest- ing than watering with a little watering-pot. "That is what makes the palms so lovely and green, is n't it, Mr. Trommel 1 You give them a bath so often." "That is right : they cannot breathe if they are not clean ; they breathe all over their bodies, not like we do, through a mouth and nose." "Were you ever away in the country where you could not have a bath-tub, and instead you had to be sponged all over for your bath?" 11 12 MAKY'S GAKDEN AND HOW IT GEEW Mary nodded. "Yes j well, that is the kind of bath the plants must sometimes have when they are in your house. In their own house, that is, in the greenhouse, they have things to their liking, and they have the shower- bath or the spray, as they need ; but in your house, if you cannot give them that, you must just take a basin and a little water not too cold and a little sponge, and sponge the leaves carefully as if you were washing a baby then they can breathe." "There, there ! " exclaimed Mr. Trommel, alarmed at the under-gardener's abandon in the use of the hose "we have given water enough ! Sit down here by me and watch me graft, and tell me about the garden." " We-ell," began Mary, taking a long breath, "I 'm going to have a garden all my own. Father says I can have a place in the back yard, and I 'm going to plant everything in it sweet peas, and roses, and nasturtiums, and pumpkins to make jack-o'-lanterns of. Could n't I begin it now, Mr. Trommel ? " "It is not yet March," said the old man, medita- tively; "the little things would freeze out of doors before they could show their heads. Besides, we can- not yet dig ; we could only plant in boxes now." THE ASSISTANT AT WORK 13 "What is that you are doing? " asked Mary, forget- ting her garden and suddenly interested in Mr. Trommel's operations. The old man was sitting by a low bench, and had in front of him a row of balls of earth almost as large as croquet-balls, and protruding from each one was what looked like a dead brown stick. "What is that?" she asked again, as Mr. Trommel picked up one of these unmeaning-looking balls. "This is grafting," he answered. "This in my hand, this is the stock." He held it wedged between his knees while he selected a smooth, green, prosperous- looking young shoot from a few he had laid beside him, "and this, this is the scion, that is, the baby he must adopt." He held the little twig be- tween his lips. "See, I make a little slice off the stock that is, the papa so." He laid it aside, and took the young shoot again in his hand ; "then I take a little slice off the baby so" (suiting the action to the word and making a clean, smooth cut with his knife). He took up the stock again, and the two cut surfaces fitted together beautifully ; holding them 14 MAKY'S GAKDEN AND HOW IT GKEW with thumb and finger, he pulled a strand of raffia from the bunch thrust through his apron- strings and began to wind it around the two as carefully as if he were ban- daging a limb. "I tie them together so. "Now," said Mr. Trommel, " 7-#v~te and gave a little /v <~/vf9v^ grunt as he fas- tened the raffia r#e-~ string, "the papa **v/v> w in have to pro- vide for the little one. All that he gets to eat from the soil goes to make the baby fat. He can have no pretty clothes, no flowers on the child has it all ; he must just work, work, send out roots, and find something to eat. It is a hard life for the stock." "Does n't the little branch do anything?" asked Mary. THE ASSISTANT AT WORK 15 "No ; the little one just lives off the papa, grows big, and looks pretty that is all." "Let me do one/' coaxed the little girl. "No, no," said the old gardener, hastily. " The knife is big for you, and you might get hurt ; be- sides, I wish them to grow. Let us talk about the garden." "We-ell," began the under-gardener again, "it 's going to be in the back yard, and father says I can have all the ground I want at the back of the yard, but I must n't go where Norah hangs the clothes, and I 'm going to have a beautiful garden. Do you think I could make a greenhouse like yours? " she suggested. "That would take some time, little one ; besides, one does not want a green- house in the summer, when one can be outdoors. You should have a pretty little garden, and some garden-seats, yes ! And perhaps a summer- house for the lovely doll, yes? and pretty flowers all around that will not be much trouble and little paths that are not for big folks among the little flower-beds" The brown eyes widened with delight. "Oh, yes ! " 16 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW breathed the under-gardener, ecstatically "that would be bea-yu-tiful. And we could do it, could n't we ? " she asked eagerly. "We are both such fine gardeners, Liebchen," said the old man, "that if the Heir Papa will but give us the laud, undoubtedly we could." CHAPTEE III PLANTING IN BOXES [March] A RE N'T we going to plant the boxes, Mr. Trom- -~^- mel?" coaxed Mary. "You said 'in a few days/ and that was yesterday." Herr Trommel laughed. "Liebchen," he said solemnly, "I fear you will grow to be the landscape- architect, as these Americans call -a gardener. Al- ready you have the passion for immediate effect. Why not wait and plant the seeds in the ground, and then the liebe Gott will help take care of them. If you have them in your house you will forget to give the little things a drink, and they will die." "I think I could remember them better if we left them over here. I never forget to water things over here, Mr. Trommel," said Mary earnestly. "Well, well; it is now March. We will make 2 17 18 MAKY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GKEW ready the boxes to-day. Have you the seeds? Then you shall bring them over and we will start the babies growing. See if you can find three boxes under that bench yonder." The under-gardeuer crawled with alacrity under the bench, and brought out, one after another, three shallow boxes, each two feet long and a foot wide, but not more than three inches deep. "That is right ; now you must fill them." But before he had finished speaking, one of the boxes was on the potting-bench, and the small brown hands were rapidly scooping up the earth and filling it. "Hold! Wait a bit! Not so fast ! exclaimed Mr. Trommel. "You must mix a little sand with that soil it is too rich for the babies ; it must be nourishing, but ifor the very little ones it must also be plain ; half sand is not too much." He scooped with his big hand some sand from another bench, threw it into Mary's half-filled box, then bent down and took from under the bench a shallow square box with a bottom of wire netting ; this he placed over one of the empty boxes. "It is better to sift it again," he said. "Oh, let me do it," begged the under-gardener. "It is just like making cookies." " ' IT is BETTER TO SIFT IT AGAIN,' HE SAID ' 20 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW She sifted the sand and earth, giving the box little professional shakes, until it was full of the fine, soft earth and perfectly level. "This is ever so much nicer than the dirt I have in my garden. It would make lovely mud-pies," said Mary, passing a chubby brown hand reflectively over the fine soil. " What makes it so much nicer, Mr. Trommel t Don't the seeds like the other kind ? " "That is fine soil," said the old gardener. "It is sifted ; it is rich, for the fertilizer is well mixed in ; so it is better for the little ones. Does the lady mama ever cut your meat for you ? " he asked. "She used to," admitted the under-gardener. "Yes," said Mr. Trommel; "that is because you were yet a little girl ; now you are larger you will cut it always for yourself. On the plants that we shall have here the roots are little ; they cannot take and eat the big lumps as the trees can j we must make it small. I sift it many times ; then it is nice for the little roots that cannot take big mouthfuls." "I understand," said the assistant. "Now I'll run home and get the seeds." "Here they are, Mr. Trommel!" cried Mary, coming in flushed and breathless, her hat a-dangle PLANTING IN BOXES 21 at the back of her neck. "I ran 'most all the way." Mr. Trommel put down his watering-pot and laughed. "Ach! what a rush we are in! The plants will not make haste for you like that ! " The under-gardener laid the package on the bench and tugged at the string. "I wanted to get a packet of every kind there was, but my money gave out," she explained, "and I had fifty cents saved from Christmas. There 's nasturtiums and chrysanthe- mums and sunflowers and poppies and asters and sweet peas and marigolds and hollyhocks," she enu- merated proudly, counting over one by one the gaily colored seed packets. "Can't we plant them right now?" she finished, standing on tiptoe and stretch- ing over the bench to pull one of the boxes within easy reach. "The haste of the young American!" said Mr. Trommel. " You will have them all planted in the boxes before I see what you have. We had better save some of the seeds to plant in the ground," he said persuasively. "The three boxes we have pre- pared will be enough to care for, and a good gardener puts only one kind of seeds in a box, that they do not be mixed." 22 MARY'S 'GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW Mary looked a bit depressed. "Perhaps you would like to plant some in a box at home, and let them grow in a window, if you are in so great haste," suggested Mr. Trommel. But the assistant still looked troubled. "I was going to plant some in the house," she said. "I got a box and fixed the soil just as we did yesterday. I could n't dig up any in the yard, but there was a flower-pot in the house, and the plant was all dead, so I took that. "Your sieve must be different from ours, Mr. Trom- mel ; I tried the sieve from the flour-barrel, and - the dirt would n't go through it ; but the colander worked nicely ; and I was getting the bdx filled just like these, but Norah came in and made an awful fuss because, she said, I got her sieve all dirty, and she opened the window and threw out all the nice sifted earth ! " Mr. Trommel shook his head sympathetically. "She was real cross," went on the under-gardener. "I '11 tell you just what she said. ' Planting gardens is it 1 ?' that 's what she said 'It 's just mussing in the dirt that all childer be after, and old Trommel should be transported for putting you up to it' that % 's just what she said. What 's 'transported,' PLANTING IN BOXES 23 Mr. Trommel 1 ?" and the under-gardener fixed two grave brown eyes on the shining spectacles. The old man meditated a moment. "It is 'de- lighted/ " he said ; "it is ' very happy.' In the stories when the fine young man sees the beautiful young princess they say he was ' transported with joy.' " "Oh ! " said Mary thoughtfully, "then I will for- give Norah for saying it about you. But but I think we 'd better just start the seeds here." "Yes, yes," agreed Herr Trommel; "the three boxes will be all you can well take care of. Let us think. Suppose we take the holly- hocks first ; they have to grow for so long before they can bloom ; it is right to give them the first chance a head start, do you call it ? Yes. And the asters, and the marigolds, yes ? Those sweet peas and the nas- turtiums, they go 'way down deep they will do as well to wait and start outside. The sunflowers also, they do not like to be moved ; they better go outside, too." Mr. Trommel pulled one of the boxes toward the edge of the bench, and, with a piece of lath for a ruler and a pointed stick for a pencil, he drew lines 24 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW lightly across the smooth earth of the freshly filled box, as if he were ruling a slate for writing, only these lines were an inch apart. "Now, little one, drop the seeds in one at a time along these lines." "My mama, when she put seeds in a box, just scat- tered them all over," objected Mary. "The lady mama," said Mr. Trommel, "is a most excellent lady, but she is not a professional gar- dener." "Like you and me 1 ? " asked the under-gardener. "Yes, yes ; not a professional like you or me. You see, mine assistant, we cannot begin too early to teach the little plants to be orderly and not play with the bad plant-children that is, the little weeds. We plant them this way so that they get not mixed when they are very small. "Now press the seeds down lightly. No, no ! Not so very gently" ; for the under-gardener had begun to pat with vigor. "Now we water them, don't we?" she asked. "Just sprinkle with the little watering-pot? " "Yes, but wet them well this first time ; and re- member, little one, we must not let the little things get quite dry. These babies cannot eat much yet ; PLANTING IN BOXES 25 they drink and drink, not much at a time, but often ; they must have the liquid food, as the doctors say. Also they must be kept warm. So you must not forget them." CHAPTEE IV CROCUSES AND THE SNOWDROP [March] "TVT Y little crocuses are J 115 * awake," said Mr. -lJ-1- Trommel to Mary, who had stopped at his gate on the way to school. "You want to come and look at them!" The under-gardener promptly hung her school-bag on a picket of the fence. "You are sure there is time? " he questioned, be- fore he opened the gate. "I must not make you late for school j that is a dreadful thing." "I 'm very early," assured Mary. "I was just going 'way around by Margaret's house. There 's lots of time." "Well, well," said Mr. Trommel, "the little crocuses are awake. But you have not seen my snowdrops, either. Run down the path and you will find them -there ! " 26 CROCUSES AND THE SNOWDROP 27 "In front of this pussy-willow ?" "Pussy-willow, indeed!" exclaimed Herr Trom- mel, indignantly. "That is a Japanese magnolia that is Magnolia-stellata. The buds wear the fur hoods, it is true, but they are fatter, and the fur is finer. They are no pussy- willows ! " But Mary was bending over the infant crocuses, that were just begin- ning to show their gold. "Are n't they darlings ! " she said. "Do you know where they get the gold from 1 ?" asked Mr. Trommel. "No ? It is some of the Nibelungen. gold that the Rhine maidens stole away from Alberich. You know that the Mother Earth, Erda, takes care of it, and she wished to put it where it would do no harm, so she gave some of it to the little cro- cuses to keep, and now that the crocuses have it, men may love it and it does them no harm ; they do not quarrel nor fight over it any more. "Come and let us find the snowdrops. Ah, they are the darlings!" he said, kneeling down in the dead brown grass, where groups of the dainty blos- soms had pushed up through the earth and were nod- 28 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW ding joyously in the rough March wind. "It is a dear one, this first baby of the year, so dainty and so brave, too ! " "Could n't I have one ? " begged the under-gardener. "Certainly, certainly, little one yes, yes ; take a little bunch of them. But I like better, myself, to look at them here. See how dainty the little stalks are so strong, yet so slight ; and see how prettily the little bell is balanced, and look inside the pretty bell and see the fine little lines of green is it not lovely?" "How does it ever come up through the ground without getting a bit mussed? " asked Mary, looking wonderingly at the slender little flower. "You see that white tip at the end of the leaf? It is very hard." Mary nodded. "Yes. Well, when it is ready to come up through the ground, the leaf is folded and rolled tightly, and the little snowdrop is curled safe inside, and the hard, white point of the leaf pushes and bores its way through the earth ; that is the way it comes up. Do you know the story about the snowdrop?" "No, I never heard it. Tell me, Mr. Trommel," she begged. CROCUSES AND THE SNOWDROP 29 "Well," said the old gardener, meditatively, "the snowdrop was once a little snow maiden. You have heard, perhaps, of the Little People of the Snow? Yes?" The listener nodded eagerly. "Oh, yes, I know all about them ; it was a snow maiden that Eva went with a fairy creature ' With lily cheeks and floating flaxen hair, And eyes as blue as ice.' They used to come down, from the high mountains in the winter. ' With trailing garments through the air they came, Or walked the ground with girded loins, and threw Spangles of silvery frost upon the grass, And edged the brook with glistening parapets, And built it crystal bridges, touched the pool, And turned its face to glass.' Don't you remember ? And Eva met the little Snow maiden by the big linden and went with her." "Yes, yes," said Mr. Trommel. "Well, the snow- drop was once one of those little people, and she lived in a wonderful snow palace." "I know about them, too," broke in the listener, with shining eyes. "The Snow maiden took Eva in 30 MAKY'S GAEDEN AND HOW IT GEEW and showed it to her, and she saw the wonderful dance through the window of of ' pellucid ice 'and she said, 'Look, but thou mayst not enter!' and there were gardens and trees and flowers," she went on breathlessly, "and all ' seemed wrought Of stainless alabaster.' " The old gardener smiled. "Yes. Well, little one, there was once a fine young knight imprisoned under the snow palace; he did not belong to the little Snow People ; he was one of Mother Earth's children. His name was Galanthus, and he wore a suit of beau- tiful green armor. "One day the little Snow maiden found him there, in the dungeon under the