Chapter III: Part I: The Garden Club (3)

"Wait a minute," and Elizabeth ran into the house. Soon she came out with some small seed envelopes in her hand. From the bag of lettuce seed--for Jack had bought his seed by bulk--Elizabeth poured some into a small envelope. Then by shaking the envelope she carefully and sparingly sowed the lettuce in the drill.

"I say, that is good!" said Jack admiringly. "Now I'll do some myself."

"I should think you would wish only one more row; then have a row, or perhaps two, to transplant in. For I believe you'll have to prick out the plants before the garden is ready."

"You talk like the real thing, Elizabeth. What do you mean by pricking out?"

"Why, pricking is just lifting out the seedlings with a pointed stick from one row to another, or from a box or hotbed into the outside garden. What else are you going to plant, Jack?"

"I thought I'd put in--say two rows of tomatoes, one row of onions, and one of peppers. In the third partition I'd start asters. I just love asters. So I've made up my mind to make a kind of specialty of these."

"That's fine! May I help?"

"You certainly may, for you are a help."

Elizabeth chuckled away to herself, for Jack evidently was not questioning where she got her knowledge. "It seems to me," she rather timidly suggested, "that it would look more shipshape to label these rows, and put in little sticks where each row begins and ends."

"Well now, that is a fine suggestion." So Jack stuck in some little sticks he got from the woodshed. Elizabeth did not dare offer some nicely made little markers laid away in her desk for future use. She feared those would call forth questions.

Jack brought out a hammer and tacks. Then writing the names of the seeds on the little envelopes Elizabeth had brought out, he tacked one over each row onto the inside of the frame. They both stood off and admired the work.

Warm days Jack opened the frame, at first only a little, and later, wide open for all day. One night he forgot to close it, and a slight frost made a sorry looking set of seedlings next morning. He lost every single plant except a few little asters, which were protected by the inner partition of the frame. These seedlings he watered at intervals all day. This was at Elizabeth's suggestion. By this treatment these were saved. So Jack, sadder and wiser, started over again.

When the lettuce plants had four little leaves Jack, with Elizabeth's help, transplanted some into the drills left for them. When they were larger yet, they transplanted the lettuce to the real garden. This is the way they did it. In the first place the children chose a cloudy day for the work. A cloudy day is far better than a bright sunny one because bright sun is too strong for little lettuces which have been disturbed from their places and put into new ones.

To transplant, dig up a number of plants and plenty of earth with them. Use a trowel for this work, gently lifting plants and earth. A drill may be made; or, perhaps better yet, make holes with the dibber. Pour a little water into the hole. Then gently separate a plant taking as much soil with it as you can keep on its roots. Place the little plant in the hole or drill, and cover the roots with soil. With the fingers press the soil firmly about the plant. Water the earth, not the leaves of the plant. Next day, and for several days, cover the transplanted plants with strawberry baskets. These are far better than newspaper coverings, because light and air freely come through the crevices of the basket. The newspaper makes a covering too tight and close for the tender lettuces. Between plants the children left six inches.

Jack raised Boston lettuce. He not only had enough for his mother all summer long, but sold some, too. The way he happened to sell it was merely an accident. Not far from the village was a large summer hotel. One day the proprietor had driven around to the house to see Jack's father on business. As the men were talking Jack and Elizabeth came from the garden with two fine heads of lettuce.

"Have you any more lettuce than what you can use yourself?" asked the proprietor, after feeling of the heads of lettuce and admiring the good firm centres. "Yes," replied Jack, "I have now, and shall have all along, more than we can use. You see I keep making sowings every ten days in the coldframe, and transplanting."

"I'll take all the extra lettuce you have at five cents a head. That is what I pay all summer long for it. To-morrow bring me up what you can."

"Thank you, sir. Ten heads will walk up to-morrow."

"The first time I've ever heard of heads walking," laughed Jack's father, well pleased with his lad.

But we are away ahead of the story, for we have planted and sold lettuce before Jack has had a chance to really make his garden. The soil in the backyard was very poor, so Jack decided to cultivate only a strip twenty feet long and eight feet wide. He dug out all the soil to the depth of two feet. His father lent him the use of a horse and wagon, and gave him from the barns whatever fertilizer he needed. The digging was a long, tedious piece of work. It was hard, too; but the boy kept at it. Any piece of land can be used if a boy has a mind to work hard over it.

Some of the poorest of the soil was carted off, then into the top of the remaining soil he mixed the old manure. Then into the garden space six inches of manure was spread, and over this was filled in the old top soil and fertilizer, that mixture which he had previously prepared. About one foot of this was put in. Jack's father lent him the horse again and the services of a man. They drove to the Longmeadow Farm and got a load of top soil. Old Mr. Mills said he would give the soil if Jack could answer three garden questions correctly.

