Natalie: A Garden Scout

by Lillian Elizabeth Roy

  CHAPTER VI--NATALIE BEGINS HER PLANTING

  The singing of the birds, nested in the old red maple tree thatovershadowed the house on the side where Natalie's room was, roused herfrom the most restful sleep she had had in months. No vibration ofelectricity such as one constantly hears and feels in the city, noshouting of folks in the streets, no milkman with his reckless bangingof cans, no steamboat's shrieks and wails such as one hears when livingon the Drive, disturbed the peace and quietude of the night in thecountry.

  "Oh my! I hope I haven't overslept," thought Natalie, as she sat up,wide awake. She looked at the clock on the table and could scarcelybelieve it was but five minutes of five.

  "Why, it feels like eight to me!" she said to herself, as she sprangfrom bed and ran to sniff the delightful fresh air that gently waved thecurtains in and out of the opened windows.

  "I'm going to surprise Jimmy! I'll be dressed and out in the gardenbefore she wakes up," giggled the girl, hastily catching up herbath-towel and soap, and running stealthily along the hall to thebathroom.

  But her plans were not realized, because Mrs. James was up anddown-stairs before Natalie ever heard the birds sing. She sat on thepiazza sorting some bulbs and roots she had brought from the city in hertrunk.

  After Natalie was dressed, she tiptoed to Mrs. James' door and turnedthe knob very quietly so the sleeper should not awake. But she found thebed empty and the room vacated.

  Down-stairs she flew, and saw the side door open. She also got a whiffof muffins, and knew Rachel was up and preparing an early breakfast. Outof the door she went, and stood still when she found Mrs. James workingon queer-looking roots.

  "When did you get up?" asked she, taken aback.

  "Oh, about quarter to five. When did you?" laughed Mrs. James.

  "I woke ten minutes later, but I wanted to s'prise you in bed. I went inand found the room empty," explained Natalie. "What sort of vegetablesare those roots?"

  "These are dahlia roots, and they will look fine at the fence-line, overthere, that divides the field from our driveway. Do you see these driedsticks that come from each root? Those are last year's plant-stalks. Weleave them on during the winter months, so the roots won't sprout untilyou plant them. Now I will cut them down quite close to the root beforeI put them in the ground."

  As she spoke, Mrs. James trimmed down the old stalks to within an inchof the root, then gathered up her apronful of bulbs and roots and stoodready to go down the steps.

  "Do you wish to help, Natty? You can bring the spade and digging forkthat Rachel placed outside the cellar door for me."

  Natalie ran for the tools and hurried after Mrs. James to the narrowflower bed that ran alongside the picket fence. A ten-inch grass-borderseparated this flower bed from the side door driveway, making the placefor flowers quite secure from wheeltracks or unwary horses' hoofs.

  The dahlia roots were planted so that the tip edge of the old stalksbarely showed above the soil. Then the bulbs were planted: lily bulbs,Egyptian iris, Nile Grass, and other plants which will come up everyyear after once being planted.

  "There now! That is done and they are on the road to beautifying ourgrounds," sighed Mrs. James, standing up and stretching her arm muscles.

  "After all I've said, you were the first one to plant, anyway,"complained Natalie.

  "Not in the vegetable garden! And flowers are not much account when onehas to eat and live," laughed Mrs. James.

  A voice calling from the kitchen door, now diverted attention from theroots and bulbs. "I got dem muffins on de table an' nice cereal ready todish up," announced Rachel.

  "And we're ready for it, too!" declared Natalie.

  During the morning meal, Mrs. James and her protegee talked of nothingbut gardening, and the prospects of an early crop. To anyone experiencedin farming, their confidence in harvesting vegetables within a fortnightwould have been highly amusing. But no one was present to reflect asmuch as a smile on their ardor, so the planning went on.

  It was not quite seven when Farmer Ames drove in at the side gate andpassed the house. Natalie ran out to greet him and to make sure he hadbrought the plough in the farm wagon.

  "Good-morning, Mr. Ames. How long will it be before you start theploughing?" called Natalie, as the horse was stopped opposite the sidedoor.

  "Good-mornin', miss. Is Mis' James to home this mornin'?" asked thebe-whiskered farmer, nodding an acknowledgment of Natalie's greeting.

  "Here I am, Mr. Ames. Both of us are ready to help in the gardening inwhatever way you suggest," said Mrs. James, appearing on the porch.