palace, and she was sorry for him. So every day she crept down to the dun- geon, and the young knight told her stories of his Mother Earth and the wonderful things she did, which the little Snow maiden had never heard of. "Now, you know the spring is death to the little Snow People ; before a breath of warmth touches the snow they are frightened, and rush and hurry to the high mountains, where there is snow and cold all the year. But the little Snow maiden forgot about CROCUSES AND THE SNOWDROP 31 the south wind. She was in the dungeon with the green knight, listening to the stories she loved, when suddenly the walls of the snow palace began to trem- ble and fall. It was the breath of the south wind. The little Snow maiden knew it was death ; she was frightened, and trembled and wept. Then the knight Galanthus took her in his arms j but it was of no use : in a moment he was changed, too. The beautiful green armor became dull and brown, and the knight was as if he was dead. But he still held the little Snow maiden in his arms, and they sank together into the ground, down, down ! "Now, the ground is a wonderful place, and the Mother Earth was sorry for the little Snow maiden because she had lost her playmates ; so she promised her that she might go back to the light again to find them. "So every year the little snowdrop comes up from the earth. She must wait all the winter until Galan- thus can push his way through the ground ; and as soon as he can he lifts the little Snow maiden in his arms, and he folds her close in his green cloak, so she is not frightened ; then he takes his green lance with the silver point and pushes his way up to the light. "But the Snow maiden is always just too late : the 32 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW Little People of the Snow are gone. She is sorry ; that is why the snowdrop hangs her head." The under-gardener drew a long breath, and the two walked up the path to the gate in silence. She took her school-bag from the fence-picket. "I know now why the snowdrop has the little streaks of green 'way inside the bell," she said. "Yes ? " said Mr. Trommel, inquiringly. "It is the knight's color. In the stories, you know, the knight always wears the princess's color. But the little Snow maiden loved Galanthus, and so she wore his color. Of course she would n't wear it outside, for it is n't the thing ; so she fastened the green 'way inside the little bell, where nobody could see it. And she really does n't care that she has lost the Little People of the Snow. Even if she does hang her head, she does n't look a bit sorry. She would rather stay with Galanthus." "I believe you are right, Liebchen," said the old CHAPTER V MAKING CUTTINGS [March] "TS N'T there something else we can do for my gar- -- den ? " asked Mary. It was a rainy day late in March, and some of the seeds were so very leisurely in coming up that the under-gardener was beginning to feel the discomfort of hope deferred. "Um-m-m," said Herr Trommel, reflectively, as he wound the raffia-string about the young azalea he was grafting. "I tell you, little one," he said, after a few minutes' thought, "you will be having the borders to your flower-beds ; the box would be too slow for you yes? We will make a tiny little low hedge of privet " The under-gardener was immediately interested. "Yes," went on Mr. Trommel ; "and if you can be very careful with the big knife, you shall make the cuttings." 3 33 34 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW "I will be very careful," assured the under-gar- dener. "Will it be a real hedge, that I can trim myself? " "Yes, yes, if the lady mama will lend you her scissors." "I have scissors of my own," said Mary, with dignity. Mr. Trommel left the greenhouse for a mo- ment, and then came back with a bundle of privet branches in his hand about a yard long. "I cut them this morning to start a little hedge for myself, but you shall have some ; old Trommel can wait," he said, as he cut the string of the bundle and picked up one of the branches. "Now look carefully," and he cut about an inch off the thicker end of the branch, "just below the 'eye.' See? That is the end that goes in the ground. Now," and he made another quick, clean cut, leaving in his left hand a bit of the privet branch three inches long, "just above the ' eye 'that is, the top. Some people, just because privet will grow, whatever you do to it, they take the shears and chop, chop, cut off square, as if they would make fodder for cattle 5 but the good gardener takes the knife and makes the slanting cut MAKING CUTTINGS 35 just below the 'eye' at the bottom, just above the ' eye ' at the top. Sometimes, when we put them in the ground right at once, not in the sand on the bench, we make them longer twice as long ; but that is long enough for you. Now," and he handed her his knife, "you make one." "Why do you call those little bumps on the stick ' eyes ' I " questioned the under-gardener, as she took the branch from Mr. Trommel. "Why do we call them 'eyes'?" repeated the old German. "I think it is because they are the little windows that the little leaves can peek out of when they are looking to see if it is warm enough to come out." "Oh," said Mary, comprehendingly. "Ah, that is nice," said Mr. Trommel, looking ap- provingly at the cutting which Mary held up for in- spection ; "that is right. Be careful that you lay the little cuttings all the same way, Liebchen, else you will be putting some little fellow in the sand head first" The small fingers worked assiduously. "No, no," said Mr. Trommel, as she came, in the cutting-making process, to the thin end of the branch ; "throw that away. That is too little, too 36 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW weak j it is not strong enough to start out for itself. You see, little one, we' take the cuttings from the wood that is young and strong. Do you know that it is hard to move old people they do not like to try the new place ? No 1 So we cannot make cut- tings of the old wood ; they do not like to try the new way of life : they will not strike out for them- selves. And we cannot make them of the very young wood, either ; then they are too weak to work for themselves. They should be about one year old. "Come, now. Stand up on the box and I will show you how we put them in the sand. I take my ruler and my pointed stick, and I draw a line so from the back of the bench to the edge." "I think if I get up on the bench," suggested Mary, "that I can see much better." So she perched on the edge of the bench and watched Mr. Trommel attentively. "I poke a hole with the stick so," said Mr. Trom- mel, illustrating as he went on ; "I put the little cut- ting in so till he is half in ; then I press the soil down so," he went on rapidly, putting in one after another in the firm, damp sand. "Let me let me ! " begged Mary. "Well, well," assented Mr. Trommel, resigning his MAKING CUTTINGS 37 pointed stick. "Carefully, now, and press the soil down so. After they are all in we must water them well." "Would they grow for me, Mr. Trommel," asked Mary, "if I just cut some branches from our hedge and made the cuttings and put them in a box in the house?" "They will grow for anybody," answered the old man. "Just put them not in the sun for three or four days, till they have a little time to think, and then in the sun. They would grow, too, if we waited until it is a little warmer, and then put them in the ground in the garden, instead of starting them here in the house." CHAPTER VI BEGINNING THE GARDEN [April] MARY had just finished her breakfast and was leaning back in her chair, engaged in blissful meditation. It was the Easter vacation, and you did n't have to think about going to school the minute breakfast was over ; besides, were not she and Mr. Trommel to mark out the garden to-day ? "Mary," said Mr. Maxwell, interrupting the brown study, "when are you and Trommel going to stake out that wonderful garden patch T " "My garden isn't a ' patch,'" objected Mary; "it 's going to be paths, and little flower-beds, and all inclosed." "Inclosed?" queried her father. "Yes ; Mr. Trommel said a wall would be nice, but that would take too long to make ; so we 're going 38 BEGINNING THE GAKDEN 39 to take some chicken-wire that he has at his house and inclose the garden that way. Mr. Trommel says," announced Mary, "that there are two things you ought to have in a garden : one is beauty, and the other is the other is " she stopped perplexed. "Vegetables?" suggested her father. "No; that was n't it. Oh, I know l seclusion ' j that 's what he said, and that 's what the chicken- wire is for." "That is its use in the chicken-runs," assented Mr. Maxwell ; "but the beauty is n't so prominent." "Oh, but it 's going to be all covered with vines and nasturtiums just you wait and see ! There is Mr. Trommel now, father ! " she cried suddenly, jumping up and running to the window. Sure enough, ther"e was the short, square figure of the old gardener. Not in the customary shirt- sleeves and apron by no means ! His coat was carefully buttoned in its Sunday fashion, and, dis- daining Mary's well-worn short cut, he was walking around the block to enter at the front gate. Mary ran to meet him. "Half of that space at the back of the yard will be enough for the child's garden, will it not, Herr 40 MABY'S GAKDEN AND HOW IT GREW Trommel?" asked Mary's father, as the three stood surveying the back yard. "Which side is the better?" "Um-m-m ! " said Mr. Trommel, reflectively. "She better have this corner. The tall fence will keep off the wind on the north, and the fence at the side will keep off the wind from the west. And if she have half, you say ? That will be about fifteen feet wide and twenty feet long ; that should be garden enough." "To here, then," said Mr. Maxwell, driving a stake at a safe distance from Norah's clothes-poles ; "that ought to be a large enough garden to keep you out of mischief, Mary, especially if you are in- closed in wire netting." "There 's going to be a gate, is n't there, Mr. Trommel ? " appealed Mary. "Certainly, there will be a fine little gate," affirmed he. "I suppose you '11 need some fertilizer here, Mr. Trommel?" said Mary's father. "I told John Quinlan to bring two wheelbarrowfuls. He is com- ing to do the digging. Will that be enough ? " "This soil is not so bad," said Mr. Trommel, poking it judicially with his stick j "two barrows BEGINNING THE GARDEN 41 full of good manure should give plenty for the little border-bed. An inch deep over the beds should be enough." "Quinlan will be here to do the work for you. Will you excuse me if I leave now, Mr. Trommel ? I shall have to run for my train." " Certainly, certainly," said Herr Trommel, making his precise little bow. "Now, little one," he said to the under-gardener, "we will to work." He took a two-foot rule from his pocket and measured along the back fence from the corner. "Twelve, fourteen, fifteen," he counted. "Hand me the stake there so," and he drove it in the ground. "Now hold you this end of string here at the stake while I draw it to the fence-corner to get the distance with the string so. Now" (he held it in one hand) "walk along to the Herr Papa's stake, so, and let us see if it is the fifteen feet. Good ! The Herr Papa did not make the bad guess. This is a lady's way of measuring, but it will do for us. Now we stretch the string between these stakes so." Mary was deeply interested. "Now we are going to mark out a flower-bed, are n't we t " she asked, when the garden inclosure was outlined with stick and string. 42 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW "Yes, yes; now we mark out the border." He scrutinized, the under-gardener a moment. "Two feet will be wide enough for you to reach, little one. Can you find another of the stakes I brought, and we will mark it for the good John." "Let me do it this time ! " coaxed the under- gardener. "Very well ; you shall drive the stakes, but we better let the old Peter measure so. Two feet from the side and two feet from the back. Now we will tie the string to one stake and pull it tight to the other, so that the good John" "Will trip?" suggested the under-gardener. "What fun ! " "No, no! What a thought for a good child to have! So that the good John will cut the turf straight." "Where do I be after puttin' the manure, sor?" called the big Irishman who was wheeling his bar- row toward the prospective garden. "He may put it in the papa's garden, you think? " asked Mr. Trommel of his assistant. "Oh, yes," said Mary. "Come, then, John, and see where you must dig," said Mr. Trommel, as the wheelbarrow was emptied BEGINNING THE GARDEN 43 across the line from Mary's garden. "I superintend for Mr. Maxwell the making of the little lady's garden. Do you see the lines made with the string?" "Whativer is it?" "It 's a garden," said Mary, in an aggrieved voice j "and it 's going to be beautiful it 's " "Never mind, little one," broke in Mr. Trommel. "You should dig, John, between those lines. Dig two feet deep, and throw up the earth as if you make a trench. We shall then throw the earth back again and mix in the manure well ; we shall then have the good soil." " Now look, little one," said Mr. Trommel, when a trench had been dug the length of the garden ; "see, now, how we fill the bed for the plants. We throw in some of the loose soil, then spread the manure ; then throw in more of the soil, and again a little manure." TORUS HtTAD 44 MAEY'S GAEDEN AND HOW IT GEEW "Just like layer-cake," remarked Mary. "Yes," assented Mr. Trommel j "like the layer- cakeonly different. We must not have the manure touch the roots j it is too rich. The little roots must have bread with their jam yes? "Now smooth it over with the rake, and to-morrow we shall plant." CHAPTER VII PLANTING SWEET PEAS [April] IT must be admitted that at this time the garden did not look very beautiful, except to the robins, who thought the earth had been freshly turned for their especial benefit. It was only an oblong inclo- sure, two sides bounded by the wire netting and two by the board fence. A. narrow border-bed two feet wide ran around the inside of the little plot. Mary, however, surveyed her small kingdom with the imaginative pride of the true gardener. "Now we are ready to plant, Mr. Trommel," she said, with a sigh of satisfaction; "the bed is all raked. I combed it and combed it, and the tangles are all out." The old gardener scrutinized the smooth earth critically. "There are little brown threads of roots 45 46 MARY'S GAKDEN AND HOW IT GKEW see, there and there," he said, pointing at the offenders. "Do those little things make any difference!" questioned Mary, incredulously. "Those little brown things will make trouble for the sweet peas just as soon as they can. They are roots of iniquity, Liebchen; we must not have them in our garden. It is easier to eradicate evil when it is little than when it grows big." "I think so,'.' agreed the under-gardener, dutifully, pulling out the small root-fibers. "Now we are ready ! " she said, with a breath of re- lief. "And we put them in deep. Deep as my finger?" "No, no ! We better make a trench. Can you make one with the little hoe ? " "I can make a beautiful one. Let >s have it here by the fence." "They better go by the wire, Liebchen. They like more air than they would get by the fence ; they have the little wings, you know. Besides, we did not make the ground there so rich as here ; that is for the nasturtiums. It is among the plants as among the pretty ladies : you can judge nothing of the appetite by the looks. Now, you would think that of the two the nasturtiums would like the most PLANTING SWEET PEAS 47 to eat, they run so fast and are so full of life and color. But no ! they will be happy on poor soil, sandy soil, with almost nothing to eat ; they do not mind much going thirsty. But the sweet peas, so dainty and delicate, they will yet eat all the food you can give them, and they drink, drink aber nothing but water, although they like the liquid manure." "They 've lots to eat here," said Mary, with satis- faction. "Now I 'm going to dig the trench. I think I '11 take my shovel," she decided, after con- sidering her implements with the care of a cautious golfer. "Shovels and trenches seem to go together, Mr. Trommel." "It is small," assented the old man; "it will not do much harm." "So far from the wire ? " questioned she, putting in the shovel about three inches from the wire. Mr. Trommel nodded. "Can you make it straight?" "I have a string," said the under-gardener, proudly, putting one hand in her apron pocket ; "I made that myself out of two clothes-pins, and it rolls up so. See," she said, holding up a clothes-pin and string arrangement. "Clothes-pins are very useful, Mr. Trommel." 