"All right," said the boy, "you'll probably knock me over, for I don't know much about gardening, but I'm trying hard."

"Question number one: suppose your backyard had been clay soil--what would you have done with it then?"

"I should have mixed in sand, using about one-quarter the amount of sand as I had of clay."

"Good! Question number two: suppose you had no sand--what then?"

"I'd have used ashes; old clinkers I guess would be best. Everyone has ashes."

"Question number three: what is the object of mixing sand or coal ashes or clinkers with clay."

"The reason is to break up the clay. Clay bakes hard, becomes sticky, and little air or light gets into it. Ash or sand breaks it up. I think that's about all I know about this."

"The soil is yours, young man, I shall be around to see your garden some day. Remember good gardening means working your muscles hard."

"Thank you, Mr. Mills. By the way my arms and legs ache, I guess I know about muscles."

"And remember too," continued Mr. Mills, "that certain vegetables are very closely related and will intermingle. For example, do not plant different kinds of corn close together. The pollen from one kind will fertilize another kind and so you get a crossing which results in a mongrel sort of corn. Melons and cucumbers will do the same thing. And so care must be taken in order that this sort of intermingling does not take place. You see, Jack, that there are many things a real good gardener has to consider. Gardening is not only a matter of soil preparation but it is also a matter of understanding plants and their relations one to the other."

So the good soil was put on and Jack was ready for business. Straight across the back was planted a row of sunflowers. Sunflower seeds belong under the head of large seeds, and should be planted one inch deep and one foot apart. Two seeds were placed in together. This is a safe plan, because if one fails to come up, the other doubtless will come up. If both appear, when the plants get about three inches high, pull out the weaker one.

Then the boy planted a second row two feet from the first one. The first row was planted close up to the fence. Jack found out that this was a mistake. Always leave all about the garden a space of a foot or so, in order that one may walk about freely and get at the rear row of plants without trouble. Again, do not plant too close to a fence, unless the planting be some vine or climbing plant, which you desire to have cover the fence.

Next the aster plants were transplanted. This was done after the same manner as the lettuce. They were placed about one foot apart each way. These were put across the entire spot just as the sunflowers had been. Thirty-two little aster plants were set out and still Jack had a number left over. It is amazing the amount of aster plants one can raise from a little packet of seeds. "I'm going to sell the rest of these aster plants," he declared. And he did. The boy tramped about until he found a lady desiring the plants, to whom he sold 50 little plants for $1 and set them out for 50 cents.

The rest of the garden space was used for the onions, peppers, lettuce, tomatoes and radish.

The onions transplanted from the coldframe gave fine early onions with a mild flavour.

When Jack was making furrows for the sunflower seed Jay came along and leaned over the fence. "Jack," he drawled, "you look like a kangaroo all humped over making that furrow. Why don't you use your hoe right?"

"I thought I was using it right. Come in here and show me how, will you?"

So Jay jumped the fence and picked up the hoe. "Stand this way! Straddle the furrow with your back in the direction you are going to hoe; or else stand on the left side of the furrow facing it. Grasp the handle of the hoe in the right hand near the upper end. The back of your hand should be up. Now the left hand should be a foot or more below the other hand. And see the back of my hand. It is toward the left and my thumb points down the handle, just so with the rake handle."

All summer long the boy worked or cultivated his piece of land. He kept hoeing and weeding constantly.

One of the August pieces of work was to fix the hotbed for winter. Now the frame was taken up and the pit dug deeper--about two feet this time. Previous to this a great pile of manure had been heaped up near by. Jack had sprinkled it with hot water to start fermentation. Steam rising from the heap was proof of this, and it may be used at this time.

Then the manure was put into the pit. An eighteen-inch bed of it was made and firmly tramped down. At first the temperature of this was over one hundred degrees. When it dropped to ninety-five degrees soil was put on. The temperature was taken by means of a thermometer buried in the manure. The frame was placed after two inches of soil had been put in; then four more inches went on. The surface of the soil was made to slope at the same angle as the glass. All about the frame was banked, again, manure covered with earth and leaf matter.

Jack transplanted violet plants into one compartment. These were good violets and were placed four inches apart. In the second bed he sowed foxglove, pansy and stock. The third was left for radish and lettuce, a bit later.

Elizabeth helped him sew together several thicknesses of straw matting as covering for the winter nights. They had decided that newspapers next the glass, then the mats, and finally a rubber blanket, would be protection sufficient.

But Jack's hotbed work is quite another story. However, I can tell you that the next winter he added two other frames to this one.

X

ALBERT AND JAY'S DRAINAGE PROBLEM.

The problem of draining which Albert and Jay had to consider, was perhaps the biggest piece of work that was done all that spring. In the first place, it should have been done in the fall. That is the time to do such work, for if put off until spring it delays greatly the spring planting.