  "Thar ain't much to be helped, yit, but soon's I git Bob ploughin',you'se kin go over the sile and pick out any big stones that might turnup. Ef they ain't taken out they will spile the growin' of the plants bykeepin' out light and heat."

  Natalie exchanged looks with her companion. Neither one had ever thoughtof such a possibility.

  "What shall I use for them--a rake?" asked Natalie.

  "Rake--Nuthin'! all its teeth would crack off ef you tried to drag a bigrock with it. Nop--one has to use plain old hands to pick up rocks andcarry them to the side of the field."

  "Maybe we'd better wear gloves, Jimmy," suggested Natalie in a whisper.

  "Yes, indeed! I'm glad we brought some rubber gloves with us in case ofneed in the house. I never dreamed of using them for this," returnedMrs. James.

  She turned and went indoors for the gloves while Farmer Ames drove on tothe barns. Natalie followed the wagon, because she felt she could notafford to lose a moment away from this valuable ally in the new plan ofwork.

  "Mr. Ames, as soon as our garden is ploughed, can it be seeded?" askedshe, when the farmer began to unhitch the horse.

  "That depends. Ef your sile is rich and fertile, then you'se kin plantas soon as it is smoothed out. First the rocks must come out, then theground is broken up fine, and last you must rake, over and over, untilthe earth is smooth as a table."

  "What plants ought I to choose first? You see it is so late in theseason, I fear my garden will be backward," said Natalie.

  "Nah--don't worry 'bout that, sis," remarked the farmer. "Becus we had acold wet spring and the ground never got warm enough fer seeds until tendays ago. Why, I diden even waste my time and money tryin' out any seedstill last week. I will gain more in the end because the sun-rays arewarm enough this month to show results in my planting. Ef I hed seededall my vegetables in that cold spell in May they would hev laid dormantand, mebbe, rotted. So you don't need to worry about its bein' late thisyear. Some years that is true--we kin seed in early May, but not thistime."

  "I'm so glad for that! Now I can race with other farmers around here andsee who gets the best crops," laughed Natalie.

  "What'cha goin' to plant down?" asked Mr. Ames, curious to hear how thiscity girl would begin.

  "Oh, I was going to leave that to your judgment," returned she naively.

  "Ha, ha, ha!" was the farmer's return to this answer. Then he added:"Wall now, I kin give you some young tomater plants and cabbiges an'cauliflower slips. Them is allus hard to seed so I plants mine in ahot-bed in winter and raises enough to sell to the countryside ferplantin' in the spring. I got some few dozen left what you are welcometo, ef you want 'em."

  "Oh, fine! I certainly do want them," exclaimed Natalie. "Can I go toyour house, now, and get them?"

  "Better leave 'em planted 'til you wants to put 'em in your garden. Theywill wilt away ef you leave 'em out of sile fer a day er night. Besides,this stonin' work will keep you busy to-day."

  Mrs. James now joined them, and handed Natalie a pair of rubber gloves.Farmer Ames stared at them in surprise for he had never seen anyone weargloves while gardening--at least, not in Greenville.

  As he drove Bob and the plough to the garden-space, Natalie and Mrs.James followed, talking eagerly of the plants promised them by thefarmer.

  "Mr. Ames, you forgot to tell me what seeds to plant first?" Nataliereminded him, as he rolled up his shirt sleeves, preparatory to s
teeringthe plough.

  "Well, that is a matter of chice. Some likes to seed their radishesfust, an' some get their lettuce in fust. Now I does it this way:lettuce grows so mighty fast that I figgers I lose time ef I put it downfust and let the other vegetables wait. So I drops in my beets,radishes, beans, peas, and sech like, an' last of all I gets in thelettuce seed. I gen'ally uses my early plants from the hot-bed fer thefust crop in my truck-garden. I got some little beet plants, and ahandful of radish plants what was weeded out of the over-crowded beds,that you may as well use now, and seed down the others you want. My manis going over all the beds to-day, and I will hev him save what you kinuse in your garden."

  "Oh, how good you are! I never knew strangers in the country would actlike your own family!" exclaimed Natalie. "In the city everyone thinksof getting the most out of you for what they have, that you might need."