48 MAEY'S GAEDEN AND HOW IT GEEW "That is a most interesting contrivance," said Herr Trommel. "Now, you hold this clothes-pin here," said the under-gardener, briskly, "while I walk toward the fence and unroll the string, just as if you were holding a kite for me to fly. 1 You can't stick the clothes- pin in first and then stretch the string, because it pulls out," she explained. The old gardener obediently did as he was bid -stooped down and held the clothes-pin until the string was pulled straight and the pin at the other end driven in and stamped upon. "I think he would go in easier if you should cut off one leg," suggested Mr. Trommel, looking reflec- tively at the clothes-pin in his hand. "Perhaps he would," said Mary, brightening. "Will you cut it off for me? I have only scissors." "You must make the trench deeper than that, little one j we must have it six inches. The seeds like to be in deep, where it is cool and moist. You know, we put the manure far down at the bottom PLANTING SWEET PEAS 49 when we dug the bed, so the roots when they are hungry will go down even farther to find something good." "Is that far enough apart*" Mr. Trommel looked down into the trench through his spectacles. "Two inches," he said; "that will do, but we shall have to thin them later. Thinning always seems a wicked thing ; it is like killing some of the children because there is not enough to eat for all, as the bad stepmother does in the fairy stories. Wait, wait ! " he exclaimed sud- denly, "not so deep. We do not want more than two inches over these little things." "I thought you said they must go -in deep," said Mary. "Yes, yes ; but the seedlings are little things and do not like to push their way up through quite such a heavy blanket. When the seedlings are up, then we push the soil around and cover them up to their necks." "But you said, when we were potting in the winter, that we must n't cover the little plants with earth only just as deep as they were before, or else they could n't breathe," objected his listener. "Yes, yes ! " said Herr Trommel, impatiently. "I 'THE OLD GARDENER OBEDIENTLY DID AS HE WAS BID PLANTING SWEET PEAS 51 I tell you, little one, plants are much alike, but often they are different." The under-gardener looked a trifle perplexed. "Gardening takes quite a little experience," she sighed, as she covered the seeds carefully and left an embankment of earth beside the trench. "Now we water them just like we do the other things, don't we?" "We have to water them well ; they are thirsty, these little fellows." "How long will it be before they come up?" "I think they will make haste for us ; they are late this year, you know, and they have some time to make up. Sometimes I have put them in the ground three weeks earlier, but this year the old Mother Earth slept late, and did not unlock her house at the right time, so the plants could not come out. My dear magnolia blossoms have not yet dared to thrust their noses out of the little fur hoods. You will see soon how all the shrubs must hurry." "Is n't there anything else we can plant?" asked Mary, raking the bed by the fence. Herr Trommel meditated a moment. "We might put in the poppies," he said doubtfully ; "they do not mind the cold. Have you the seeds here ? " 52 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW But the under-gardener was already running to- ward the house. Mr. Trommel was still looking meditatively at the sweet-pea trench and then at the fence when Mary came back, packet in hand. "Wait, wait," he said, as she began to tear off the end of the packet. "Let us first see where we shall put them. We shall have nasturtiums along the back of the fence j yes, and the sweet peas we have along the wire ; we must put something in between to keep the peace, Liebchen." "Why, what would they do to each other?" asked Mary, fixing a pair of surprised brown eyes on the old man's face. "Well," replied Herr Trommel, "it is not that the flowers themselves have any quarrel with each other ; it is only a matter of clothes, Liebchen, but sometimes that is serious. These sweet peas are the dainty pink and white ; they do not like to be so near the bright scarlet of the nasturtiums. Perhaps we might put some of these morning-glories in between, eh? It is yet too early for those, but the border is narrow you can easily reach past. We might plant the poppies in front. They are mixed," said Herr Trommel, sadly j "we cannot help the colors." PLANTING SWEET PEAS 53 "Don't you like seeds mixed?" asked Mary, anx- iously. "When you get a mixed packet you get so many kinds for five cents." The old man shook his head. "I like to know what I am planting. If I ask some children to spend the summer with me, I like to know whom I have ; I do not want them 'mixed,' even from the same family. I had rather have mine under-gardener, for instance, than the cousin who comes sometimes what is his name ? " "Kenneth?" asked Mary. Mr. Trommel nodded vigorously. "Oh, Kenneth is nice ! He knows how to do lots of things. He made a spring-board the last time he was here just dug a hole and put one end of the board under the fence, and then put a hassock under it to make the spring, and" "Yes, yes ! " broke in Mr. Trommel ; "he used my garden-sticks for fencing." "He is coming to my house as soon as school is over ; he is making a garden, too." "Yes ? " said Herr Trommel, without interest. "He may grow to be a fine young man, but I would rather not have him in my garden. Come, let us plant the poppies." 51 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW "Are n't they little ! " said Mary, in surprise. "Very little ; we have to mix them with some sand to give them something to hold, so that they will not blow away." " I could mix them in a candy-box, could n't It" "That will be large enough ; we put twice as much sand as we have seeds." "The poppies would be lost in a trench, I think," volunteered Mary. "I fear if we put them in a trench we should never see the pretty poppies. Just sprinkle them lightly over the ground so." "Don't you put anything over them? Just pat them down t " "Just pat them down and sprinkle them a lit- tle, that is all. These poppies are like Eskimo babies : they do not mind the cold. Ha ! " he said, suddenly straightening himself, "old Peter has other things to do ! I set out some roses to-morrow, little one," he said, as he turned to go ; "I have some from across the sea, from France ; you wish to see how we doit?" "Oh, yes ! " she said, stopping a moment from pat- ting the poppy seeds. "I shall be at them in the afternoon. Be sure PLANTING SWEET PEAS 55 you put the tools away, little one ; it will rain to- night, I think." "I always put them away, Mr. Trommel," said the under-gardener, with dignity. CHAPTER VIII MAKING A ROSE GARDEN [April] ELLO, little one! Come over to work with old Peter?" Mary nodded vigorously, pulled off her hat, and then pushed off the rubbers with dexterous toes. "I was almost afraid it would n't be possible. Oh, are those the roses ? " she asked in a disappointed voice, catching sight of the unpromising-looking heap, and then turning to look at a brown branch with roots a-dangle which Mr. Trommel held in his hand. "I 've seen lots prettier ones in the florists', and they were all in bloom." The old gardener looked lovingly down at the brown branch. "The dear lady ! " he said caress- ingly, as if the rose had been insulted. He looked over the branch for a few moments in 56 MAKING A KOSE GARDEN 57 silence. Then he spoke : "You are not a gardener yet, Liebchen, and you are an American. People who are not gardeners and are Americans must always be buying roses when they are in bloom, and shrubs when they are in leaf, and set out trees as big as they can. Everything they must see, and then have at once. "This rose here is asleep yet. She is Catherine Mer- met, an old kind, but lovely ! She was dug last fall, and has been lying asleep all winter ; in June she will be ready to flower." "Won't you hurt her?" asked Mary, in alarm ; for Mr. Trommel was cutting the branches and leaving but one shoot, and that he cut until it was not more than six inches long. He shook his head. "No. You see, I cut her back so ; she can then be quiet and have little to do \ DORMANT ROSE BEFORE PRUNING 58 MARY'S GAKDEN AND HOW IT GKEW until she is used to the new place. I cut off the roots a little also. Now, when the sun and the rain waken her, she will feel like a new plant and much younger ; she will send down the new little roots, and on top the strong new shoots will come up, and in June there will be roses for us "Better than if it were blooming now?" questioned the under-gardener. "Better than if it were at work now," answered Herr Trommel ; "besides, she will be a stronger plant. "When we prune roses we cut out all the wood that looks a bit weak see?" he said, taking up an- other rose root. "That little branch comes off; it is too weak. I leave but these two; they are fine, strong shoots ; but I cut them back so." "Let me do one," begged Mary. Herr Trommel demurred. "If it were anything but a rose," he said. "Wait until you are bigger, Liebchen. Did you see the fine bed I have made for them?" he added, changing the subject hastily. "The square place on the other side of the path?" "Yes, yes, that is it. I have there three feet of good soil, with a layer of broken stone underneath for drainage, they do not like wet feet, and the most beautiful manure for them ! I often think MAKING A EOSE GARDEN 59 when I make up the beds for my roses that Job made a great mistake. Yes. When he found it necessary to sit on the dung-heap, he should first have put some earth over it and then planted roses on top. It would have been good for the roses ; it would also have made it much pleasanter for Job. Yes. "The roses, little one, are very dainty and delicate- looking, but, like the' sweet peas, you can hardly give them too much to eat. They like good food, and ^plenty of it. It is only in the stories that the lady looks very lovely and eats nothing ; we gardeners know better, and I*think she in the story went down the back stairs and found something to eat some wurst or frankfurters when the man who told the story knew nothing about it. " You see, Liebchen, the rose has been for years the fine lady of the garden j the what do you say ? the society lady yes ! She is also what they call exclu- sive : she likes but to live with herself and other roses. Then, she must have very rich food yes, and a great many baths ; and she must have her beauty-sleep so we cut back the branches, as you see ; and she does not wish too many children to take care of, so we take off many of the buds. She does not use the the cos- metics, but she has her little toilet preparations." 60 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW "What ! " exclaimed Mary, incredulously. "Do roses have tooth-powder and cologne and and curl- ing-tongs, and those things ? " "Not exactly," admitted Mr. Trommel. "They have kerosene spray, and whale-oil emulsion, and Bordeaux mixture, instead of cologne; powder they use, too sometimes powdered sulphur put on the under side of the leaves where it will not show j and when they begin to bloom they also like some liquid manure as a tonic. "lAebchen, plants are like people : when they be- come very highly cultivated the liebe Gott does much, but the gardener he also does somewhat. There ! " he said, ending his lecture suddenly, "the roses are now ready." "I 'm going to plant some of them for you," said the under-gardener coaxingly, as she followed him along the little path to the rose -bed. "Well," said Herr Trommel, hesitating, "you will be very careful ? " "Oh, very careful," repeated Mary, with assuring emphasis. "Well, then, we put the first one in here j this is Prince Camille de Rohan," he said, handing one of the plants to his assistant. "He has pretty flowers, MAKING A KOSE GAKDEN 61 but his habits are not very good. It is not often he grows to be a fine plant." The under-gardener was already down on her knees at the edge of the bed. "Make the hole here ?" she inquired, thrusting in the trowel, and then shaking back her curls to look at the old man. He nodded approvingly. "Very deep, so the roots will have plenty of room," explained Mary, as if she were conducting a field class, while working industriously with the trowel, "and spread the roots out just the way they were before, very carefully, because he is asleep ; and you hold him with your left hand, so, and push the dirt in with the other, just as if you were potting a little bit of a plant " "Wait, wait, let us see," said Herr Trommel, sud- denly interrupting the discourse. "Have you him deep enough so that the earth will come over the graft? Yes? That is right," he said, peering into the hole. "If we have not that little knob covered up he will 'sucker,' and that is a bad thing for the graft to do." "What is 'sucker'?" asked the assistant. "You remember what I told you when we were grafting? " 62 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW "About the papa and the baby he had to take care of Oh, yes, I remember." "Well, look now, here, above the little knob. That is the graft, the Prince Camille. Below the knob, the roots and this bit of stem see f This is the stock, the papa ; he is Manetti. But some- - times he forgets he has the child to care for : he thinks he would like to be pretty himself, so he uses up some of the baby's food and he sends up a shoot from here, see, below the graft. Then we call it a bad name and say it is a sucker, and cut it off 5 if we did not, the graft, the baby, would have but little to eat, for the stock is stronger. That is why we put the graft down in the ground two or three inches below the surface ; the papa cannot then breathe, so he cannot well send up ROSE AFTER PRUNING, SET IN THE GROUND THREE INCHES BELOW THE GRAFT MAKING A ROSE GARDEN 63 shoots. He does not need to breathe ; he must just work and find food for the baby ; he is a common fellow, and it is all he is good for ! " "I understand. Now we put water in the hole," announced Mary, resuming her field lecture, "and that settles and washes the soil down about the roots without bothering them ; and now we fill up with dirt and push it down, just as if we were pot- ting a little plant and now it's all done ! I 'm sure the prince did n't wake up, Mr. Trommel," she said earnestly. "I am sure he did not, Liebchen; I did not hear him make a sound. Now I put the next one in see, I put him about three feet away. They do not like to be too close, these aristocrats ; they do not like crowding. No." "Why could n't we plant the little seedlings from the boxes in my garden? They wouldn't mind the cold any more than the roses, would they ? " "Ah, but you see they are very little, very tender, the seedling plants. They are but babies ; you must treat babies differently from big people : they must be kept warmer. Prince Camille, here, is two years old ; he is a young fellow able to go by himself. He is asleep now, too; he will not mind trans- 64 MAEY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW planting. But I could not now set out a rose cutting, a baby from the greenhouse it would die. I must wait until the fine weather, when all the babies can be out. "First we plant the shrubs and trees they are yet asleep ; we must plant them soon, because they are soon awake then they do not like it. Then, also, if we must, we plant the perennials, phloxes and hollyhocks and such things, though it is better to plant them in the fall. Next we plant the seeds in the ground out of doors ; they are asleep, too, and will not wake for a little while. Then, too, we plant the evergreens, for they do not wake so early ; they do not make the changes in their dress in the spring, and so the Mother Earth lets them sleep later. And last we set out the seedlings from the boxes, the little babies that are already awake and growing. They are spoilt children : they have been brought up in the greenhouse with everything just as they like it, so if we put them out too early they find the out-of- doors cold and hard ; they shiver and wish they were back in the house. When we grow the seedlings in a cold frame, out of doors, or where there is not the extra heat, then we can put them out earlier ; they are not such sensitive little things." MAKING A KOSE GARDEN 65 "I understand/' said the under-gardener. "Do you?" demanded Mr. Trommel, fixing his spectacles on the assistant's face. "Then what did I say ? " "You said we move the shrubs first, because they live outdoors all winter and don't mind the cold, but we have to hurry and move them while they are asleep ; and we move the pre-ennials, for they are asleep too, but we ought n't to move them until fall ; and next come the seeds, and then last the babies from the greenhouse, and we have to wait until it is very comfortable for them, and if things wake up very early we have to plant them the night before that is, in the fall." "That is not at all bad," said Mr. Trommel, beam- ing approvingly on his assistant ; "you will make a fine gardener some day." "I hope so," said Mary, earnestly. CHAPTER IX WAITING FOR THE SWEET PEAS [April] HEN Mary pushed open the gate, Herr Peter Trommel was sitting on the step of his green- house, smoking his pipe as peacefully as if it were not Saturday morning, the busiest of the week. "Ah, a fine day, little one," said he, lifting the pipe from his mouth and puffing out a cloud of smoke, "and how does the planting?" The small gardener's sleeves were rolled up ; she had evidently been already at work. "I came over for some advice, Mr. Trommel. The sweet peas are n't up yet. Do you think they are all right ? Ought n't we to look at them ? " she added anxiously. The old gardener laughed. "When did we plant them?" "Almost a week ago," said Mary, reproachfully. 