It was a wet spring, too. The boys, rather impatient of waiting, started digging one day, but it ended in disaster. The ground was soft and wet and hence very heavy to handle. This piece of land was one hundred feet wide or deep. It had a frontage of one hundred and fifty feet. A slope rose up in front of it, which accounted for the water being drained onto this land. The water naturally would have run off the land into a brook at the back. But in about the centre was a hollow, and beyond that the ground rose a little, and then dropped toward the brook. The depression made a kind of drain hole and the water settled there all the spring through.

This strip of land of the boys was not by any means the entire piece of land, which was much larger, but the boys' father had given them this largely to try their mettle. He felt so certain they could not do it that he said they might have all they needed from a pile of drain pipe he intended to use himself on a piece of wet land the next fall. "I shall have all my drain pipe left to me," he said to the boys' mother one night. She smiled, for the boys had talked matters over a bit with her.

Myron's strawberry bed was all made, Jack's garden-filling work done, George's ploughing and planting finished, before the boys could lay the drain.

"It's no use," said Albert, "I'm ready to give up."

"Now Savage, there's to be no quitting. I'd be ashamed of you, at least we can surprise father."

"All right, Jay, I'm with you."

Finally the day came when The Chief and the boys started work. A drain pipe should be laid ordinarily anywhere from twenty inches to three feet deep. One may dig or plough to make the trench. It is wise to dig as narrow a trench as possible and so lift as little soil as possible. Then, too, the bed of the drain should slope gradually from the upper or highest point to the lowest. The drop in level should be about four inches per hundred feet. So the boys had to consider just this. This is the way they "sighted" to get the drop in level. They drove a stake into the ground at some twenty feet from the place where the drain was to begin. Previously a cord had been stretched from one end of the centre of the field to the other end. Since the centre of the field seemed to be the place for the deposit of water the drain was to go directly through the centre.

If you ever have a piece of draining to do the problem may not be so simple as this. You may find several natural drainage areas. Then you must lay drains through these. Or instead of separate drains make side ones which empty into a main drain.

Going back again to the "sighting" for the drain bed level--the boys have driven a stake into the ground. It stands five feet above the ground level. If a tree had been in line with the drain line this might have been used and saved driving the stakes. Across the stake, at right angles to it, a board with a perfectly straight edge was nailed. This board was about four feet long, one end pointed at the drain line. At the other end Jay placed his eye looking across this to where Albert had driven stakes.

One stake had been driven into the ground at the beginning where the drain was to be dug; another at the extreme end or outlet of the drain. Albert stood at the first stake and ran a little piece of paper slowly up and down the stake until Jay raised his hand. This meant that the paper was on the same line with the sighting board. Then Albert ran to the other stake and did the same. The difference in these two points gives the difference in level of the ground. Albert measured from the ground to his mark on the first stake, and, doing the same in the case of the other stake, found the difference to be eight inches. This was too great a drop. Then the boys drove two stakes in between these others and did the same work of level finding. From stake 1 to 2, or for the first twenty-five feet there was no difference in level. For the first fifty feet there was four inches drop; for the next twenty-five feet, five inches rise; and the last twenty-five feet, six inches drop. They marked all this on the stakes in order to make sure they got the level right. The bed must, you see, drop one inch for every twenty-five feet. For the first fifty feet of the line the drop was just twice too much; then came the abrupt rise and drop.

Albert ploughed a furrow straight along the line and ploughed back again. Then he reploughed. The boys then began to dig, making a ditch three feet deep right through the land. In order to get the right level they used a home-made device and plumb-line which can be made as follows: Nail the ends of two six-inch boards ten feet long, so as to make a right angle; then across the open end of the triangle, nail another six-inch board having the lower edge about a foot from the ends of the boards. Cut off the ends of the boards on a level, so that they will rest evenly on the ground. Next drive a nail into the apex of the triangle, and to it tie a line long enough so that when the triangle is stood on its legs, the plumb-bob, which you will tie on the other end of it, will almost reach the ground.

The centre must next be determined. To do it, set the triangle up on its legs on a level place and when the plumb-line comes to rest, mark the place. A lead-pencil mark will do, but as it is liable to become obliterated by the dirt, a saw mark is more permanent.

Now you know what the grade of the bottom of your ditch will be. Reproduce this on a level place by means of a board with a large enough block under one end to give the right pitch; put the triangle on this and when the plumb-line comes to a rest, mark the place on the cross piece. Reverse the ends of the triangle to get a similar mark on the other side of the centre or level mark. This makes a level by which a fairly accurate grade can be made.

The tile pipes were laid upon a bed of gravel. This prevents the clogging up of the loosely put together joints. To fit tiles place the small end of one into the large end of the next, and so on. Over the end of the last tile, which emptied into the brook, they wired a bit of rather fine-meshed chicken wire.

