Lattice Shade Frame
Instead of using cheese-cloth, laths are fastened to the upright stakes to form a “lattice.”
“I think the cheese-cloth frame would be less trouble to make.” Eleanor was much interested.
“All right, then,” said Billy. “We’ll expect you to have your part ready in time.”
“Do you leave the cheese-cloth, or the lattice shade frame over them all winter?” asked Mary Frances.
“No.” Billy shook his head. “After the little plants are about three inches high, you remove the frame, and let them grow with a will. By the latter part of September they will be well rooted, able to live over winter if covered with leaves when the weather becomes frosty, and sheltered from the north winds.”
[CHAPTER LII]
The Money the Children Made
“ELEANOR, if you’re going to ‘market garden’ with Billy and me, you’ll have to get up right away.”
Mary Frances shook her little friend into wakefulness.
“Mar-ket—gar-den-ing?” yawned Eleanor, stretching. Then sitting up, “Oh, yes, I remember now, Mary Frances! How stupid of me! It’s Saturday! My, I’m sorry I overslept!”
“Never mind, girlie, but hurry up and dress. Billy’s already out in the garden putting things in the wheelbarrow.”
They didn’t take much time for making a fancy toilet, and were soon out in the play house garden with Billy.
“Hello, girls,” he called. “Aren’t these green peppers beauties?” holding some up.
“Green peppers!” said Eleanor. “Why, lots of those green peppers are red!”
“Oh, you’re no Italian,” laughed Billy, “or you would know that most green peppers turn red when ripe enough.”
“What else have we to-day?” asked Mary Frances. “Of course we have our parsley, and lettuce, and tomatoes, and ‘pot herbs.’”
“And cabbage, and carrots, and beans, and cucumbers,” added Billy.
“And egg-plants!” Eleanor was proud to be able to add a name to the list.
“All the articles mentioned, Ma’am,” said Billy, pretending to offer them for sale.
“I’ll buy everything you have,” answered Eleanor, “if you’ll sell for a penny.”
“‘Said the piggy, “I won’t!”’” Mary Frances misquoted, “and I don’t blame Billy, for we’ve made lots of money this Summer.”
“Yes, I know,” said Eleanor; “from the times I’ve been out with you selling garden truck, you must have quite a fortune by now.”
“Oh, say——” began Billy.
“What?” asked Mary Frances.
“Why, I was just thinking that since Eleanor was always helping us so much, she ought to share in the profits.”
“Wouldn’t that be fine!” Mary Frances hugged her friend in delight.
“No.” Eleanor shook her head. “If you divide among three, you won’t make money nearly as fast.”
“We’ve done so well that we won’t mind going a little more slowly,” said Billy. “Shall we tell what a pile we have in the bank, Mary Frances?”
“Oh, Billy, you know I’m crazy to tell her!”
“Well,” Billy took a book from his pocket, “last Saturday night we had forty-four dollars and fifty-seven cents, and Mrs. Dailey owes us two dollars and nineteen cents.”
“Oh, Billy, did you two make that much in this short time?” Eleanor could scarcely believe her ears.
“More than that!” Mary Frances exulted. “And we’ve paid Billy back the money we borrowed from his ‘prize money’ for seeds.”
“Let me see. Forty-four and two are forty-six,” said Eleanor. “You may have sixty dollars by cold weather!”
“More likely seventy, Billy?” asked Mary Frances.
“I’ve heard of counting dollars before they were hatched,” Billy laughed.
“Is Nell a partner from now on?” asked Mary Frances.
“Yes,” Billy said, “if she helps, she shares in the profits—but, gee, I wish Bob was here!”
“Well, you know he’s coming soon!” said Mary Frances, “and, besides, you’ll be together the whole school year!”
“Say, you girls get to work!” exclaimed Billy, and they flew to gather parsley, and tiny little red peppers, and thyme, and leeks, out of which Mary Frances made penny bunches of pot herbs, while Eleanor tied some three-cent and five-cent bunches of the parsley.
“Are we ready now?” asked Eleanor as Billy piled the wheelbarrow high with vegetables.
“No, indeedy!” Mary Frances exclaimed. “Now, it’s my turn. Come on out into the front garden and help me gather my bouquets.”
“Let me see the order book, Billy, please?” she asked.
“Oh, yes, Doctor Hopewell wants roses, larkspurs, and baby’s breath; Mr. Courtley asked for sweet peas. As we have only the perennial kind which have no odor, I shall put a sprig of lemon verbena with them. Aren’t they beautiful?” as she began to gather them. “I just believe Mr. Courtley is going to give them to Miss Constance. Last Sunday she wore to church the bunch of tufted pansies he bought of me on Saturday.”
“Nell, you gather yellow flowers to-day. Isn’t that right, Mary Frances?”
He handed her a basket.
“In that,” Mary Frances nodded. “You’ll find scissors inside the play house door.”
Eleanor was soon cutting perennial sunflowers and coreopsis.