66 WAITING FOR THE SWEET PEAS 67 "Oh, the little ladies are but scarcely awake yet ; they are just thinking about stretching their feet down and stretching their arms up toward the light ; wait a bit and you shall see the pretty green leaves." "Are n't you planting anything to-day?" she asked. "Well," said Herr Trommel, reflectively, "my roses they have a smoke this morning, so I thought old Peter better have one also." "Your roses ! " echoed she. "Do they have tobacco too?" "They like it sometimes. Look and see," he an- swered, with a wave of his pipe toward the green- house. The under-gardener stepped past him and opened the door, but in a moment came back, coughing and sputtering : "Oh, Mr. Trommel, it's awful ! Do the roses like that stuff? " "It is not very good tobacco," he admitted, "but the roses do not mind. They use it only as a a cosmetic ; it kills the green fly that troubles them. I have but half a pound in a little pile burning on the floor." "Flowers have queer medicines, haven't they?" said Mary, reflectively. 68 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW Herr Trommel nodded and puffed out a cloud of smoke. "And you are sure the sweet peas are all right!" she began again, reverting to the object of her visit. "Don't they ever make a mistake? How do the roots know to go down to find something to eat when the leaves go up? " "You must ask lieber Gott that question, little one. The roots are wonderful things : they are like little mouths, like fine little sponges, and yet they know how to take just what they need from the soil. How does the poppy, just by eating the brown earth and drinking and breathing, change from the tiny seed into the flower with the wonderful color? Those are things we must ask lieber Gott. If we put the seed in upside down, so that the roots come out of the little case on top, so soon as they are out of the shell, they know to turn and go down ; and the leaves, if they came out below, they would know to turn and go -up to find the light. When the Hebe Gott shuts up all the flower in the tiny seed, he shuts up with it also a great deal of wisdom." The under-gardener was listening intently. "Can plants think, like you and me?" she asked, with wide-open, astonished eyes. WAITING FOR THE SWEET PEAS 69 "Sometimes, it seems, they think better," said he. "If you were all alone and very hungry, would you know that some one had left a basket with lunch away off at the corner of the street, behind the fence, where you could not see it ? Would you know to go straight to it with your eyes shut ? If you were very thirsty, would you know that the brook at the foot of the hill was dry, but that there was water in the well yonder? No ; you would have to go look. But a tree would know ; a bee would know also. That is what we call instinct. When these trees or flowers or insects do something we cannot do and cannot understand, we call it instinct. "I/iebchen, the more you live with plants, the more you have not only the love for the dear people but the great respect for their understanding." "Then I won't look for the sweet peas till the leaves peek out," said the under-gardener, in an awed tone. "I think the little ladies like it better if we do not disturb them until they are dressed and ready to come out." He rose from his seat and went into the greenhouse. "I give my roses a little air," he said ; "they have now enough tobacco. 70 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW "Come and see what I have for you in my border " ; and he resumed his pipe as they walked along the narrow grass path. He stopped at a clump that looked to Mary very much like dead grass. "You must have some of this," he said. "Eh? You do not think it looks very pretty?" he asked, smiling at the little girl's disappointed face. "These are the old grass- pinks, little one." f d-I 'd feel a little safer. Are n't you tired!" added the under-gardener, solicitously. Herr Trommel was busily at work with shears in one of his borders. He was clipping the lower leaves from hollyhocks that were beginning to shade some little seedlings, but he straightened himself and laughed. "You think the little asters feel better if I what you call it chaperon a little?" "Yes, that 's it," said Mary ; "but what are you doing to the hollyhocks t " 10 145 146 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW "I am not hurting them, Liebchen. I just cut off a few of these great leaves at the bottom j I do not like to do it, but they shade my little things here in front of them. Besides, it will not show ; they will not feel bare or unclad." He bent again to his work. "In five ten min- utes I shall come. The lady mother will not mind that I bring my pipe ? No ? It is good for a garden to have a pipe smoked in it." "Everything will be ready," declared Mary, "and then you '11 just just watch." "The garden looks very fine ! " remarked Mr. Trommel, as he came through the gate, which was none too wide to admit him. "The larkspur will bloom for you soon just one or two spikes ; next year you will have plenty. The young ones are growing well." "See ! " said Mary, showing him the seed-bed in the corner. "Look at the little larkspurs and holly- hocks they are coming up ; and then in the fall we move them to where they are to grow, don't we ? " "Yes," said Herr Trommel ; then he stooped under the doorway of the little arbor. "Now, Liebchen, I shall sit here and smoke my SETTING OUT SEEDLINGS 147 * pipe and admire the sweet peas and the poppies that are coming on so finely. You have a good day for transplanting. It is cloudy and somewhat damp. The little plants will like it. You shall set them out, and I shall not look until they are all in the ground, and then I shall come and admire. That is what you wish, is it not? " "Ye-es," assented the young gardener, doubtfully, as she sat down on the grass at the edge of the flower- bed beside the flat of young asters. "It 's easy enough after the first plant 's out, but it seems quite hard to take the first plant out without hurting anything," she observed after a moment's silence. "A trowel 's too big to put in the box ; there is n't any tool just just suitable." "There is a flat pot-label in my pocket," remarked Herr Trommel to the sweet peas ; "I have known it to be convenient." "I think I will try a pot-label, if you have it with you," said Mary. "Could n't you poke it through the lattice ? " This implement seemed to be successful, and there was silence for a few minutes. "You make the hole deeper than the roots are long," remarked the under-gardener, after Mr. Trommel's fashion ; "that 148 MAEY'S GAKDEN AND HOW IT GKEW is so the roots will not have to double up their feet. And and then you put the earth around it carefully, so not to hurt them. And then you press it down, and the little aster must be in just as deep as he was before, or a very little deeper. Now I 'm going to make another hole about about four inches " There was a cough from Mr. Trommel which in- terrupted the soliloquy. "Perhaps six inches would be better," amended she ; "it is better to give too much room than too little." "Oh, Mr. Trommel, do look and see if these are all right ; you must n't tell me how, but just look ! " "The little plants are set out well," said Herr Trommel. "They are straight, they are well apart. Now, if you but wet them thoroughly they will be quite happy." I CHAPTER XVIII MARY IN MR. TROMMEL'S GARDEN [June] JUST love your garden, Mr. Trommel ! " declared Mary, enthusiastically, her brown head bent over the dainty columbines. "I think it 's nicer than any- body else's garden. Somehow the flowers seem more friendly here, as if they liked to have you come and see them." "Perhaps they know we love them, little one. See those tulips and narcissi there at the edge of the bor- der, by the shrubs ? They were done blooming long ago, but this is their home. They know I will not disturb them nor trouble them, or put others in their place. They know I love them all the year round, even when they are curled up in the brown bulb, sound asleep." "The columbines are n't asleep. Just see how they 149 150 MAEY'S GAEDEN AND HOW IT GEEW are dancing. But they will have to go away soon. They are beginning to fade now. Perhaps that is why they are dancing so hard like Cinderella jus*t before the clock struck twelve." She passed down the path and stopped by the larkspurs. "He 's splen- did, is n't he ? " said she, pointing to the big spike which reached almost past her shoulder, "and the only one out. I know what he says, Mr. Trommel." "Yes? And what does he say, Liebchen f " "He says, 'Oh, come on, you slow-pokes! Look at me ! I 'm out. And it 's beautiful, beautiful ! I can see all over the garden. You '11 miss the little columbines if you wait any longer ! ' That 's what he says," she ended, with a little laugh. "Now I 'm going to see how big your sweet peas are, Mr. Trom- mel. Mine are almost up to the bottom of my dress." The old man watched affectionately the little gar- dener's figure as it passed between the two old apple- trees to the open space at the foot of the yard ; then he left staking his pyrethrums and followed. "They look beautiful," she said, turning to face him as he stood beside her. "They are 'most as big as mine. Won't they blossom soon?" "Let us see," said Herr Trommel, reflectively, tak- ing off his cap and passing his hand thoughtfully over MARY IN ME. TROMMEL'S GARDEN 151 his bald spot. "This is now the 6th. They should begin to bloom, perhaps, the end of the month. "The roses," he mused, "ah, they are the loveliest, I know, but sometimes I think the sweet peas are the dearest. Already you see how the fine little tendrils hold the wire. At the end of the month they will be holding tight, tighter than ever, for the blossoms have then their wings. So the pea-vine holds tight with the little green fingers when the bees come and talk to the pretty flowers and tell them how nice it is to go visiting. I think she is afraid the pretty children will fly off." The under-gardener was listen- ing intently. "Did you ever see a sweet pea run off with a bee, Mr. Trommel?" "No," he admitted; "but you know my eyes are old. Besides, I have spectacles in front of them. When you come to wearing spectacles, lAebchen, you sometimes cannot see the things that you could with- out." "Then perhaps if I watch," said the assistant, with 152 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW wide brown eyes fixed on the old man's face "but I think a sweet pea would rather fly off with one of those little white butterflies than a bee ; they look more as if they belonged together more suitable." "Perhaps," said Mr. Trommel ; "you see many won- derful things if you watch for them. Shall I tell you another thing?" "Oh, yes ! " said the under-gardener. "Well, then, look out for the bees. They are not so good as some people think they are. I have caught them stealing." "Stealing ! " echoed his listener, in an awed whisper. "Stealing ! " repeated Herr Trommel, firmly. "Why, I thought they were very good, and worked very hard, and were very, very industrious." "The bees they are tramps," said Herr Trommel. "They go to a flower for honey, and the flower does as all good people do with a tramp : it says, 'Yes, I will give you something to eat, but you must work for it.' So the bee has his honey. Then he carries away a load of pollen- dust for the flower, and takes it for her to another flower that is, when the bee does as he should." "But when does he steal?" asked the brown eyes. "That I will show you. Come with me over to the HERE is A BIG FELLOW COME TO STEAL. WATCH HIM !' ' 154 MAEY'S GAEDEN AND HOW IT GEEW rhododendron here, and you shall see some of his badness. Do you see the brown spot there at the base of the flower, on the outside, just where the sweet is t " Mary nodded. "Yes ; that is where the bee has broken in and taken his breakfast without paying for it. He should have, gone in at the front door instead of breaking into the pretty house like that. Ha ! Here is a big fellow come to steal now. Watch him ! See, he does not even try to go inside." Sure enough, the bee was buzzing contentedly at the base of the flower in his most businesslike man- ner. In a moment he went singing away, leaving a small hole the mark of his misdeeds behind him. k "You see," said Herr Trommel, severely, "if he could not get inside, he should know that the sweet was not for him ; the flower was perhaps saving it for some pretty moth. What he could not get in the right way he took in the wrong way. No, they are not so good, those bees. They buzz, buzz, to make you think they are working very hard ; but they are gossips and matchmakers and busybodies, and it is all getting, getting, and more than they need. I think the liebe Gott likes the flowers just as well. MAKY IN MR. TEOMMEL'S GARDEN 155 They do not talk about what they are doing. They just grow and are lovely, as the liebe Gott meant they should be. "Did you ever see a bee who has eaten more sweet than is good for him ? No ? I have seen him on a thistle-top when he has made himself so sick he could not stand yes!" "But if he did not feel well, that was a lovely j>lace for him to go and lie down/' said the under-gardener. CHAPTER XIX TRANSACTIONS OF THE HORTICULTURAL CLUB [June] ONE after another, the members of the Horticul- tural Club climbed the ladder and came through the trap-door to the room of the Juvenile Bug Asso- ciation, for it was almost time for the third meeting of the club. "We must have a chairman," said Margaret Dick- son, who was very businesslike. "You have to nomi- nate some one and then second him." "I don't like that way, Margaret," objected Mary. "All that seconding and moving takes lots of time let 's count out ! You can count out, Eleanor." Thte Horticultural Club obediently ranged them- selves in a circle. Eleanor began at once : " 'Eeny, meeny, miny, mo. Catch a nigger by his toe ; If he hollers, let him go ! Eeny, meeny, miny, mo ! ' 156 THE HORTICULTURAL CLUB 157 You 're out, Buddy ! 'Eeny, meeny, miny, mo' " she began again, when Buddy had withdrawn from the possibility of chairmanship. By this method of selection the honor fell to Mar- garet. With an air of importance, she went at once to the seat by the table, and pounded with vigor to call the meeting to order. "There are three papers for the club to hear," she announced. "Mr. Randolph Hadley will read his first." "It's ladies first," said Randolph Findlayson, gal- lantly. "It 's age first," said Eleanor, wriggling in her chair in momentary embarrassment. "Then it's Mildred," said Donald Patterson, "be- cause she 's age and ladies both." "Be quiet, children!" said the chair, sternly. "The chairman is like the teacher when you play school, and I'm Miss Bronson. Now, Randolph," she said sweetly, "we are ready to hear your paper." Finnan Haddie rose at once. And the club listened to the following essay : 158 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW "TOADS "A toad is a very useful animal to have in a garden. A toad is a quadruped, because it has four legs, but it sits chiefly on its hind ones. "A toad is a familiar object, although many times you do not see him when he is there. This is because he looks so much like the mud or the ground ^^ that you do not notice him. Toads are very ^* useful in gardens, because they catch and eat insects which are difficult for us to catch. They also do not have anything else to do, so they can spend all their time in this useful occupation. "Toads are better than anything else for catching slugs. A slug is like a snail when its shell has been smashed off. Slugs leave a trail of wet behind them, and they eat up sweet peas and every- thing else in the garden ; but the 'toads eat them up. "It is very interesting to see a toad catch flies. He sits perfectly still, as if he were a stone ; then, when he sees a fly or an insect, his chest puffs in and out, as if he were fanning him- self inside. Then he keeps perfectly still, so that the THE HORTICULTURAL CLUB 159 fly will think he is a chunk of mud, but when it is near enough he snaps it. You would not think he could make such a quick jump for it, but he does. I have eight toads in my garden, and have not been bothered much yet with slugs. People say that toads make warts on your hands. They have n't made any warts yet on my hands, but anyway I would rather have warts on my hands than bugs on my flowers." "I think toads are nasty things," objected Elea- nor. "Eleanor," said Mary, "that is only a a prejudice. Toads are very useful." "You 're wrong about one thing, Finnan Haddie," said Buddy Thomas. "A toad does n't jump. I 've watched them lots of times. It just shoots out its tongue so quickly that you can scarcely see it, and it has something sweet and sticky on the end of its tongue that catches the fly, like sticky fly-paper. That 's the way he catches them." "But I never saw any slugs ! " objected Eleanor. "Of course you have n't seen them, unless you were up very early," replied the essayist. "They come out at night." "That 's ' because their deeds are evil,' " remarked 160 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW the under-gardener. "But I 've seen slugs in the daytime, Finnan Haddie. Once I lifted a board, and there were lots of_them under it wet, nasty-looking things. Mr. Trommel says that if you make a little circle of lime around the plants, a little way from the stem, it must n't touch that, the slugs can't cross it." The chairman pounded