Then the trench was filled in. By test Albert had found the soil of this land acid. Lime was to be put on it. Now lime must be in a crumbling state for this purpose. So after they had bought the lime they dumped it in a heap on a corner of the plot. After it had become air slaked, or reduced to a powder by the action of air upon it, it was spread over the lot. This and considerable fertilizer was ploughed in. The boys then had an ideal sort of planting soil for almost anything. The drain actually worked.

Now some boy may ask, suppose a fellow has no tile and cannot afford to buy any. In such a case there are two alternatives or choices. A wooden trough may be made by nailing together boards six inches wide. Then make a gravel bed and tip this trough over on it peak up. The wooden drain, however, is likely to rot. The other way is to put a double row of stones right through the centre of the bed slope. These stones--perfectly flat ones--should be placed on end with a foot between the rows. In this space put small stones.

The chief thing to remember in the drainage problem is that one wants a gradual flow of water from inlet to outlet. Any boy can fix his wet, soggy garden spot even though he has no tiles. Stones can be found surely, and, if no gravel beds are near, all the little brothers and sisters can pick small stones.

The boys had decided on planting what they called a general vegetable garden--corn, pumpkins, beans (bush), melons, tomatoes, beets and carrots. This combination of vegetables was a happy choice as they all can well wait until rather late for planting. The boys used the planting table that Peter had worked out.

<b>Jay's Tile Drain Converted a Swamp Into a Garden</b>]

Many times boys and girls are bothered by the word "hill". I have seen boys make nice little heaps of earth and then make a hole in the top of these like a crater in a volcano. Down into this crater they poke seeds. Now a hill merely means a place. This place is not to be heaped up above the level of the ground. Place five seeds to the hill. Do not, of course, make a little pile of these seeds but lay them on the ground with a little space between seeds, say an inch. When planting beans place the eye of each bean down against the ground. The bean stands up on edge.

The pumpkins were planted in between the hills of corn. This is just the place to plant pumpkin or squash because there is opportunity sufficient for the vines to run. Remember not to plant these two together.

Soon after the pumpkins began to come up the boys noticed one morning that the leaves had been eaten. Some were completely riddled, looking like lace work. Digging about the ground Albert found a black and white striped beetle. Its name is the Striped Beetle. The boys killed these in the course of three days. They bought five cents' worth of white hellebore, which is a powder, and sprinkled it on the ground in a circle about the stems of the young plants. They made the circles some six inches from the plant stalk. Doing this at night, the evening dews prevented the scattering about of the powder. They put this on for three nights. Afterwards sand was sprinkled lightly over the hills and at the end of the runners. This makes a discouraging sort of prospect for the beetle who is hunting for something good to eat, not sand to walk over. If instead of sand they had used lime it would have been better. For the lime is quite likely to form a sticky mass on the legs of the insect pest. The moisture from dew or rainwater helps this along, while sand is far more likely to drop off the victim's legs. The Chief felt sure that besides the beetles there were slugs in the garden. Slugs are very likely to bother. They appear early in the season, feed chiefly at night and after rains, and lay eggs throughout the summer and autumn. These eggs are laid in the ground and in rubbish heaps.

The treatment suggested above and started just as soon as there are signs of slugs, will work. The boys treated their melons in the same way and had no further trouble with beetles and slugs.

The tomato plants were started inside. They were transplanted into strawberry baskets. These are excellent to use, because in transplanting to the ground the little strawberry baskets may be knocked apart without disturbing the plant nearly so much as if it were planted in a compact box. Be sure to line the basket with paper before filling with earth. When the plants began to straggle about and bend over stakes were driven into the ground and the plants tied to these.

Jay used hoops and made a sort of cage for the separate plants. He drove four stakes into the ground at distances of eighteen inches from the stalk and in a circular form. Then slipping hoops over the plant he nailed these hoops to the stakes. Some plants had two hoops about them, some three; it all depends on the size and needs of the plant. Only keep this in mind; that the object in staking tomatoes is not only to keep the plant erect, and the fruit off of the ground, but to allow plenty of light and air to get at all parts of the plant.

The bean culture resulted in a little private contest between Albert and Jay. That winter The Chief had given the boys a talk on inoculation of soil. One day while they were working on their land Jay suggested that they separate the bean section of their garden, having a bean plot at one end and another of the same size at the extreme other end; that one of them should inoculate the soil of his plot and the other should not. These plots being so far removed would not be in danger of soil washing one from the other. Albert, who rather scorned inoculation of soil, willingly agreed to make the experiment, stipulating that he have the uninoculated plot.

By inoculation of the soil is meant introducing into the soil a germ. This germ makes it possible that the nitrogen already in the soil be given to the plant in such a form that it may be absorbed, and absorbed in greater quantities than it otherwise could be.

