Some Ways in Which Plants Protect Themselves

You remember that I told you that the “velvet” fur of the great mullein keeps animals from eating the leaves?

Well, perhaps you’ve never thought of it, but the prickles of the rose and blackberry and the thorns of some trees prevent their being destroyed many and many a time.

“Indeed, I know,” laughed Mary Frances. “No one will ever see me try to pick a wild cactus!”

“Or nettles?” asked Jack, pretending to pick splinters from his hand.

“I hope your garden never has more weeds than we saw when we were over there in the moonlight last evening,” he went on.

“Why, were you in my garden?” Mary Frances was amazed.

“It looked splendid,” beamed Bet.

“We will come often,” Jack added, “and if we never see more weeds than last evening, you’ll be growing wonderful vegetables and flowers.”

“Feather Flop—” Mary Frances began, then she thought perhaps she’d better not mention the rooster.

“It’s about time to say good-bye,” Bet said, “but you need not feel sorry because we will—

Come in the moonlight

To see how your garden grows.”

[CHAPTER XLIX]
Queen’s Lace Trims Well

“HOW lovely that will be, Mary Frances!” exclaimed Eleanor.

“I shall come out some evening to see you, dear fairy folks,” said Mary Frances, “even if you cannot talk with me. Maybe Eleanor will come, too.”

“I don’t believe you’ll know us when you see us. I might come as Jack Frost,” Jack answered.

“And I might seem a Luna moth,” said Bouncing Bet. “But you’ll know we are interested and are trying to help you.”

“Come,” said Jack, “we have a gift for you. Here is a package of wild flower seeds which we hope you will plant.”

“Thank you, oh, thank you!” Both the girls were delighted.

“There’s only one condition with our gift; you must never tell anyone about us! If you do, not a seed will grow.”

“Oh!” The tears came into Mary Frances’ eyes. “Not Mother?” she asked.

“Would the Queen let them tell her mother?” Jack turned to Bet.

“Yes,” said Bet, “because her mother believes in fairies.”

“Indeed she does!” Mary Frances was enthusiastic. “She knows all about the Cooking People.”

“Yes,” both Bet and Jack nodded.

“The Thimble People.”

They nodded again.

“And the Doll People.”

“The Queen of All Fairies sent them, you know,” said Jack to Bet.

“Of course,” Bet replied.

“Now for my party dress,” she suddenly sang out, and with “Excuse me!” ran away.

When she came back she was dressed in the queen’s lace gown, only it was more gorgeous than before, for it sparkled with a thousand jewels.

She picked up her dainty pink skirt and began to dance.

“Isn’t my dress pretty?” she asked.

“Queen’s lace trims well,” she laughed. “Come, Jack!” And together they danced in mid-air, treading on nothing.

“Good-bye, dear girls,” they sang. “Good-bye, little gardeners! Good luck! Remember the fairies will be watching your gardens!”

Just then Mary Frances noticed a big soap bubble floating toward the little dancers. Nearer and nearer it came, and stopped in front of them.

Jack opened a door in the soap bubble, and in they stepped.

“Good-bye,” cried Bouncing Bet, as Jack closed the door.

“Good-bye!” cried the girls. “Good-bye, kind, lovely fairy folks!”

Jack and Bet threw kisses to them until the bubble floated out of sight over the tops of the trees.

“Oh, Mary Frances,” cried Eleanor after a short silence. “Oh, it was the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me!”

“Well, so this is where you girls were hiding!” Billy’s voice made both the girls jump. “My, you gave me a scare! Not a bit of lunch tasted, and not a sign of you!”

“Oh, Billy,” exclaimed Mary Frances, “how you startled me! How’s Mother? Could she—could she come?”

“Mother’s all right,” said Billy, “only Father thought best for her not to try to come, and sent me for you girls—Hello! I see you’ve been gathering wild flowers.”

He had spied the flowers that Jack and Bet had let them gather.

“Gee! aren’t they beauties! Did you find them near here? I don’t wonder you forgot your lunch!”

“Oh, Billy—that reminds me—I’m awfully hungry!” Mary Frances said, “and I imagine Eleanor is, too.”

“I’m—I am hungry,” Eleanor spoke as in a dream.

“Well, then, since there are no fairies to bring the lunch baskets to us, let’s go to the lunch baskets,” said Billy, picking up the bunches of flowers and leading the way.

“You’ll need a pail to put these flowers in water,” he said.

When he spoke of fairies, Mary Frances put her fingers to her lips. Eleanor smiled and nodded.