on the table. "Children ! " she said sternly, "this is not the time for talking. Discussion comes afterward. Eleanor will read us her paper. Stand over here, my dear, and be care- ful to read slowly." Eleanor gave two or three little giggles of embar- rassment, and then began : "THINNING SEEDLINGS "Thinning seedlings is a process which seems sad, but it is necessary. It is sad because so many of them die. They most often die when they are the kinds which do not like to be transplanted. We have to thin plants, because if we don't do it, the little plants are too crowded, and then none of them are any good. Mr. Trommel says they get to quarreling for their bread and butter, so we must separate them. THE HOKTICULTUKAL CLUB 161 "When you start seeds in boxes it is only a little while before your trouble begins. As soon as two or three leaves have formed you have to begin to thin them. You take out the little plants in between until those that are left are two or three inches apart. This is when they are growing in the house. When they are growing outdoors you do likewise. "Then you think you are done thinning, but you are not ; you have to do it again. Pretty soon the leaves are near each other and the little plants grow bigger. Then you take out the ones between until they are six inches from each other, or, if they are in flats, you have to pot them. -You can plant them out of doors if it is warm enough. "A nice way to move seedlings, when they are out of doors, is to take a tin box. The kind that saltines come in is very nice for this. Then you put a little water in it, and then, just as fast as you take the seedlings out, you put them in the box with the roots down and the heads up. Then the roots don't get dry and the little plants are moved very com- fortably. "You must take hold of a seedling just where the roots begin. If you take them up by the top, some- times the stem breaks and then it becomes dead." 162 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW "That was a very instructive paper, Eleanor," re- marked the president. "I know a way to transplant things when you have n't any tin box, and you have to bring them a long way, too," said Mildred. "I 've brought home jack-in-the-pulpits and violets, and they did n't die, either ! " "I brought home some, too," asserted Margaret "but mine died," she added, after a moment's hesita- tion. "You have to dig them up carefully, of course," explained Mildred, "and you must n't pull. If you have a knife along it 's easy. I always have a knife and a piece of string in my pocket. "Then you find a piece of moss and put it around the roots, and then soak it." "The dirt inside?" asked Buddy. "Of course," said Mary. "It 's like Hiawatha's mittens he put the skin side inside and put the fur side outside. The mossy side is the fur side." "And then you tie it. If you can't get moss, take mud and make a ball with the roots inside " "I know that way," said Margaret. "It 's in the 'Girls' Handy Book.' " Mildred took no notice of the interruption. THE HORTICULTURAL CLUB 163 "Then you put them in your hat and bring them home." "Does n't your hat get all dirty?" asked Eleanor. "It 's 'most always an old hat, but you can put leaves inside if you 're afraid j and if you cross the elastic and put it underneath the crown, it holds lots ! " "It 's time for the meeting to go home," said Margaret, impatiently. "A meeting does n't go home," said Donald j "it adjourns. Some one has to move " "But are n't there any any refreshments? " asked Buddy Thomas, disconsolately. "It says in the by- laws " "We have beautiful refreshments to-day," an- nounced the chairman. "Oh, Margaret, are the cherries ripe?" cried Donald. "Oh, Ma-ar-g'ret, why did n't you say so before? And we 've been up here all this time ! " said Eleanor, in an injured tone. But the chairman did n't hear, for the Horticul- tural Club was going down the ladder as fast as possible. CHAPTER XX THE POPPIES [June] come over and see my poppies, Mr. Trom- el!" begged the under-gardener. "There was n't one bud open yesterday ! They were bent over, hanging their heads down. And this morning there are one, two, three, four poppies oh, they are lovely ! Pink, with a little white edge, and red ; there ? s a red one that is stunning!" she said im- pressively. Herr Trommel was on his hands and knees, de- votedly weeding his border. "Eh?" he said. "The poppies have come out? Then we must go and look at the pretty ones." He stood up. "But I knew last evening there would be a sur- prise for you to-day," he said as they walked along the path to the gate. 164 THE POPPIES 165 "How did you know?" asked Mary, surprised. "Urn well, the poppy buds looked as if they were thinking of coming out ; the little heads were begin- ning to straighten upright. The poppy does not hang her head when she blossoms. No, no ! " "There ! " exclaimed Mary, as they stood in front of the dainty poppies that were swaying on slender stems. Herr Trommel looked down on them in silence for a moment. "They are lovely," he said reverently ; "they are fairy things ; they are color made alive ! " "Were the petals all inside of those green buds? " asked the under-gardener. Herr Trommel nodded. "The poppy is not at all careful of her clothes, although she has such pretty ones. The roses curl their petals very carefully, but the poppy's petals are just crushed tight together inside the hard green bud. She is not afraid of wrinkles no. If you are out very early, Liebchen, you might see the poppy open ; but you must have the sharp eyes. You see the bud ; then, if you look away but a moment, there is the flower ! The green case the calyx has split and dropped to the ground, and the petals that were crushed so tight are lovely, as you see them now. It is a wonderful thing." 166 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW "Poppies don't look a bit sleepy, do they* But is n't there something in them that makes people sleep? It seems to me" said the under-gardener, wrinkling her forehead reflectively. "They make something from the poppy seeds that brings sleep," said Herr Trommel. "Where do the poppies get it from? " asked Mary. "Where do they get it from?" repeated Mr. Trommel. "Ah, I tell you ! What was the fine young lady that slept so long? " "Rip Van Winkle slept a long time, but he was n't a young lady. Oh, Brunhild? Was it Brunhild? " "No, not Brunhild ; it was a relative of hers." "Sleeping Beauty?" "Yes, that is the one where everything stopped at once, and all the palace went to sleep." "And the hedge grew up so thick that the prince could hardly get through ! " said Mary. "Yes ; well, there were poppies growing in the garden there. You know how light and little a poppy seed is, how easy for it to be carried by the air?" "Oh, yes! Little tiny things. We had to mix them with sand, you know, so they would n't get lost." "Yes ; well, just as the young lady fell asleep, and THE POPPIES 167 the sleep charm passed over the palace and over the garden like a breath of wind, a tiny poppy seed was in the air, and when it dropped, it dropped not in the garden, but over the wall and away. But the little seed had heard the charm, and when it grew up to be a poppy it whispered it over and over to the little seeds until they learned it. That is how the poppy seeds know the sleep charm. But not all the poppies know it, for although they grew in the garden there, it was only the little seed that dropped over the wall that remembered it. The flowers in the garden, you know, were all put to sleep." "Did n't they remember it when they woke up?" Herr Trommel shook his head. "They were very sorry, but they knew nothing of what had happened ; no more than the Van Winkle you spoke of." The under-gardener was silent a moment. "Do toads and other things that sleep all winter eat the poppy seeds to make them go to sleep I " "No," said Herr Trommel, "I think not. You know they might not be able to find them when they wanted to go to sleep. But animals and insects and plants, Liebchen, are sensible folk and can always go to sleep when it is the right time. It is only men who have forgotten how and must get the pop- 168 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW pies to help them. Yet I have seen a bee take a piece of a poppy's petal to line her baby's room perhaps that the little one should sleep very sound. Monsieur Karr has seen this also." "Mr. Karr?" repeated Mary, puzzled. "Yes, Monsieur Alphonse Karr. The gentleman who spent a year in making the tour about his garden." "How did it take him so long?" "Urn well, I have been fifteen years in my garden, and yet I have not seen it all." "I should think," said Mary, doubtfully, "that a poppy petal would be rather large for a bee to carry; you know, birds can take only a little piece of grass or other things. Besides, I thought bees lived in a hive and mad^ cells out of wax," she ob- jected. "Um yes. But there are other kinds of bees. This bee I tell you of makes a little chamber in the ground ; and after it is nicely hollowed in the ground, it is not quite to her THE POPPIES 169 taste, those earth walls. You have seen the little round pieces cut from rose-leaves? Yes? Well, sometimes the bee, as I said, cuts pieces out of the poppy petals and covers the walls with the fine crimson. Also she mixes together a little honey and pollen dust from the flowers and makes a little pile of the bee-bread in the pretty chamber. That is for the little fellow to eat before he is become a bee. Then she hangs a little curtain and makes ready the place for another egg." "Perhaps the bee puts the poppy petals and the pollen inside so the baby will know what to do for a living when he comes out a bee," suggested Mary, "so he will know the flowers and the pollen when he sees them." "Perhaps," admitted Mr. Trommel j "but insects do not have to teach their children anything. They know everything they need to know as soon as they are insects." "That must be very very convenient," sighed the under-gardener. V CHAPTER XXI THE CLUB IN MARY'S GARDEN [July] OU are sure you can't come to the meeting? Are n't you well, Mr. Trommel?" asked Mary, anxiously. "You know it 's going to be in my garden." "Um yes, I am quite well, Liebchen, but I fear I catch too much enthusiasm and activity from a meet- ing of your society j it would not be safe at my age. No. It is much better that you come over and tell me about it. Thus I get the benefit of the society without that I have so much excitement. "You have the little garden looking fine now. It is well to have the young horticulturists see it." "I weeded out every little weed this morning, so they would n't see one. I 'm president of the club, you know." 170 THE CLUB IN MAEY'S GAEDEN 171 "It is a great responsibility," said Herr Trommel, sympathetically. The under-gardener nodded. "I always think of it in church when they say, 'Bless thy servant the President of the United States, amd all others in authority.' " Mr. Trommel coughed. "What is it you discuss this time ? " "My paper 's on watering." "I should like, indeed, to hear that," said Mr. Trommel. "And Buddy Thomas is to read a paper too. When you 're a club or a society you say a 'paper,' but it 's just like a composition," explained the under-gar- deuer. "Those we have written this summer we are saving to hand in at school in the fall." "An excellent plan," commented Mr. Trommel. "You 're sure you can't come? " said Mary, turn- ing back reluctantly as she stood at the gate. "No, no ! I shall have a far better understanding if you come and tell me." Certainly the little garden was looking its prettiest. The sweet peas were abloom and the nasturtiums were sturdily climbing toward the top of the fence. 172 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GKEW The color scheme might be a trifle confused, but who would care for that ? The phlox was blossoming, in white and pale pink and red, and it had not the slightest objection to the deep-blue corn-flowers opposite, nor the nastur- tiums on the little arbor, nor the fragrant migno- nette at its feet, nor the tall yellow sunflowers at OJt the gate, which seemed to be chaperoning the little company. "There is something doing all overthegarden," said Randolph Findlay- son, enthusiastically. The two were in Mary's summer-house, awaiting the coming of the rest of the club. "Now we must begin," said Mary, as the last of the Horticulturals, Buddy and Eleanor, came through the gate. "There is n't room, for us all in the arbor, it is n't as big as the Juvenile Bug room, so we '11 have to sit on the grass. It 's Mr. Hadley's turn to THE CLUB IN MAKY'S GARDEN 173 be chairman," she added with dignity, "and the chairman can stand in the arbor. There is n't a chair- there 's only a bench, but that will do ; that 's all that judges have to sit on, father says." "What have you put on your sweet peas, Mary ! " asked Margaret, who was investigating the garden. "I have taken up that that subject in my paper,"' said the president of the club, with dignity j "it 's a mulsh." "What 's a mulsh? " asked Eleanor. The under-gardener hesitated a moment. "Mulsh is a covering," she said. "Sometimes when it is very hot, Eleanor, I have just a sheet over me at night ; sometimes a blanket, or very thick blankets, or a down quilt. Then I am mulshed. You cover the ground over a plant's feet with manure that is 'mulsh' j or you put dead leaves, and that is 'mulsh' ; or you put clippings that the lawn-mower makes to keep the flowers' feet cool, and that is a 'mulsh.' That 's what I did to the sweet peas." But the chairman was in the small summer-house, and rapped with his jack-knife on the table. "The meeting will please come to order." The meeting sat down on the grass with alarm- ing promptness. ' BUDDY AND ELEANOR CAME THROUGH THE GATE ' THE CLUB IN MARY'S GARDEN 175 "We will first listen to a paper by by our honored president," said Randolph Findlayson. Mary rose at once and proceeded to the summer- house. "My paper is about watering," she said. "WATERING "The best way to water plants is not to water them ; that is, you dig the flower-bed very deep, then the roots can go down and keep cool and find something to drink. This makes them self-supporting. My nasturtiums do not get as thirsty as my sweet peas. I don't know why this is, except that they are born so. Lilies and irises are more thirsty than poppies or mignonette ; this also is because they are born so. "It is not good to water when the sun is shining, because the sun drinks up the water before the flowers have a chance to. It is n't good, either, to give just a little water every night; that is just like only washing your face and hands and never having a bath. Nobody's mother lets you do so, and we must n't allow plants to grow up that way, either. "Plants drink all over, just like they breathe all over ; so when you do water you must just soak and 176 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREAV soak and soak them, so that the leaves are all wet, and the water goes 'way down to the roots. Next morning you work over the ground with a rake or hoe. When the earth is loose on top, and looks as if it had n't been wet, the sun does not notice that there is some- thing he can dry up, so the water does not e-vap-o-rate so fast. That is what a mulsh is for. "Yesterday, because there had n't been any rain for a long time, Mr. Trommel showed me how to water my sweet peas. You make a little trench between the rows, fill it with water, and let them drink it up ; then fill it again, and they drink that ; and do it once more. Then put back the dirt ; and over that I put grass- clippings an inch deep to make more mulsh. "Spraying the leaves also washes off the insects. When plants are strong and clean the insects do not go for them so much as when they look thin and are not feeling well. This is mean in them, I think, and reconciles me to having some insects killed, although Mr. Trommel says they are often hard-working fa- thers and mothers of large families." "I watered my garden every single afternoon," said Margaret "that is, when I first had it," she added. THE CLUB IN MAKY'S GARDEN 177 "I don't care," asserted Mary. "Mr. Trommel says it is n't the best way ; that if you begin to do it you just have to keep on and water and water and water, and you can't leave your garden at all, and that the sooner the plants take care of themselves the better ; that way the plants just get a little every day and don't ever have a good drink. He says it gets them into very bad habits." "I know another good way of watering, when there 's a drought," said the chairman. "You scoop out little basins around the plants, and fill them with water two or three times, till the roots have had all they want to drink, and then fill up these holeS with dirt. This is something like mud-pies ; it 's very good fun. "Who 's got another paper? You, Buddy? " "I 'm not going to read my thing," declared Vin- cent, with sudden modesty. " Got to," responded the chairman, firmly and briefly . "It 's the laws of the Horticultural Club, Buddy," said Eleanor, cheerfully. "Jread a paper last week, didn't I, Haddie? "He can't have any refreshments if he won't read his paper, can he, Mary ! " continued the chairman, turning to the hostess. 