Jay sent to the nearest State Agricultural Experiment Station, asking for the soil. This was sent free of charge. It was a soil, fine in texture and brown in appearance. According to the directions sent with it Jay spread it evenly over the top of his bean patch. A piece of land for inoculation should be prepared all ready for planting; then the inoculated soil is merely put over this, as frosting on a cake. After this the seeds are planted. They planted bush limas. Of course they had to plant the same kind of bean for the sake of the experiment.

Beans are not hard to cultivate. They should be kept free from weeds and the soil well stirred up. Albert, fearful of his beans becoming affected by spots or anthracnose, sprayed them from the start. This disease is likely to affect beans about July. So in order to get ahead of the inoculated crop the boy did what he later found there was no need of. To be sure beans are liable to this trouble, but it is not a surety. It is never likely to appear unless the weather be very moist. This summer happened to be a dry one.

The spray he used was the Bordeaux mixture. His father offered to supply him with the mixture if he would do mixing for both. So he used this receipt: Dissolve six pounds of copper sulphate in six gallons of water. It is an excellent plan to crush up this chemical in a mortar and put this powder into a bag. Hang the bag up so it just touches the surface of the water. Add twenty-five gallons of water to this. To four pounds of slaked lime add twenty-five gallons of water. Then add this solution to the other.

The boy's father had a spraying machine. So Albert used this. I have known boys to use a corn broom to spray with. Dip this in the spraying mixture and shake over the foliage. The only spraying rule Albert used was to keep the foliage covered with the mixture; this does not mean many applications.

At the close of the bean season Jay had the finer, larger, beans with a better flavour. His yield was one-third greater than Albert's.

"And think, too, how I worked," Albert moaned. "Hereafter I shall not make fun of inoculation."

There is not much more to tell of this garden. The poppies yielded well. These were supported as they grew by stakes, as tomatoes are. Carrots need rather mellow, upland soil. The boys found that their carrots did not do so well as the other vegetables. The soil was a bit heavy and moist for them. They found this out about beets: beets should not be transplanted. Transplanting puts them back. Albert transplanted a few and learned this fact.

XI

GEORGE'S CABBAGE TROUBLES

George had a long task in stone picking. The old slope seemed to be full of stone. George would pick continuously from school to supper time, and next morning declare that new stones had grown in the night.

The ditching was very little work. It meant digging a ditch about two feet deep and then making at either end of this gutter a side ditch at a very severe angle to the main ditch. These side ditches were directed along the sides of the hill for about six feet, and the water thus directed would conduct itself off. Of course the angle was such that the ditch led away from the garden spot.

SLOPE SLOPE
---------------------
/ DITCH \
SIDE / -------------------- \ SIDE
SLOPE / / \ \ SLOPE
/ / GARDEN \ \
/ / \ \

Picture this as the ditch George dug right above his garden. The water passed through the side slopes away from the garden.]

As the stones were picked off he piled them into the gutter, where this stony bottom also helped the drainage problem.

George was a master hand at ploughing, for he had always done his share of it, so ploughing meant nothing to him. First, you will remember George had one foot of dressing to put on the land. This he ploughed in; and then reploughed. After this the slope was harrowed. You all know that the harrow simply makes fine the soil after the plough has done its work of throwing up the earth. The rake is a kind of harrow. Of course, when the garden plot is large, the rake is impossible, and then the harrow, really a big rake dragged by a horse, must do this work.

It took the boy longer than some of the others to do his work, for George did more work at home than the others. He was probably better informed on farm matters, however. His father was a real farmer; the other boys' fathers farmed, too, but not as a business.

Anticipating the amount of time this preparatory work would take he had not started his cabbage inside. To get an early crop of cabbage, seed must be planted in January or February; then one may start in March. But for the late crop plant in the open in May or June. This is just what George did.

He made furrows straight down his sunny southern slope. These furrows were two feet apart. The seed, of Savoy cabbage, was sprinkled in the furrows. This was done after rain. Cabbage needs much moisture for quick germination. George might have poured water into the furrows and puddled or stirred the earth a bit, if the garden had been small, but his was too large for this, so he took advantage of Nature's watering. When the plants were about two inches above ground they were thinned out to stand two feet apart in the furrow.

Cabbage, you know, is quite likely to become infested by pests. Perhaps the most common of which are lice or aphis and the cabbage worm, a green caterpillar. Therefore it is well to try a little prevention. So all over the ground about the plants sprinkle unslaked lime. Tobacco dust or soot may be used for this purpose, too. Good cultivation also helps prevent these pests.

One row of cabbage began to develop worms. These George picked off, but he found that he could not keep up with them; so The Chief advised him to buy a little pyrethrum powder at the store. This he mixed with five times its bulk of dust. Putting the mixture into an old potato sack he shook it over the infested heads of cabbage.

