English, for he had improved much in the last five years, and said
the boys did it.
“This great gardener gave a dozen or so of little plots to one of his
servants, and told him to do his best and see what he could raise.
Now this servant was not rich, nor wise, nor very good, but he
wanted to help because the gardener had been very kind to him in
many ways. So he gladly took the little plots and fell to work. They
were all sorts of shapes and sizes, and some were very good soil,
some rather stony, and all of them needed much care, for in the
rich soil the weeds grew fast, and in the poor soil there were many
stones.”
“What was growing in them besides the weeds, and stones?” asked
Nat; so interested, he forgot his shyness and spoke before them all.
“Flowers,” said Mr. Bhaer, with a kind look. “Even the roughest,
most neglected little bed had a bit of heart’s-ease or a sprig of
mignonette in it. One had roses, sweet peas, and daisies in it,” here
he pinched the plump cheek of the little girl leaning on his arm.
“Another had all sorts of curious plants in it, bright pebbles, a vine
that went climbing up like Jack’s beanstalk, and many good seeds
just beginning to sprout; for, you see, this bed had been taken fine
care of by a wise old man, who had worked in gardens of this sort
all his life.”
At this part of the “arrygory,” Demi put his head on one side like
an inquisitive bird, and fixed his bright eye on his uncle’s face, as
if he suspected something and was on the watch. But Mr. Bhaer
looked perfectly innocent, and went on glancing from one young
face to another, with a grave, wistful look, that said much to his
wife, who knew how earnestly he desired to do his duty in these
little garden plots.
“As I tell you, some of these beds were easy to cultivate, that
means to take care of Daisy, and others were very hard. There was
one particularly sunshiny little bed that might have been full of
fruits and vegetables as well as flowers, only it wouldn’t take any
pains, and when the man sowed, well, we’ll say melons in this bed,
they came to nothing, because the little bed neglected them. The
man was sorry, and kept on trying, though every time the crop
failed, all the bed said, was, ‘I forgot.’ ”
Here a general laugh broke out, and every one looked at Tommy,
who had pricked up his ears at the word “melons,” and hung down
his head at the sound of his favorite excuse.
“I knew he meant us!” cried Demi, clapping his hands. “You are
the man, and we are the little gardens; aren’t we, Uncle Fritz?”
“You have guessed it. Now each of you tell me what crop I shall
try to sow in you this spring, so that next autumn I may get a good
harvest out of my twelve, no, thirteen, plots,” said Mr. Bhaer,
nodding at Nat as he corrected himself.
“You can’t sow corn and beans and peas in us. Unless you mean we
are to eat a great many and get fat,” said Stuffy, with a sudden
brightening of his round, dull face as the pleasing idea occurred to
him.
“He don’t mean that kind of seeds. He means things to make us
good; and the weeds are faults,” cried Demi, who usually took the
lead in these talks, because he was used to this sort of thing, and
liked it very much.
“Yes, each of you think what you need most, and tell me, and I will
help you to grow it; only you must do your best, or you will turn
out like Tommy’s melons, all leaves and no fruit. I will begin with
the oldest, and ask the mother what she will have in her plot, for
we are all parts of the beautiful garden, and may have rich harvests
for our Master if we love Him enough,” said Father Bhaer.
“I shall devote the whole of my plot to the largest crop of patience