178 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW "No ! " said the president, relentlessly j "not a sandwich." At this the unwilling member arose and read as follows : "WEEDING "Mr. Trommel says weeds are plants which happen to grow where you don't want them. "There are many kinds of weeds. Whichever kind you have the most of in your garden seems the worst, especially plantain. "I have had a great deal of trouble with plantain. "I think this is called plantain because it is always planting itself where you don't want it. It is also called hen-plant: this is either because the hens are the only people who like it, or because it can make almost as much trouble in the garden as hens. "Most of the weeds have unpleasant names and sound as if they ought to be pulled up. There are pigweed and ragweed. The THE CLUB IN MARY'S GARDEN 179 pigs eat the pigweed, like the toads eat insects ; but it would not do to let a pig in your garden to eat up the pigweed ; it is better to pull it up yourself. Pigweed and ragweed grow very tall. Knot-grass is also a weed. It does not grow as big as pigweed, but it can make just as much bother. It is called knot-grass be- cause it has roots that seem to tie themselves in knots with the roots of other things and are very hard to get all out. Knot-grass has a little pink flower that is very pretty. Purs- lane is another weed. This does not sound like a weed, so sometimes people call it pusley. It has a little yellow flower that shuts up very early, but you must dig it out of your garden. Weeds should be pulled out when they are little ; then they cannot grow big." "There are more kinds of weeds than you 've told 180 MAKY'S GAKDEN AND HOW IT GEEW about, Buddy," commented Margaret. "I 've got chickweed and dandelions and smartweed and witch- grass in my garden," she enumerated proudly. "Then you ought to get your hoe and dig them out just as soon as you go home, Margaret," advised Finnan Haddie ; "and smartweed 's just the same as knot-grass, anyway." "Hoeing is n't the best way to weed," said Donald ; "you just cut off the tops and don't get out the roots that way. I get down on my hands and knees and pull them out." "I know a better way than that," asserted Mary ; "you just lie flat down on the grass in front of the bed and lean on your elbow, and then you can pull out every little weed. When it 's quitch-grass, you have to follow up the roots with your hands." "It would be nice if some animal would just eat up the weeds, like the toads eat insects for us." "Mr. Trommel says," observed Mary, "that if you weed and weed and weed when the plants are little, then the flower gets a head-start and you don't have so much to do by and by." Mary's yellow-haired neighbor lingered after the other small guests were gone. THE CLUB IN MARY'S GARDEN 181 "I think we had a beautiful meeting, Mary ! I wish we could have them here every week." Mary nodded. "It was a nice meeting," she said ; "but there won't be any more for a long time everybody 's going away. We 're going, too, next week, Haddie. Did you know it?" "Wish I could go, too," he said. "It would be very nice," agreed Mary. "I '11 look over your garden for you sometimes, Mary, and see that the toads don't run away ; but" he hesi- tated, "but the garden won't be half so nice," he ended regretfully. CHAPTER XXII WHEN MARY WAS IN THE COUNTRY "A ND did you have a fine time in the country ? " -A- asked Mr. Trommel of the under-gardener, who was sitting opposite him on his little porch. "Um-m-m ! Beautiful ! " said Mary, apprecia- tively. "And what have you learned? " "Well," confessed Mary, modestly, "I did n't learn so very much, but I taught Kenneth ever so many things." "That is even more pleasant," said Mr. Trommel. "It is better to give than to receive instruction." "And I drove the hay-cart, Mr. Trommel ; and once I rode horseback on one of the oxen ! Did you ever try that?" "No," he said, puffing at his pipe. "You see, I might not fit." 182 WHEN MARY WAS IN THE COUNTRY 183 "But the best fun was roping hay." "Roping hay? " repeated Herr Trommel. "Don't you know thatf" asked Mary, in surprise. Herr Trommel shook his head. "I do not know it. Tell me, Liebchen." "Well," began Mary, drawing a long breath, "Dor- set is all hills. Part of the way up the mountain it 's hay-field, and beyond that it 's cows. And it 's very steep. You 'd think the cows would n't dare to do anything but stand up j that as soon as they began to sit down, they would roll right down the moun- tainbut they don't. And almost every morning there are big clouds sitting down behind the barn." "Perhaps they are caught on the top and roll down as you think the cows might?" suggested Mr. Trommel. "Perhaps," admitted Mary. "But how did you rope the hay ? " asked the old gardener. "That 's what I 'm telling you about," said Mary. "First you make windrows you know what wind- rows are? When the grass is all cut with the mow- ing-machine, then it 's hay. Then they take a horse- rake and drive down, and the hay collects in the big curved teeth ; and every once in a while the man 184 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW pulls a handle and the teeth fly up and the hay drops in a kind of long pile that 's raking. Every time he comes to one of these rows he pulls the handle. And when the hay is raked it 's all piled up in long rows those are windrows. If you are going to load the hay on the wagon, you pile up the hay in the windrows and make it into mounds those are haycocks. You don't do that when you are roping it." "It is the roping I wish to hear about," said Mr. Trommel. "But I 'm telling you as fast as I can," declared the under-gardener, a little aggrieved. "Excuse me, little one ; I interrupt the story. Go on." "Well," said Mary, drawing another long breath, "when the hay is all in windrows, and you see them taking out the horses without any wagon, you must run as fast as you can, for they are going to rope it. The horses are all harnessed, but they are n't har- nessed to anything except the cross-bar that you fasten the long leather pieces to the" "The whiffletree," suggested Mr. Trommel. "Yes, I think that 's it," said the under-gardener, judicially ; "and that is fastened to a long chain, and one horse is fastened to one end and one to the other, ROPING HAY 186 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW and then they begin at the bottom and drive them up past three or four windrows ; and then one horse stands still and some one holds him, and a man drives the other horse, just walking beside him and holding the reins that way, to the other end of the windrow." "I see ; and the chain is on the upper side." "Yes. Then they drive the horses down the slope and toward each other, too, and the hay collects in a big bunch, and the chain holds it, and you sit on it, and it 's- beautiful! The last trips are the nicest ones, for the hay is 'way up and you have a long ride. It 's it 's extremely interesting," she said. "Urn," said Herr Trommel ; "I should think it might be. I did not know that method. I have learned something." CHAPTEE XXIII MR. TROMMEL TEACHES THE ART OF BUDDING [August] HE little Horticultural Club is not dead, I hope?" said Mr. Trommel to the under-gar- dener, who had come to call. "Oh, no, it is n't dead," said Mary. "You see, I was away, and Mildred and Donald are away still ; it 's just just resting." "I bud some young apple-trees to-morrow," re- marked Herr Trommel, casually. Then he puffed at his pipe in silence. "What 's budding, Mr. Trommel?" asked Mary, immediately interested. Herr Trommel set floating a great cloud of smoke. "It is like grafting," he said ; "only different." "Oh ! " said Mary, and was silent, while Herr Trommel puffed at his pipe. 187 188 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW It was late in the afternoon, and the two were sit- ting on the broad door-step, for it was Herr Trom- mel's hour of shirt-sleeved meditation. "Do trees like to be grafted? " asked Mary, after a few minutes. "Do they always like to grow to be something different?" "No," he said ; "sometimes they do not like it at all ; sometimes they show you very plainly what they think. But it is life ; it is education. Do you re- member that eglantine of Monsieur Karr's? No? "Well, then, this eglantine was grafted with a fine sort-" "I know how you do that ! " broke in his listener ; "and you put the grafted place a little way under the ground so the suckers won't come up." "Yes, yes ! you have a fine mind, but you should not interrupt. This eglantine did not wish to be a grafted rose and have very fine flowers. He liked better his own little roses. Yes. "So he sent up a shoot. The gardener said it was but a sucker, and he cut it off. "He sent up another shoot, but the gardener cut that off. And again and again until he found it was no use. "Then he sent his roots far along under the ground, ME. TEOMMEL TEACHES BUDDING 189 and there, on the other side of the fence, where the gardener could not see it, came up a fine strong shoot, a little eglantine, just like its papa. "Then the graft, the adopted baby, grew weak and thin and the little eglantine grew fat and strong. Be- cause why ? The eglantine was treating the graft as in the fairy stories the wicked stepmother treats the child that is not hers. All the food everything went to the baby on the other side of the fence. "But the gardener did not know this. He was troubled about his fine rose. He stirred the ground. He put on the liquid manure. But the graft had none of it. The eglantine sent all to its own baby. Yes. "By and by the graft, the little aristocrat, died; but the eglantine over the fence was starred all over with little roses. After a while the eglantine the papa died also. It had given all its food to the baby. "When the gardener dug up his dead rose- bush, it was only then he knew what had happened. He found the root going to the other side of the fence; then he saw the little eglantine with its pretty roses. Then he knew why his fine rose had died." "How did the eglantine know that the gardener could n't see its baby if it was on the other side of the fence ? " asked Mary. 190 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW "That I cannot tell," said Herr Trommel. "Per- haps it did not know. But plants will take much trouble for their children." "I 'm sorry for the graft that died," said Mary, slowly ; "but I 'm glad the eglantine took care of its own baby. It does n't seem fair to make plants be what they don't want to be." "No-o," said Mr. Trommel, doubtfully j "but it is education ; it is life ; it is also horticulture." The next afternoon, when his visitors came, Mr. Trommel was down at the end of his garden, at work already on his young apple-trees. " I brought Haddie, Mr. Trommel. Do you mind I " asked Mary. "He wanted to learn budding, too." "Eh? What?" Herr Trommel turned and scruti- nized the two. "It is a good lad. I shall not mind," he said, and turned again to his task. The old gardener was taking his work comfortably. He sat on a square, low bench, no higher than a has- sock. "It is as well," he said to Finnan Haddie, who was looking interestedly over his shoulder, "to work in comfort as in discomfort. Yes ! One must not grudge the backache for one's work no. But if one can work as well and have no backache, it is better. MR. TKOMMEL TEACHES BUDDING 191 So I have the little bench. I also have the lower edges curved like a little sled. Thus I can move along without rising." "Is that the < bud' -that stick in your hand?" asked the boy, "No, no ! These are the ' buds 'this and this." He touched with his budding-knife the little "bumps" on the branch, as Mary called them. "Now look ! First, I find a smooth place on the stem of the tree. Then I make T a cut across, cut length- stock. "Then little bud, so. wise Then I make another so. That is for the I take the bud-stick and I cut a thin slice, deepest just under the so. Then I hold it carefully by the handle the bud, that is and I take out with my knife the thin BUD- STICK piece of wood inside, very carefully, or the bud will come out, too, yes ! and I leave but a tiny bit of the wood just under the bud. It is ready. "Now," and he turned his attention again to the 192 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW young apple-tree, "I slip the thin ivory end of my budding-knife that is made just for this I slip it under the bark and loosen it, so. Then I can slip the bud in yes. And now I tie it," he _ said, taking a strand of damp raffia from the B bunch thrust under his apron-string, and be- j ginning to bandage carefully. "I must cover the cut well, so that the rain shall not get in ; I must also have it close around the bud, so." "Does it stay like that all winter?" asked ,~. f ~ rf0 Finnan Haddie. "No, no ! In perhaps ten days I take the bandage off; I must not choke the little fellow no!" "Now you 're going to let us bud some of the trees, are n't you, Mr. Trom- mel?" coaxed Mary. "What ! " exclaimed Herr Trommel, turning himself around on his bench and looking rather aghast at his visitors, who had taken out expectant jack- knives. "But I wish them to grow! Am I not showing you how ? " The young gardeners looked crestfallen. "But how can we learn, Mr. Trommel, if you won't let us do some ourselves ? " asked Finnan Haddie. ME. TROMMEL TEACHES BUDDING 193 Mr. Trommel fixed his spectacles on the boy. "You are right, my lad," said he, after a moment. "I tell you go to that old tree yonder and cut some twigs like this" and he held up one of his bud-sticks. "Now," he said when these were brought, "these shall be your bud-sticks. You must each take one, yes ! Now try if you can cut a bud well from this little branch and take out also the bit of wood inside. If you can do that well, then I shall let you cut a bud from one of my bud-sticks and put it in one of my little trees, below the bud I shall put in. Be careful that you do not cut the fingers ! " Both the young gardeners worked for a few mo- ments in silence. "No, no ! " said Herr Trommel as Mary showed him her production ; "it is haggled, it is dirty inside you have dropped it on the ground ! When you cut your hand, do you not know you must wash the sand from the cut before you stick it together with plaster? The apple-tree also does not like that it have a cut stuck together with sand inside. Let me see your knife ! " Mary held out a limp-bladed jack-knife for inspec- tion. Mr. Trommel grunted disapprovingly. "No won- 194 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW der you cannot cut!" He sighed deeply. "Take mine," he said resignedly ; " now try again." Mary screwed her forehead into a frown of intense effort, for Mr. Trommel's spectacles were upon her. "Ah, that is better ! " said the old gardener, ap- provingly ; "it is not muscle, but skill and a sharp knife." "How is that? " asked Randolph Findlayson, anx- iously holding up his "bud" for Mr. Trommel's in- spection. "It is good," admitted Mr. Trommel. "Then I can bud one of your trees'?" he begged eagerly. "Yes," said Herr Trommel, resolutely. "It would not be right that you should grow to be a man and not know budding. "Have you found a smooth place? Yes? And be- low the bud I put in? That is right. "I think if George Washington's father had but taught him to bud, he would not have lost his cherry- tree. No. For then, when the little George felt he must cut, he would have budded the cherry-tree. He would not have cut it down. No." CHAPTER XXIV TRANSPLANTING PERENNIALS [Early September] "T BREAK up some families to-morrow," remarked J- Mr. Trommel ; "you want to see how it is done? " "Is it insects ? " asked the under-gardener, who was leaning on the fence, admiring Mr. Trommel's asters. "No, no, it is not insects ; it is some perennials. The family has grown too large, so I must send off some of the young ones ; it is my larkspurs." "Why do you move them now?" "It is the time." "But why is it the time?" persisted the under- gardener. "Liebchen, you will be the savant some day, you ask so many questions. The larkspurs have finished blooming, they have retired. If I separate them now, 195 196 MAKY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW they have time to make themselves at home, and they will be ready to blossom in the spring. I do the same thing now to the irises and the phloxes the tall ones. They have finished their summer's work. I give them a change of place and send away some of the children. "They do not like that you interfere with them early, when they are preparing for the summer ; also they will not have you move them when they are blooming. So we wait until they have finished." ' "I understand," said Mary ; "and if I dug up my phlox and made twins of it all, would it bloom next year like yours ? " "No, no ! your phlox is Drummondi, it is annual. Annuals are good to grow quickly they are also good to die quickly. Me I like the perennials better they are like old friends who come every year." "Perennials and annuals and all the kinds of plants used to mix me up very much, but I have them all straight now." "Yes?" said Mr. Trommel, inquiringly. Shovel in hand, he was inspecting a clump of peonies. "Now you comprehend?" "You see, it 's this way," explained Mary. "There 's evergreens ; that 's very easy : they are ever green, TRANSPLANTING PERENNIALS 197 they don't change in the winter. Then comes de-cid- uous; that 's like lots of trees and shrubs : they pay a little more attention to the winter, and drop