Except for this drawback the cabbage did well. He lost the infested row of cabbage. For he pulled them all up, spaded the ground over, and sprinkled it with the poison mixture. All the other cabbage heads were sprinkled with it, too. One may easily lose all his cabbage from these worms.

In the fall the cabbages were harvested. This was about the last of October. George pulled them up by the roots. He found some of the heads rather soft, some bursting open. As it does not pay to keep such cabbage over, these were fed to the cattle--a gift, George called it, to pay for the fertilizer.

All the fine solid heads are worth storing. In order to get nice white inner leaves, as the head begins to form break and bend over the outer leaves and those that protect the inner ones. It is a sort of blanching or bleaching process. Two hundred fine firm heads were the result of the work of this boy.

"What are you going to do with all these, I'd like to know?" asked Jack.

"I expect to store a number of them--one hundred and fifty, I should say. I'm going to give away fifty. In the winter I hope to sell about one hundred of my stored ones."

George's way of storing cabbages is a good one. A spot was ploughed in the orchard between the rows of trees. Then the cabbages were piled in a neat pile roots up, one cabbage fitting into the other. All about and over this heap a layer of straw about four inches thick was placed. To hold the pile in place stakes were driven in about its base. To hold the straw, branches were placed over the whole and boards put on last. The straw packing kept the cabbage from freezing. If George's father had had a good tight shed the cabbage could have been stored on shelves in this. The ordinary home cellar is no place for storage of cabbage.

Later in the winter he sold one hundred heads of cabbage to the markets in a near-by city. These he sold at two cents per head. They kept fifty at home.

The boys tried long and hard to find out where the other fifty went. But George would not tell. There was an orphans' home some few miles from the village. It seems that at one time an appeal had been made at the school to the boys and girls to give whatever they could to this home. At that time George had nothing to give. No one knew how badly the boy felt, so as his cabbages grew the lad made a pledge with himself to give one quarter of his cabbage to this home. One evening in late October, George had hitched up an old farm horse, loaded his cabbage in, and had driven over to the home.

The Chief learned of his kindness one December evening, when he visited the matron to see about Christmas gifts for the children. She told him that one evening in the fall a bashful lad had brought a load of cabbage to her, but would not tell his name. As the man walked home he thought of the really splendid ending of George's cabbage experiment. After all a garden reaches its real work when some of its product is given to those who are in need.

"Now I see," said The Chief out loud, as he walked past George's house on his homeward way, "why George made out of his garden so much less than the others. I never could understand why he lost the prize. I am glad there are boys who care less for money than for other things."

XII

PETER, POTATOES, AND PROFIT

Peter had a mile to go to his garden, which was on his grandfather's farm. This farm land, you will remember, was especially good.

The ploughing, fertilizing and harrowing were done for Peter. The soil was just the sort potatoes thrive on, a sandy loam. After the furrows had been made about six inches deep and two feet apart, Peter put a sprinkling of chemical fertilizer into the bottom of each furrow. This was sprinkled on as one puts salt on potato before eating it. Over this he placed some dirt so the fertilizer would not burn the potato.

Early the morning of planting Peter cut his seed potatoes. The date was the 1st of April, not a bit too soon to get in early potatoes.

The seed potatoes chosen were fair, smooth specimens of good size. These he cut so that only one eye was left to a piece of potato the size of a hen's egg. These pieces were dropped into the furrows at distances of fifteen inches apart and four inches deep. After covering, the man went over the potato patch with a harrow. A boy might use a rake for this work, but as Peter's patch was a small part of his grandfather's field the harrowing of the whole was done by the man.

When the little potato plants were well up Peter sprayed them with Paris green. This was wise because he thus got ahead of the potato bug. Some one may like to know how to mix up Paris green. The proportion used was one tablespoonful to a pail of water. This was put on with a watering pot every two weeks, thus Peter kept his potatoes quite free from bugs.

Although the rest of the potato patch was cultivated by the horse, Peter used the hoe. He could not plough, for Peter was a rather small boy for his age and not very muscular. The secret of potato culture is to cultivate well and keep the bugs down.

He dug his potatoes about the middle of June. From the one quarter acre his grandfather had lent him for his garden Peter dug seven bushels of potatoes. At the time new potatoes were selling for $1.25 per bushel. His father bought three bushels and the other four were sold in the city to Philip's mother and friends.

The constant working of the soil for potato culture gets it into a fine mellow condition exactly right for celery. Peter's grandfather suggested that the boy put this in, and so have another crop, a fall one.

Although this soil had been well fertilized in the spring for the potatoes this was yet not sufficient for celery culture. Celery ought to be started either indoors in flats, or in a hothouse or seed bed late in February--transplanted to other flats, and again finally to the open ground.