  Both the adults laughed at this precocious denunciation of city dealers.Old Bob now began to plod along the edge of the garden-space with hismaster behind guiding the plough. Natalie walked beside the farmer andwatched eagerly as the soil curled over and over when the blade of theplough cut it through and pushed it upwards.

  Farmer Ames was feeling quite at home, now that he was working theground, and he began to converse freely with his young companion.

  "Yeh know, don'cha, thet the man what lived here fer ten years, er more,was what we call a gentleman farmer. He went at things after the rulesgiven in some books from the Agricultural Department from Washerton, D.C. He even hed a feller come out from thar and make a test of the sile.The upshot of it all was, he got a pile of stuff from Noo York--powders,fertilizers, and such, an' doctored the hull farm until we gaped at him.

  "But, we all hed to confess that he raised the finest pertaters, andcorn, and other truck of anyone fer many a mile around. I allus did sayI'd foller his example, but somehow, thar's so much work waitin' to bedone on a farm, that one never gits time to sit down to writin'. So Ipostponed it every year."

  "Why, this is awfully interesting, Mr. Ames. I never knew who the tenantwas, but he must have had a good sensible education on how to run afarm, or he wouldn't have known about these fertilizers."

  "Yeh, we-all ust to grin at him for fuddling about on the sile beforehe'd seed anythin'--but golly! he got crops like-as-how we never sawraised before."

  "I could try the same methods," said Natalie musingly.

  "He worked over the sile every year, and never planted the same crops inthe same places. He called it a sort of rotary process, and he tol' memy crops would double ef I did it."

  "Did he mix in the doctorings every year, too?" asked Natalie.

  "Sure! That's why he sent little boxes of dirt to Washerton--to find outjust what to use in certain qualities of sile."

  "Then I ought to do it, too, hadn't I?" asked she.

  "Not this year, 'cause he said the last year he did it, that now hecould skip a year or two. But you've gotta mix in good fertilizer beforeyou plant. Then you'se kin laff at all us old fogy farmers what stick toold-fashioned ways."

  Farmer Ames laughed heartily as if to encourage his young student, andto show how she might laugh after harvesting. Natalie gazed at him witha fascinated manner, for his lower lip had such a peculiar way of beingsucked in under his upper teeth when he laughed. Not until Mrs. Jamesexplained this, by saying that Farmer Ames had no lower teeth, did shelose interest in this mannerism.

  "I know all about the tools a farmer has to use in his work, Mr. Ames,"bragged Natalie.

  "Oh, do yeh? Wall then, you kin get the rake and hoe, and fix up thesile where the plough is done turned it up."

  Natalie remembered the paragraph in "Scouting for Girls" and asked:"Shall I bring the spade, too?"

  Just then, Mr. Ames stubbed his toe against a large stone that had beenturned out of its bed. He grumbled forth: "Better git a pickaxe andcrowbar."

  "My book didn't mention crowbars and pickaxes, Mr. Ames, so I don't knowwhat they are," ventured Natalie modestly.

  "Every farmer has to have a pick and crow on hand in case he wants todig fence-post holes, er move a rock--like the one I just hit."

  "Oh! But our fences are all made."

  "So are the rocks! But they ain't moved. Better go over the plougheddirt and find 'em, then git them outen the garden."

  Natalie began to hunt for stones, and as she found any, to carry themover to the fence where she threw them over in the adjoining field. Thiswas not very exciting pastime, and her back began to ache horribly.

  Mrs. James, who had lingered behind, now joined Natalie and exclaimed insurprise, "Why, I thought you said the old tenant was so particular withhis garden? He should have removed all these stones, then."

  "This section was used fer pertaters an' corn every other year, an' somestones is good to drain the sile fer them sort of greens. But fer smalltruck like you'se plan to plant here, the stones has to get out."

  Mrs. James assisted Natalie in throwing out stones which turned up underthe plough-blade, and when that section of the garden was finished, Mr.Ames mopped his warm brow and looked back over his work withsatisfaction.

  "Ef you'se want to plant corn over in that unused spot alongside thefield, it will be a fine place to use. It is not been used fer years fertruck."

  "It looks awfully weedy. Maybe things won't grow there," venturedNatalie.

  "Hoh, them's only top-weeds what can be yanked out. The sile itself isgood as any hereabouts."

  "Well, then, Mr. Ames," said Mrs. James, "you'd better plough thatsection, too, for the corn or potatoes."