their leaves and just go in the bare branches. Next come perennials; those die down until you would think they were dead, but they are n't, for the roots are alive. And then there are the annuals; they are all dead. The deciduous shrubs, and perennials, and annuals are just like that story of Top-off and Half- gone and All -gone." "I have forgotten the story," said Mr. Trommel. "But that is very interesting." "Then there 's another way to remember it. I think of the animals. A horse or a dog is like an evergreen; they are always around, and look about the same. And a turtle digs down into the mud and stays there all winter, and then comes out in the spring ; he is a perennial. And the dragon-flies and 198 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW butterflies, that just live for one summer they are annuals." "That also is very interesting," said Mr. Trommel. "But you know there are biennials the plants that live two years. How can you remember those ? " "They troubled me quite a little," admitted Mary ; "but I have them now. They are almost like annuals ; and a is for annual, and then conies b that 's for biennials; and perennials ought to be c, but they are n't ; and then comes d for deciduous, and e for evergreen." "You have a fine mind, my child," said Herr Trom- mel ; "but you know these *"***. annuals and biennials and perennials you tell me of belong to one large class, \ the herbaceous, while the deciduous and evergreen are woody plants, and you must not have them mixed." "Oh, no ; I can remember those because I learned herbivorous animals : herbivorous animals have n't as TRANSPLANTING PERENNIALS 199 sharp teeth as the carnivorous, and herbaceous are the things they can eat. A horse likes to eat the leaves of trees or bushes, and he does n't mind a few little hard twigs ; he tries to eat the tree, but he can only eat a little of the bark. But he could n't eat up the whole tree. If it was herbaceous, he could. "The woody things, the trees and shrubs that are n't herbaceous, can keep their tops up above the earth all winter ; but the herbaceous can't. They 've only got summer dresses and not any winter ones, so all of them that are n't eaten or picked at the end of the summer get their death of cold. But the roots of some of them, if they are perennials, can live just as long as as anything ! " "That is very, very enlightening," observed Herr Trommel ; "but if you are not careful to be a good gardener, perhaps you will give the lectures on Nature Study when you grow up, and that would be a sad thing ! " The under-gardener looked grave. "Then perhaps we 'd better go on with the planting," said Mary, in a subdued voice. Herr Trommel dug up a large clump of phloxes. "They do not come apart very easily," he said, feel- 200 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW ing among the roots for the plants and then pulling them apart. "The family are very fond of each other," re- marked Mary. "Urn ! But it is not all affection ; the roots are all trying to get something to eat for themselves. I have them apart now one, two, three, five roots. Now we shall have five plants where we had one. This way the garden grows itself every year, and then you have plants to give away. "Now we divide the larkspur the Delphinium." "Why do you call larkspur Delphinium ? " asked Mary. "Why do we call it Delphinium f " repeated Herr Trommel. "Oh, because some man thought the little nectary of the flower, the little place where it keeps the sweet, looked like a dolphin." "That is n't a very good reason," objected Mary. "It does n't look a bit like a fish. Why don't they call it something that would let you know it is such a lovely blue ? " "That I cannot tell, lAebchen. Flowers have suf- fered much at the hands of botanists. Delphinium is not a bad-sounding name. The pretty larkspur has not much to complain of. But I think that lovely TRANSPLANTING PERENNIALS 201 one, the California poppy, felt very sad the day that Herr von Eschscholtz found her and she was named Eschscholtziaihe poor thing ! She must go always to a new home with that name fastened to her. "This larkspur will divide into three," he contin- ued, turning again to his work ; "and we put each in a new place, and they each start a new family." "It 's just like making colonies, is n't it?" remarked Mary. "Yes," assented Mr. Trommel ; "except that one does not have to dig up the roots of all the people in the old country to move a few to the new. "Now we divide the irises. We cut with the spade where we cannot pull apart." "Irises have a pretty name." Herr Trommel nodded. "Yes; they have not suffered." "Iris was a goddess who had lots of different-col- ored dresses," explained Mary. "I think she used to wear a rainbow over her shoulder." "She might," admitted Mr. Trommel. "And the iris is called iris because it is so beautifully shaded, the violet into the white and lavender and What is that thing, Mr. Trommel," she broke off "that thick root with the little roots coming from it ? " 202 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW "That has another bad name, little one : it is rhizome. It is the place where the iris stores the food and moisture ; the roots bring it there. We must give the iris plenty of room when we transplant. She is a delicate thing a rainbow-lady, as you say ; but she has the fine appetite, and she also likes much to drink." "Are n't you going to put the rhiz the storehouse farther down ? " "No, no ! The roots go down. The rhizome the storehouse stays on top. Now we have the peonies and phloxes and larkspurs settled yes! Now I set out some young hollyhocks from my seed-bed. You have some to set out from your garden, have you not?" "Oh, yes ; mine are fine." "And where shall you put them?" inquired Mr. Trommel of the young gardener. "In my perennial border," answered Mary, with dignity. "I 'm going to have lots of hollyhocks next year, but I thought it would be be pleasanter if I saw you move yours first. Then I would have expe- rience. It 's hard to know when you 're doing it just right." "No-o," answered tjie old gardener ; "you must TRANSPLANTING PERENNIALS 203 only remember that the roots have feelings, and that the plant does not like to be disturbed when it is busy with other matters. And water well when you are transplanting. I tell you another thing, Liebchen: plants will take much pe- culiar treatment from peo- ple that love them. Ah ! " he said, straightening him- self, "the old Peter is tired ! I shall do no more to-day. Here, little one ; these are for you. That is iris and phlox and the Delphinium and one root of peony there is not room for more than one in your garden." "I 'm very, Very much obliged, Mr. Trommel," said the under-gardener, gratefully. "Do you think I can plant them all right myself? " "Why not? Are you not now an experienced gar- dener, and the president of the Horticultural Club that is now resting?" CHAPTER XXV THE FLOWER SHOW [September] Tj^EW people in Brookside did not know of the *- Flower Show. There was a large placard on Judge Patterson's gate : GRAND FLOWER SHOW BY THE HORTICULTURAL CLUB AT THREE O'CLOCK ADMISSION, 10 CENTS and for a week the club had industriously sold tickets. A pasteboard box, slit invitingly, and marked, FOR PRIZES FOR THE FLOWER SHOW, was 204 THE FLOWER SHOW 205 placed where it could not be overlooked in the house of each member. < "My, my!" said Mr. Trommel, admiringly, as Mary set down her wheelbarrow just outside his gate, "what fine sunflowers !" "Yes, and look," she said, lifting aside the sun- flowers and showing long-stemmed white Comet asters, "and sweet peas, too ! " "My, my ! " he repeated. "There will not be a prize left in the exhibition ! " "I think there will be," she said ; "we 've got lots of prizes. They are n't very big, but there are lots of them." "And that is all you are showing?" The under-gardener nodded. "My corn-flowers have stopped blooming; I I forgot to cut them," she explained ; "and I know Eleanor's nasturtiums are better than mine, but she has n't any sunflowers." "That is right you should bring but the best." "And I cut them this morning, early. That was the best time, you said Haddie ! " she broke off suddenly, as her neighbor came out of his gate, laden with a great market-basket, "come over and show Mr. Trommel ! " "And what have you, my lad!" asked the old 206 MAEY'S GAEDEN AND HOW IT GEEW man, as the second young gardener stood beside his fetice. "Asters, and squashes, and cdm," answered Ean- dolph Findlayson. "Look ! " and he held up a thick, green -clad ear. "Prachtvoll /" declared the old gardener. "But at thes how you should pull back the husk and the pretty silk a little, that people may see what a fine big ear is there." " ' What Ug ears you 've got ! ' " quoted Mary, with a laugh. "But come on now, Haddie. Don't you forget to come early, Mr. Trommel. You 're one of the judges, you know," she said, as they turned away. The Pattersons' piazza was a very busy place, es- pecially the broad, railed-in space at the north end which extended some twenty feet beyond the house. This was shaded by awnings, and cut off by Japanese screens from the rest of the piazza. Behind the screens there was bustling, and chatting, and running ; the exhibitors were hurrying to and fro, finding water and jars for their flowers ; some were already arrang- ing them on the long, narrow table (boards on boxes). There were flowers in market-baskets, on the table, or laid in piles on chairs. THE FLOWEK SHOW 207 "Some of the vases will be prettier than others," complained Eleanor, "and it won't be fair ! " "Well, when I was at the Rose Show with father," said Mildred, "everything was in flat glass bottles- like they put vinegar in, only without any handle ; but we can't get those," she added. "They ought to be all alike," persisted Eleanor. The president thought deeply for a moment. "Pre- serve-jars ! " she exclaimed, struck by asudden inspiration. "We can get lots of them," cried Donald. "Come on, Buddy !" "Nobody must help any- body, either," said Eleanor, putting her head on one side and standing back from the table to look at her nasturtiums, "because there 's a prize for the prettiest arrangement. There are lots of prizes, are n't there, Mary? " But the president was busily arranging her sun- flowers in a stone jar, and only nodded. 208 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREAV "There '11 be prizes for everybody!" repeated Eleanor. "If they can get them," added Buddy, who had come back with a load of fruit-jars. "Twenty-five cents is the first prize," said Margaret, who was dipping the jars into a pail of water ; "and ten cents is the second, Eleanor, and we ?ve got to stay out while the judges are making up their minds." "And we must n't put our names on the flowers till afterward," said Mary. "Oh, they 're coming! " said Buddy Thomas, ex- citedly, thrusting his head from behind ' the screen. "The judges are here, and there 's lots of people com- ing up on the piazza. Don- ald 's down there by the gate, taking the admission. Are you ready ? " "No ! " said Mary, coming out from behind the THE FLOWEK SHOW 209 screen. "The exhibition 's not yet open to the pub- lic," she said firmly to the relatives and friends of the Horticultural Club, who were fast assembling. "Mr. Trom- mel 's in there ; I saw him!" complained Mar- garet's little bro- ther. "Mr. Trom- mel," answered the president, with dignity, "is one of the judges to give out prizes. When the screen is pulled up the show begins." But in a few minutes the signal was given and the screen was raised. "Now it is open!" said Mary. Two tall jars of sunflowers stood at the entrance, each bearing the card, "Vote of Thanks." The piazza posts were trimmed with clematis and hop- vines. The long narrow table had been covered with sheets. 210 MAKY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GKEW Jars of tall asters were along the center, each with the name of the owner attached, and on Mary's white Comet asters was the card, "First Prize." There were African marigolds, dainty sweet peas, fragrant spikes of mignonette, nasturtiums in plain glass bowls showing their delicate pale-green stems, pansies in rich colors, corn-flowers of Yale blue. At the other end of the table were the vegetables. Randolph Findlayson's corn was on a platter, garnished with flaming nasturtiums, and the firm white kernels were temptingly displayed. The card, " First Prize," was beside it. Visitors crowded about the table, chatting and admiring, while the Horticultural Club stood within hearing of their comments and looked very pleased. Few of the guests showed any readiness to go away. "They 're waiting until the prizes are given out," whispered Buddy Thomas to Margaret. "I 've got two second prizes anyway, and that 's as good as a first corn and nasturtiums." "And how did you grow such fine corn, my lad?" asked a kindly-looking old gentleman of Randolph Findlayson. "When did you plant it? " "Twentieth of May," answered Finnan Haddie. "I dug the ground deep, and I made a furrow six THE FLOWEK SHOW 211 inches deep, and then I sprinkled fertilizer," he told rapidly, "and then I covered that over 'bout two inches, and then I dropped in the kernels, five to each hole ; but you have to hoe it and hoe it and hoe it." "They 're going to give out the prizes now ! " whispered Finnan Haddie, turning to Mary, as he saw Judge Patterson and Mr. Trommel in earnest conversation. "No, no ! I cannot make a speech," said Herr Trommel, in a loud whisper. "Sh-sh," said Margaret to Buddy Thomas j "the prizes are coming ! " "I have been asked to give out the prizes," said Judge Patterson, standing at the end of the long table, "but I must first say that I have never before been to such a Flower Show. It has been a most in- teresting exhibition, and, as a fellow-townsman, I am proud of the Horticultural Club. "Nasturtiums, first prize, Eleanor Thomas," he read. Even Eleanor's yellow braids reflected happi- ness as she went up to take her envelop. Because the prizes were many and the exhibitors were few, none were disappointed. The first prize for asters and for sweet peas went to Mary ; for pan- sies, Donald ; for the best arrangement, Mildred j for 212 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GKEW showing of vegetables, Finnan Haddie; while Margaret won a second prize for sweet peas, and Buddy second for corn and nasturtiums. "Hey, Liebchen" Mr. Trommel spoke in a loud whisper, pulling the presi- dent's sleeve as she passed him with Finnan Haddie, "Liebchen, tell your little Horticultural to wait. I cannot make the speech, but I have something for them." "What is it, Mr. Trom- mel?" coaxed little Elea- nor, as they followed him around to a distant corner of the piazza. He stooped over a flat wooden box. "I have been much pleased with the little gardens and your fine Flower Show," he said, beaming on the Horticultural Club, who were squatting around the box for a better look at what might come out of it. "I think you all deserve a prize, so I have here a prize for each of you." He opened the box and be- gan to take out the brown bulbs. THE FLOWEK SHOW 213 "Onions ! " exclaimed Margaret, disappointedly. "Onions, indeed!" repeated Herr Trommel, in- dignantly. "It is the Roman hyacinth, the lovely Paper- White narcissus, the Due von Thol tulip, I have for you. Onions ! " "Please excuse me, Mr. Trommel," said Marga- ret, meekly. He nodded. "I have these kinds because they will bloom at the sarne^ time. Yes." He counted them over. "There should be six bulbs for each j two narcissus, two hyacinth, two tulip 1 "Oh, say ! " exclaimed Buddy, with enthusiasm. "Oh, Mr. Trommel ! " cried Mary. "These will bloom at the same time, then you shall have another fine Flower Show. That is the way of an exhibition : when you have won prizes at one, you are not happy until you have had another." "Like candy?" suggested Mary. "You always want another piece." 