“Billy, get some blue flowers to put with the coreopsis?” Mary Frances called after a minute, and Billy began to cut some eupatorium.
“Isn’t this a charming bouquet!” exclaimed Eleanor as she arranged the blue and yellow flowers.
They all admired it, but they voted the pink roses, and larkspur, and baby’s breath the most beautiful of all.
“Now, we’re ready to start!” Billy led off with the wheelbarrow, the girls following with baskets of the herbs and flowers.
“Have you planned to do anything special with the money, Mary Frances?” asked Eleanor.
“Well, for one thing, I shall save a good deal for seeds and plants in the Spring, and Billy says we’ll plant bulbs in the Fall. That will cost quite a little.”
“And we’re planning to make a hotbed and a cold frame,” broke in Billy, who overheard.
“And when we started gardening I borrowed quite a little sum for seeds from my savings account—with Mother’s permission. I have to put that back,” Mary Frances added.
“Money, like all good things,” Billy looked wise, “should be taken care of!”
“Oh, you miser, Billy!” Mary Frances playfully shook her finger.
“Isn’t it strange what funny ideas some people have of how things grow?” remarked Billy. “A city chap at school told me he had always thought that cabbages grew on vines and potatoes were picked off bushes!”
“Well, if he never saw them growing, how could he know?” Mary Frances reasoned after they stopped laughing.
“That’s right!” teased Billy. “Stand up for him.”
By that time they were in the heart of the village, and had very soon sold everything, for the village people had become accustomed to look for the children.
“Every vegetable you bring is so fresh that we wait to buy of you,” several said.
“Splendid luck to-day,” commented Billy, on the way home.
“Have you saved the things your mother ordered?” asked Eleanor.
“Of course,” answered Billy. “You don’t suppose we’d neglect one of our first and best paying customers.”
“Mother is a dear!” said Mary Frances. “So is Father! They must wonder why they haven’t been invited to see our gardens.”
“When are you going to ask them?” Eleanor inquired.
“Why, don’t you remember? When we give our garden party.”
“That’s to be about the first of September, I believe,” said Billy.
[CHAPTER LIII]
Mary Frances’ Garden Party
“THERE!” Mary Frances looked up from her writing. “That is the last invitation, all ready for the envelope. Eleanor, did you hear?”
“I heard,” her little friend laughed, “but I was so busy putting the last curl to the tail of the address on the last envelope that I couldn’t pay attention.”
“Oh, I am so much obliged to you for addressing them,” said Mary Frances. “Let me see if I’ve thought of every one,” laying them aside as she counted.
“Here is Grandma’s; here, Aunt Maria’s; here, your father’s; here, Bob’s; and last, but very important, Mother and Father’s. Let’s go mail them.”
“What did you say to Aunt Maria?” Eleanor inquired as they walked along.
“I said,” Mary Frances recited:
“Dear Aunt Maria:—
“Please come to my Garden Party next Wednesday. We’ve been industrious enough this Summer to please even you!
“I don’t want to tell you any more, for fear I’ll spoil the surprise, but we won’t have a bit nice time unless you are with us. I’ll never forget how pleased you were with my cooking surprise.
“With love, which I want to give you in real hugs, and real kisses,
“Mary Frances.”
“Mary Frances, do you dare hug your Aunt Maria? I’d never dare, I’m sure. The very thought scares me! She always seems so cross.”
Mary Frances laughed. “I used to feel the same way,” she said, “but after I found out that she was cross just because she was afraid——”
“Afraid? Your Aunt Maria afraid!”
“Yes, afraid, and ashamed that somebody might think she was loving and kind. When I found that out, I felt different. I was sorry for her.”
“I know she loves you dearly,” Eleanor admitted.
“She’s a dear old bear who growls just for fun, and I hope she comes to the party. Grandma will come, I know, and——”
“So will Father and Bob,” finished Eleanor.
“Oh, I can scarcely wait for Wednesday!”
They were at the post office by this time. On their way home they discussed their plans.
“Billy will bring the tables to the play house on Tuesday,” said Mary Frances, “and we’ll all do everything we can to get ready.”
“What shall we have for refreshments?” Eleanor asked.
“Why, I think it would be lovely to have everything from our garden—of course, excepting the ice-cream,” Mary Frances laughed. “I wonder how this would be:
Tomato and Lettuce Salad with Mayonnaise Dressing
Creamed Potatoes
Cucumber Relish
—————
Sandwiches
Green Pepper and Cheese Nasturtium
—————
Ice-Cream
Spearmint Jumbles
Coffee
“Oh, Mary Frances, that sounds perfectly wonderful to me!” exclaimed Eleanor, “but how can you manage to serve so many things?”
“It won’t be hard to manage,” Mary Frances answered, well pleased. “I’ve thought it all out carefully. We can have the mayonnaise dressing all ready for the salad the day before, and can make the sandwiches Wednesday morning if we wrap them in waxed paper.”
“How do you make those sandwiches, Mary Frances?” asked Eleanor.
“Oh, I’m glad you asked that, for they are so good, Eleanor. Use—