  So the rough part of the ground by the fence-line was ploughed up, butthe quantity of stones found in the soil was appalling to Natalie. Mr.Ames chuckled at her expression.

  "Don't worry about seein' so many, 'cuz you only has to pick out onestone at a time, you know. Ef you does this one at a time, widdoutthinkin' of how many there seem to be afore your eyes, you soon git themall out an' away."

  "I see Mr. Ames is a good moralizer," smiled Mrs. James.

  He nodded his head, and then suggested that he visit the barnyard to seeif any old compost was left about by the former tenant. If so, it wouldbe a good time to dig it under in the ploughed soil.

  "Oh, I want to go with Mr. Ames, Jimmy, to see just what compost heconsiders good," exclaimed Natalie, dancing away.

  Mrs. James watched her go and smiled. The tonic of being in the countryand working on the farm was beginning to tell already. Before sheresumed her task of picking up stones, however, the clarion voice ofRachel came from the kitchen porch.

  "Hey, Mis' James! I'se got lunch all ready to eat!"

  As the lady was well-nigh starved because of the early breakfast and thework in the earth, she sighed in relief. Now she would have a spell inwhich to rest and gain courage to go on with the stoning. This showedthat it was not interesting to Mrs. James, but she was determined tocarry it through.

  Natalie ran indoors soon after Mrs. James and went to the dining-roomwhere the luncheon was served. She was so eager to tell what Farmer Amestold her that she hardly saw that Rachel had prepared her favoritedessert--berry tarts.

  "Jimmy, Mr. Ames knows more about farming and soil than books! He says amixed compost from the stables and barnyard makes the best of allfertilizers."

  "His logic sounds plausible, Natty, but we haven't any such compost touse, and perhaps never will have if we wish to use it from our ownbarns," said Mrs. James regretfully.

  "But Mr. Ames said he could sell us some of that grade compost, if weneeded any. He says he does not believe our soil needs fertilizing thisyear, as it is so rich already."

  "That is splendid news, as it will save us much time in seeding, too,"returned Mrs. James.

  "I wanted to show him that I knew something about composts, so I toldhim about what I read in the book for Scouts last night:--that one coulduse a commercial fertilizer if one had no barnyard manure available. Helooked at me amazed, and I explained that many farmers used four-partsbone-dust to one
part muriate of potash and mixed it well. This wouldfertilize a square rod of land. I felt awfully proud of myself as Ispoke, but he soon made me feel humble again, by saying, 'Do you spreadit out on top of the ground after the seed is in, Miss Natalie, or doyou put it under the sile to het up the roots?'"

  Mrs. James laughed and asked, "What could you say?"

  "That's just it--I didn't know, Jimmy; so I made a guess at it. Ireplied: 'Why, I mix it very carefully all through the soil'--and Jimmy!I struck it right first time!" laughed she.

  Mr. Ames had finished his dinner (so he called it) long before Natalieand her chaperone, and when they started to leave the house they foundthat he was hard at work removing the rest of the stones from theploughed ground.

  "Oh, I'm so glad of that, Jimmy!" cried Natalie, as she watched thefarmer at work.

  "Well, to tell the truth, Natalie, I'm not sorry to find that job takenfrom us," laughed Mrs. James. "I found it most tiresome and with noencouragement from the stones."

  "Let's do something else, Jimmy, and let Mr. Ames finish thestone-work," suggested Natalie, quickly. Just then Rachel came out onthe back steps of the kitchen porch.

  "Mis' James, Farmeh Ames say foh you-all to drive ole Bob back to hishouse en' fetch a load of compos' what he says is back of his barns. Hisman knows about it. Den you kin brung along dem leetle plants what isweeded out of his garden and keep 'em down cellar fer to-night."

  Natalie felt elated at this novel suggestion of work, thereby freeingthem both from the irksome task of stoning the garden. And Mrs. Jameslaughed as she pictured herself driving the farm-wagon on the countyroad where an endless stream of automobiles constantly passed.

  But she was courageous, and soon the two were gayly chattering, as Bobstumbled and stamped along the macadam road. Above the clatter of loosewheels and rattling boards in the floor of the old wagon, the merrylaughter of Natalie could be heard by the autoists, as they passed the"turn-out" from Green Hill Farm.

  Having reached the Ames's farm and found the handy-man who would load upthe barnyard compost in the wagon for them, Natalie asked him manyquestions that had been interesting her.