JACK'S ALL-ROUND GARDEN
Just as soon as the ground was workable Jack set his coldframe. He chose a southern exposure, back of the barn, so that the frame should sit up against the stone foundation of the building. First he dug down about a foot deep. As he dug, he knocked up the lumps and picked out the stone. Then he went to the barn and got a barrow load of horse manure, not fresh, but old, rotted manure. This he very carefully mixed in with the soil already made fine.
"Now I shall put the frame on. Come, Elizabeth, and give me a lift with this." After some tugging the frame was set.
"I thought frames were usually sunk in the ground," commented Elizabeth.
"I shall do that this fall and make a real hotbed out of it. You see this spring I just want to give my seeds a little extra start. That's why I made the soil so rich and so deep. Now I am going to bank the frame about with manure. Then I shall put dirt over that. You see I get some extra heat that way. Just see the fine slope of the glass. I guess Old Sun will get caught all right."
Jack busily banked the frame, spanking the fertilizer down hard with the back of his spade. He sloped it up some four inches along the sides and front.
"Now I am going to make drills for my seed. In the first partition I shall plant lettuce and tomato; then pepper and onion go in, and the third is for flower seed." Jack bent over the frame, and began to scratch lengthwise of the beds with the edge of his trowel. Red-faced from bending over, and hot from his former exertion, his trouser knees covered with earth and manure, he stood off and looked at his work.
"I'm precious glad Elizabeth has gone, for if those aren't the worst, crookedest old rows I ever saw."
And so they were. They were all distances apart, of different depths and entirely untidy-looking.
Jack picked up his rake and again raked the little beds over, so that no trace of his poor work was left. Then he found a board which stretched across the frame widthwise, so that he could kneel upon this and work to advantage in the bed. He next whittled out two little pointed sticks to act as stakes, and tying to these a piece of cord just the right length for the drills, he was ready for work. With one stake stuck in the bed at the upper end, the other at the lower, the cord between gave Jack a good string line for the drill. Then, with the end of a small round stick held close against the taut line, the drill was made. So he continued making drills at distances of four inches apart.
Pouring out some lettuce seed in his hand, Jack began to sprinkle it rather unevenly in the first little drill. Elizabeth, having returned, stood by watching and shaking her head. "I didn't know you were here. You make me nervous," began Jack.
"I feel more nervous than you possibly can, for you are wasting seed and sowing in a poor way. See, here you have a little pile of seed, and there you have none," and Elizabeth bent eagerly over the bed.
"Well, if you think you can do better, just try this next drill." Jack straightened up, and gave way to Elizabeth.
"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.