To prepare for the celery trenches were dug three feet apart and one foot wide. The earth thrown out in trench digging was piled between the ditches to be used later in banking up the celery. These trenches were six inches deep. In the bottom of the trench was put some enriched manure. This was of different materials. Peter used well-rotted barnyard dressing, a little hen manure, and about the same quantity of chemical fertilizer. Hen manure is rich, so he did not use the bulk of that. Over this was put an inch of soil.

Celery plants should be set about six inches apart in the trench. First cut them back; that is, cut off about one quarter of the root and one-third of the top. This cutting back increases the spread of root-growth later and decreases the amount of respiration of water from the leaves. The top alone grows more stocky and bulky.

Firm the plants well. That is, press the soil firmly about the roots and stalk. When the plant has received its growth it must be blanched. This process not only whitens celery, but also takes the bitter taste out of it. This may be done in various ways, but Peter used the earth process. He tied the bunches up together with bits of raffia. This was done merely to keep the earth from pressing in between the stalks. Then the earth which had been left in between the trenches was drawn up with the hoe about the stalks until only the top leaves poked out above. Do not do all this banking at once. Take several days at it. Boards may be placed along the sides of the banked celery hills.

Peter having heard of the self-blanching kinds told his grandfather that he would plant this kind to obviate blanching. But there were two drawbacks. In the first place, he had waited too late to start seed. And secondly, these varieties, too, should be bleached to take out the bitter taste. So Peter bought young celery plants from his grandfather. He paid $1 for two hundred small plants. Later in November he sold these to the same market where his potatoes had gone. Fifty bunches he sold to his father. These were left protected in the ground for use when needed. The rest he sold in the city. From his celery he made $1.80. In all the lad made $9.55. This was a pretty good sum to make. So Peter's saying of "potatoes and profit" actually worked out.

XIII

PHILIP'S BACKYARD

On a beautiful Saturday in late April one might have seen The Chief and his boys boarding the train for the city. It was the day set apart for helping Philip.

The boy had cleared up the yard ready for work. You will remember shrubs were to be planted, a walk and cement pond made, and a little gardening done. The shrubs were planted as the school trees were. One must be careful to dig the hole large enough to receive the roots of the shrub. If old shrubs are transplanted be sure to cut out all the old wood, and also cut the top back severely; that is, reduce it to one-third its former size.

It was great fun to make the little pond. Such a pond may be used for fish or for water plants or for both. Do not make too large a one, unless you have a very large yard. The smaller ones are easier to care for, and more pleasing in appearance.

First stake off the outside limits for the pond. Philip's was to be four feet by two and one-half feet. Dig down three feet. Fill in the bottom of the pond up to fifteen inches of the top with large stones. Then in between and over these put small stones so that you have filled in about six to eight inches of the cavity. Now it is time to mix cement. Mix only a little at a time. Get a board about two feet square. With a trowel put on the board one part of Portland cement to three parts of sand. Have a watering pot full of water at hand. Add water enough each time to the cement and sand to make a soft but not running mass. If it be possible for you to have small stones to put in, it will improve the mortar you are mixing. These stones should not be larger than one inch in size. Add four parts of these to the mixture.

Now over the bottom of the pond put on the paste about three inches thick. Fill in with the trowel and smooth it off with the back of this same tool. The sides are the next job. Put a board slantwise against the bottom of the pond so there is a space between the board and the side you are to plaster. Drop the mortar down into this space and press the board against the sides. This firms the mortar. Keep up this work all around the sides of the pond.

Another way to do this work is to make a box that will fit approximately into the pond, but that gives a space all around over three inches from the sides. Then the mortar may be dropped in. After three days knock out the box and you have the inside all right. If you wet the sides and bottom of the box the mortar will cling to it less.

If the mortar looks rather rough after you finish, mix cement with water, take a whisk broom and with this brush the paste all over the bottom and sides of the pond. All around the ground by the pond, mortar for about six inches. This prevents the breaking in of the edges.

Albert and George, who worked on this job, did the mortaring the first way. The pond was left unfilled for a week to dry thoroughly. Then after placing two inches of sand in the bottom it was filled with water. Philip bought two pond lily roots. He tied stones with string on the roots of the plants to keep them down: otherwise they would have bobbed up and floated on the surface of the water. Some one gave him two water hyacinths.

In the middle of the yard a round bed was made. To do this take a cord and tie a stake at either end. The cord should be whatever length you have decided shall be the radius of the circle. The radius of a circle, you remember, is the distance from the centre to the circumference.

Now drive one of the stakes into the ground at the exact centre. Grasp in your hand the other stake and swing a circle with it. The stake will scratch a well-defined line so that you have the outline of the circle, the boundary of the bed.