214 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GKEW Herr Trommel nodded. "It is the sweet, the popular praise. A little of it is goo&,*Liebchen, but remember, much may be bad for the stomach." CHAPTER XXVI SETTING OUT BULBS [October] HERR TROMMEL beamed approvingly on the freshly spaded bed in Mary's little garden. "That is right," he said. "The time to make a gar- den is the year before." He looked around in silence for a moment. "But you have dug up your privet also ! " Mary nodded. "Guess what I ? ve done with them? " she asked with an air of importance. Herr Trommel shook his head. "Sold them," said Mary, impressively; "three dollars a hundred, because they are only one-year plants." Mr. Trommel looked at her with admiration. "Are you in business already? " he asked. "No," said the under-gardener, modestly, "not 215 216 MAEY'S GAEDEN AND HOW IT GEEW exactly ; but father said he wanted a hedge, and I re- membered you said mine would n't be any good for my garden next year, so he bought mine. And I 'm to set it out, too. I offered to dig the trench for it, but father 's going to have Quinlan dig it. I 'm to to superintend." "That is a fine plan," said Mr. Trommel. "I think so," said Mary. "Father said it would look very bad if any one else superintended when there was a president of the Horticultural Club in the house." "That is so," agreed Mr. Trommel ; "and can you set the plants straight? " ^Of course," said Mary j "and I 'm going to put an inch of manure in the bottom of the trench and have the string stretched tight, and then," she went on breathlessly, "a little later I 'm going to mulsh the plants, so they will surely be nice." "Liebchen, you speak like an experienced gar- dener." Mary laughed happily. "Father was going to pay me for the job, setting out the hedge, I mean, but I wanted John to dig my garden for me, so I thought that would make it even. He dug mine this morning and he 's coming to dig the trench this after- SETTING OUT BULBS 217 noon. You see, I have the privet heeled in," she added in her professional manner. "I see," said Mr. Trommel. "Guess what the Horticultural Club 's going to do next spring ? " she said mysteriously. "I could not." "We 've decided to engage in business. "We 're going to take contracts, yes, and fix up people's yards for them in the spring, like Mr. Fox does, only we would do it better." "And would you do pruning also?" "Oh, yes." "It is a noble work, Liebchen," declared the old man, earnestly. "Then one can pass the pretty spiraeas and forsythias without the bad feeling here," and he laid his hand where the apron-strings were tied in front, "to see how the poor things are choked with branches they do not want and yet have their heads cut off as a remedy." "Haddie is going to help me set out the hedge, be- cause I gave him some of my perennials, some of the little larkspurs and hollyhocks I grew myself. It 's nicest to give things away." "But it is well to exchange also," said Mr. Trom- mel. "The lad is right. J, 218 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW "And the bulbs, when do you set them out? " "Monday. Would you show me Monday after school?" "Yes, I might come over then, but it is easy to set them out. Is all the little garden dug now?" "Oh, no 5 the asters are blooming, and sweet peas a little, too. It 's just my perennial border." + On Monday, on the way home from school, Mary stopped at Mr. Trommel's in the old fashion, for Mr. Trommel sometimes forgot his engagements. "We 're all ready for you," she said. "Let me see ; it is the bulbs we set out," he said, rising from his work. "Just wait till you see all I have ! " said Mary. "Have you sand in your garden? " "Ho." "Then I take a little with us." "What for? " asked Mary. "The bulbs hate manure ; if we put a little sand around them, then they are sure not to touch it. You know where it is, Liebchen, and my legs are old. Go then into the greenhouse and fill a flat with sand, and then we plant the bulbs." "There are crocuses," she confided, as they closed SETTING OUT BULBS 219 Mr. Trommel's gate and then walked across the street "two kinds of crocuses, the yellow ones and the purple, and snowdrops and tulips. I 've got tu- lips," she repeated, "and narcissus, besides those you gave me. You see, I wanted my garden to be just like yours. And daffodils, too ! father gave me those." "That is very fine," said Mr. Trommel. They had come to the gate of Mary's little garden. "What shall we plant first, little one ? " he asked. > "Snowdrops, because they come up first. The /snowdrop's other name is GalanthusI know that. /Where would be the best place for them? I only Lhave three." Herr Trommel considered a moment. "I should put them right here in the little grass-plot," he said. "I think they like it better than in the border." "Just dig a little hole? " "We dig the hole and make the ground a little richer, then we put a handful of sand in, so that the manure does not touch the roots." "Of course the snowdrop would n't like that. Is the hole deep enough ? " Herr Trommel peered down through his spectacles. "About three inches? Yes, that is right. Some 220 MAKY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GKEW people put the snowdrop in a cold frame, but that is a wicked thing. The little lady comes up as soon as it is possible, and it is not pleasant for her to wake up and find herself in a box with lettuce seeds and other vegetables, perhaps." "Shall we put the crocuses in the grass, too ? " ques- tioned the assistant. "Yours are in the grass." "I think the little patches of crocus look pretty coming up in the grass. Besides, you have also the purple crocus ; that is far happier in the grass. When the little crocus comes up through the ground there is nothing else in blossom. It has just the brown earth, and that does not look pretty with the pale purple cups " "A is n't becoming to it?" suggested Mary. "Yes, yes, that is it." "Won't it do any harm when we run the lawn- mower over ? " "No, no; the leaves will have withered then. These spring babies stay but a little while." "And we plant these just the way we planted the snowdrops ? " "Just the same. The flowers might be larger if we put in more fertilizer they like the leaf- mold ; but the ground is good : it is not necessary. Size is SETTING OUT BULBS 221 not everything. I like you just as well as if you were so big you could not get in my greenhouse. I would not greatly admire an anemone that was six inches across. "We gardeners sometimes make a flower more beautiful, but sometimes we change it until the liebe Gott himself would hardly know which flower it was meant for. The double snowdrop ! That is a wickedness. The little snowdrop is a lovely shape, and more petals put inside the little bell do not make it prettier. Double violets ! That is another iniquity ! " "But they are very sweet, and they come in a lovely box," protested Mary, "a great bunch of them tied with violet ribbon ; sometimes it 's a cord that is violet, too, with tassels on the end." "A cord with tassels and a lovely box ! " groaned Mr. Trommel. "I thought you were a gardener, Liebchen, and you talk like a a young lady. Is the dear flower better for being made into a purple rosette?" he demanded. "Are the flowers happy in being taken away from their homes and packed to- gether in a bouquet that is like a purple cauliflower, and worn by a foolish woman who is chiefly pleased in knowing how much they cost ? " 222 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW But the assistant was unconvinced. "I 'd like to be grown up and wear a big bunch of violets stuck in my coat," she declared firmly. Herr Trommel sighed. "Let us go on with the planting," he said sadly. "What have you there?" "Narcissus and daffodils and tulips the tulips are the scarlet ones. Narcissus is the one who was changed into a flower, is n't he?" "Urn yes," replied Mr. Trommel. "He is the young man who looked in the glass too long." "But it was n't glass," protested the under-gardener, who had a passion /ictssus for facts. "It was a pool of water where he looked down and saw himself." "Well," said Herr Trommel, impatiently, "and was not that all the kind of mirror they had in those days? If there had been a looking-glass in his room, you may be sure Narcissus would never have troubled himself to go to the brook. No ! " "Then he would n't have changed into a flower," said Mary. "Perhaps not," agreed Mr. Trommel, "but un- SETTING OUT BULBS 223 doubtedly he is prettier as a flower than he was as a young man j besides, there are more of him, so we cannot be sorry. Let us put these in the border." "In a row?" "No. I think a clump would be prettier ; we have not enough to make a row no. We make a clump of daffodils and a clump of narcissus and then a little clump of tulips. Yes." "That would be pretty," agreed the under-gar- dener. "Let me make the holes. Six inches for the daffodils," and she dug busily with the trowel ; "now a little sand, so the manure can't touch it-" "Be sure you have it right side up ! " put in Mr. Trommel. "Of course," said Mary, with dignity ; "the little nose- that is the top, is n't it?" Mr. Trommel nodded. "And if I come over to-morrow you '11 show me how to fix the bulbs so they will grow in the house?" "Yes, yes." "How does the bulb know when it is time to come out!" "How does it know?" repeated Mr. Trommel. 224 MAEY'S GAEDEN AND HOW IT GEEW "You must ask the liebe Gott, my child. Do not you awake in the morning when you have slept enough? These crocuses and daffodils we have put in the ground, they also will awake when they have slept enough." CHAPTER XXVII BULBS FOR THE WINDOW-GARDEN [October] U said you would show me how to plant my bulbs, so I could have them in my window- garden, Mr. Trommel. Did you forget?" The old gardener was standing by his potting- bench. "No, no ; this time I did not forget. I have the pots ready for you see? Those large shallow ones." "I can reach," she said, climbing on the bench. "Now we put the soil in it," said she, going quickly toward the potting-bench. "No, no ! not yet. Those pots are new ones. Put them in the tub there and let them drink, else they will take the moisture from the bulbs. No, no," he repeated, as the under-gardener pushed up her sleeve, making ready to search for them in the tub ; "they 15 225- 226 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW have not yet their fill of water. They are thirsty, those pots. Get some sand in the flat yonder, and we mix the soil while we wait ; one third sand and two thirds potting-soil," he directed. "Why do we have more sand for bulbs than for other things ? " asked Mary. "They like it so," answered Mr. Trommel ; "be- sides, the roots are fine and little. When you are potting, Liebchen, and you do not know the food a plant likes, you give more sand. If the roots are strong and heavy, like geranium roots, you give less sand. They can take big mouthfuls and have the strong digestion. But even for these the potting-soil should be rich, yet loose it should be right." "But how do you know?" asked Mary, in per- plexity. Mr. Trommel passed his hand through the rich, dark soil, squeezed a handful, then opened his fingers. "See, it is damp, yet it drops apart, or is about to crumble yes. Now, if it did not, if it held together, as when you make a snowball or the mud- pies, it would be too stiff. Few plants would like it so, but for the bulbs I put yet more sand ; two of sand to one of potting-soil is not too much." "Now they have had enough drink," said Mary, BULBS FOR THE WINDOW-GARDEN 227 diving with bare arms into the tub and coming up again with the dripping pots. "We must put this in the bottom," said Herr Trommel, dropping bits of broken crock into each pot ; "it is for drainage and so the hole will not be- come tight stopped." "But you did n't do that when we potted cut- tings," objected the assistant. "The pots were but two inches j if they are bigger they must have the bit of crock." "We can't put the tulips in very deep." "No ; the little fellows just have their noses under the covers. Now we make a little cushion of sand." "So he will sleep comfortably 1 ?" "So he will sleep well," assented Mr. Trommel ; "and we put the other fellows in here two, three, four, six tulips ; if we have them but two inches apart they will not crowd." "And we cover them over up to the noses?" "Yes, but shake it down gently ; we do not pat hard." "And now we water them ; bulbs, Hebchen, should be kept moist but not too wet. Now they must go in the dark and go to sleep." "Why do we have to put them to sleep?" asked Mary. 228 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW "It is this way, Liebchen. The pretty flower, the baby, is there in the bulb asleep. The roots, you see, have not grown. They stretch down while the baby is sleeping, when the ground on top is tight over him, before the spring and the sunshine wake him up. Then, when he wakes and comes up to reach the sunshine, the roots are ready to take care of the pretty little one and give him food ; but if we bring him in the house and wake him up too soon, he has no' one to take care of him." "I understand," said Mary ; "and we can^t put it to sleep in the house, because the baby would wake up and then the roots can't do anything." "Yes, that is it. You might put the pot in. the cellar, or I tell you. Dig a little trench in the corner by the fence, where the cold wind is kept off. Then you put the pot in and cover over well and mark it. In seven or eight weeks you dig it up. " "But you know, Mr. Trommel, that Captain Kidd lost his things that way," objected Mary. "Captain Kidd did not mislay his things ; he was unable to return. That is all. Besides, he did not plant tulips and narcissi. You should mark the place ; and you must make the trench a foot deep and put in a layer of coal ashes." BULBS FOR THE WINDOW-GARDEN 229 "You said those were n't good for the plants ! " "They are for drainage and to keep out the worms yes." "Then we put in the pot?" said Mary. "About level with the ground, yes; and then we fill in with earth and round it over ; and when the nights grow cold and there is a crust frozen, we pile stable litter four inches deep over it that is so it will not freeze tight. And then when it has slept it is well to allow eight weeks then we take it up." "Then we put it in the window?" "Not yet ; we must not wake it suddenly. Then we put it in a room that has light and air, but no extra heat." "Then the bulbs think the spring is coming," said Mary ; "and they get ready." "Yes j and when it has its clothes ready, then the baby comes out : when the leaves and stalks are grown, then we take it to the warm sunshine and have the flowers." CHAPTER XXVIII THE WINDOW-GARDEN [October] TTTHAT else could I have for a window-garden, ' Mr. Trommel ?" asked Mary. The old man took the pipe from his mouth. "Geraniums rubber-plant," he said indifferently ; "they suffer long and are kind." "But I want something different," objected the under-gardener ; "why would n't other things grow f " "Plants do not like it in our houses. They do not have moisture enough. The dry furnace heat troubles them. Also the insects. If you try to grow roses the red spider will find them out, also the aphis ; and one aphis, Liebchen, can have nearly a hundred chil- dren before the warm weather begins. That is too many for a rose-bush to take care of." 230 THE WINDOW-GARDEN 231 "I 'm going to have father sit and smoke his cigar right alongside of them and puff the smoke on the leaves. That will keep the insects off." "Yes, but the Herr Papa might grow tired, and the lady mother would not like that I teach you Bor- deaux mixture and such things." "Could n't you tell me something to keep the in- sects off? " Herr Trommel thought a moment. "Can you re- member a recipe, little one t " "Of course I can I 've been to cooking school ! I know lots of them." "Well, then, take a quarter of a pound of soap ' ; "Quarter of a pound of soap," repeated Mary, duti- fully. "Cut it in nice little slices. Put it in a quart of water and let it stand on the stove until it is dis- solved." 232 MARY'S GARDEN AND HOW IT GREW "Like you melt chocolate," said the under- gardener. "Yes ; and when it is melted, as you say, add to it five gallons of water yes." "That 's a lot of water," said Mary, doubtfully. "Yes, but it is for a bath. You should dip the plants in this every week." "And then won't the insects bother?" "Very little. Insects, Hebchen, are like chil- dren that are not nice : they do not like water ; even more do they dislike soap and water. But the plants like to be clean." "But, Mr. Trommel, I have n't any inside plants." "Well, then, if you have no house-plants, why not have a box of sand and make them yourself? Have you not made cuttings of the privet ? Why should you not cut from the Herr Papa's bushes THE WINDOW-GARDEN 233 and make little forsythias and hydrangeas, and what you wish geraniums, begonias?" "Would they grow?" "Surely they would grow, but you should put bits of stone or crock in the bottom of the box, then a little good earth." "What for?" "What for? Because the little cuttings may stay in the box longer than the privets, the babies will be older and will wish for more to eat than the sand. Then the roots go down deeper and find it. "I tell you how else you can have flowers in the winter that will not be trouble. You should go out some quite warm day in January when the buds of forsythia and jasmine, or the peach-tree or the apple, begin to swell a very little." "As if they were just beginning to think they might perhaps come out by and by ? " suggested Mary. "Yes, that is the time. Then you should cut some branches and bring them in the house. First you put them in water in the cellar, then you put them where it is light, and after you put them in the warm sunshine ; and soon you have the fine jar of lovely yellow flowers or of pink or what you will. That, also, is easy." 234 MARY'S GAKDEN AND HOW IT GEEW "And then it will be time to plant seeds in boxes, and then we '11 dig my flower-beds. The gardening hardly stops any time, Mr. Trommel ! " she said. "No," he answered; "and when we think the plants are but sleeping, the bulbs are making their roots down there in the dark." "And then the Mother Earth is teaching the plants how to act when they come up, so the roots will know what to eat to make all the different colors ; because in the summer, when they are so busy, they might not have time. Don't you think so?" "Perhaps, Liebchen; we know little of what goes on down there. The Mother Earth is a very fine housekeeper; she lets nothing go to waste. The plant-children are very wise. She may save the time, as you say." "I think so," said the under-gardener. o ifi .0; nrr jjf CHAPTER XXIX PLANTING TREES [November]