Jay spaded down to about six inches all along the outlines of bed. After that the bed itself was spaded. Philip insisted on outlining it with brick which had been given him. Some children use whitewashed stones, some use shells. Either plan gives a spotty effect. The idea fails of being artistic. A neat cutting of the turf and a slight heaping up of a round bed toward the centre gives after all a far more pleasing effect. Try to keep as near to Nature's own plan as you can. Shells belong on the seashore or in a collection; keep stones for road making, wall building, cement work and curbs; bricks are for foundations and buildings. Rarely use things for what they were not intended. It is better usually to border a bed with low-growing flowers. Ageratum, candytuft and dwarf nasturtiums are good for the purpose.

Along a walk to an old outhouse they planted asters on one side and four o'clocks on the other. Asters, as all boys and girls know, are better if started inside early. Then they may be transplanted to the outside. In his way one gets a bit ahead of the season.

But Philip was obliged to plant seed for both. So he planted it in a drill as one plants lettuce. Later the little seedlings were thinned out to stand six inches apart. This thinning was done when the plants were four inches high. Four o'clocks need lots of room as they grow bushy.

Plants in narrow strips are quite likely to drop over their limits. To keep these in bounds Philip later built a fence. For this he used stakes driven into the ground at intervals of every four feet. To these he nailed strips of railing. Sometimes cords are used instead of railings.

An old fence was all about the yard and an old unused outbuilding in the rear. These were both unsightly in appearance, so they had to be hidden. Vines were used for this purpose.

About six inches from the fence a furrow was made four inches deep. Climbing nasturtium seeds were dropped into this furrow at distances of every four inches. The seeds had been soaked over night. This was because the ground was very dry and the weather was now quite settled and warm. If the ground is wet and the weather cold, never soak seed. It just adds to the general soggy condition to do this.

Philip's Backyard Made Beautiful by Annuals and Quick-growing Vines.]

Morning-glory seeds were planted along the end of the fence by the outbuilding and all around it. After these climbing things began to grow the pretty effect of the vines was amazing.

Many times one has to train vines so they will grow where one wishes. In such cases drive small stakes into the ground back of where the vine is planted. Tie a cord or string to the stake and carry this up to where you wish the vine to go. The string may be attached in the best way, according to the place. If it is to an old building, drive a nail into the side, roof or peak of this. Some people make latticed trellises. These may be made from laths.

A neighbour gave Philip some canna bulbs which he planted in an old sieve filled with rich dirt. Canna bulbs look much like sweet potatoes. Usually a bit of stalk is left on the bulb. Leave this in planting above ground for about one-half inch. Dig a hole large enough to place the canna bulb and deep enough so the stalk comes above the ground. Place one big, fat bulb, or two or three little chaps in one spot. Leave about one foot between plantings.

In the fall after frost cut off the stalks about two inches above the ground, dig up the bulbs, shake all dirt off, and put into a box with a little thoroughly dry dirt until spring. Leave this box where it is dark and cool.

It would have been far better had Philip planted the cannas either in the round bed or against the fence as a screen. As a general rule the planting in tubs, kettles, kegs and similar receptacles is not only inartistic, but gives the plant very confined and cramped quarters. When possible plant right out in the ground. Window boxes and roof gardening in boxes is "another story."

The cost of Philip's flower garden was 25 cents. He bought five-cent packages of each of the flower seeds. The cannas cost nothing. The shrubs were $1, the cement 70 cents, and the water-lily roots 50 cents. So the total cost for changing an ugly yard to a mass of flowers was $2.46.

Philip's clearing up seemed to be catching for the girl across the street started in with her work. For ten cents she bought a collection of flower seed. These seed were planted in three-foot beds. The beds were banked up or supported by strips of board. This same girl planted flowers in two old kettles and set one upon an empty cask and the other on an old drain tile. But she later decided very wisely that this was not after all so very pretty. Kettles are better for potato boiling than for flowers.

But such a good time as she had all summer in her own green, pleasant backyard! And so had Philip, too! "Just a few cents and some hard work will change your backyard into something beautiful," Philip was heard to say one day to a group of city boys.

XIV

THE CORN CONTEST

Each boy was to take a certain number of hills of corn in his father's corn patch. He was to select his seed corn after a few suggestions given him by The Chief. These hills of selected corn were to be cared for by the boy himself, but it was perfectly legitimate that the soil be prepared for him, since most of the boys were to plant in their fathers' cornfields.

In the growing of corn the first matter for a boy or girl to consider is the selection of the seed. Corn should be selected carefully by the individual stalk; that is, choose ears from stalks bearing an ear or ears at, or a little below, the middle of the stalk.

The stalk itself should be thick and free from suckers or any evidence of disease. The ear should be cylindrical. The kernels should be deep setting, uniform and compact. Then the cob should not be too large. Look at some samples. See how some ears have too large a cob, others too small, while still others show a right amount of cob.