“Let’s spread supper!” said Billy.

“That will make us late getting home, I fear,” Mary Frances parleyed.

“No, sir-ee!” Billy smiled, “Father’s going to drive over for us!”

“Oh, isn’t that fine!” cried the girls, opening the baskets.

They ate as only hungry children can eat.

“Here comes Father—just in time for dessert,” cried Billy suddenly, and all ran to meet him.

They reached home before dark, and were welcomed by a smiling mother.

“Our wild flower picnic was a success after all,” Mary Frances said, kissing her and giving her the beautiful flowers.

[CHAPTER L]
The Wild Flower Garden

THE girls were in Mary Frances’ mother’s room whispering to her the story of their experience with Jack-in-the-Pulpit and Bouncing Bet.

“Wasn’t it wonderful?” Eleanor clapped her hands softly. “Oh, I am so glad I could share Mary Frances’ pleasure!”

“I am as glad as Eleanor,” Mary Frances said. “I wish every girl and boy, too, could have seen and heard what we did!”

“So do I, dear,” said her mother. “Shall you ask Billy to help you plant the seeds of the wild flowers?” she asked.

“If you think, Mother dear, it wouldn’t be a wrong story to simply tell him that we got the seeds in the woods?”

“I think that would be all right,” replied her mother.

“What about Eleanor’s package?” asked Mary Frances. “Shall she keep it until she goes home to plant in her own garden?”

Her mother hesitated. “I may as well tell you, girls. I have a wonderful surprise for you, myself.”

“Oh, do tell us!” they cried.

“Sit down, then,” she said, and they took their low chairs to her knee.

“This is my secret. Our dear old friend, Eleanor’s father, has to go away on business—maybe he will be gone a year—and Eleanor is to come live with us.”

“Oh, how lovely!” cried Mary Frances, throwing her arms about her friend’s neck and kissing her.

Tears came into Eleanor’s eyes.

“I’m so glad,” she said. “I shall miss Father terribly, but if you and Mary Frances’ father just adopt me for a while, it will be something like having my own dear father and mother. What about Bob? Do you know where he is to be?”

“Yes, dear child,” smiled Mary Frances’ mother; “that is another pleasant surprise. Bob is to go away to school with Billy.”

“Oh, will he study gardening?” cried Eleanor.

“He will, if he wishes, your father said.”

“Isn’t that grand!” Eleanor was enthusiastic—then her face suddenly clouded.

“When will Father go?” she asked.

“Not until the middle of September, Eleanor. He and Bob are to come visit us the first of the month, and you are to be with us from now on.”

“You’re to be my sister!” Mary Frances laughed.

“And you may call me Mother, if you wish, dear,” added Mary Frances’ mother.

“Oh, it seems so cozy and lovely!” sighed the little girl.

“Well, now, my girlies, since the secrets are told, why not get Billy to help you plant the wild flower seeds?”

“All right!” they cried, jumping up and kissing her before they ran away.

“Oh, Billy! Billy!” they shouted as they saw him in the garden.

“Here come ‘our twins’,” laughed Billy, turning toward his father. “I wonder what’s up.”

“Hello, girls,” he answered as they came near. “What can we do for you?”

“Oh, Billy, and Father, have you heard the news? Of course you have! Eleanor is to be my sister, and yours, Billy, and she’s to call Father, Father; and Mother, Mother; aren’t you, dear?” said Mary Frances, kissing Eleanor, who smiled shyly.

“Whew!” exclaimed Billy. “Stop for breath, Mary Frances, can’t you? If Nell were as bad as you——”

“Oh, Billy!” chided Eleanor.

“I guess all that Billy means to say,” interposed his father, “is that we’re all glad that such a good little girl is to come live with us.”

“You’ll have to live up to that reputation, young lady,” laughed Billy.

“And now,” Mary Frances produced the packages of wild flower seeds, “we want our brother to help us plant seeds.”

“What kind of seeds are they?” questioned her father.

“Where did you get them?” asked Billy.

“We got them in the woods where we gathered the wild flowers,” answered Mary Frances.

“No wonder I couldn’t find you,” Billy commented. “Where do you think they’d better be planted, Father?”

“Not near a garden of cultivated flowers,” said his father.

“No,” Billy remarked, “for we learned that the cross-fertilization or a mixture of pollen might bring very poor flowers in the garden if wild ones were planted too near, and might also fill it up with weeds.”

“Down in this corner would be a good place, it seems to me,” said their father, leading the way.

“I’ll be with you as soon as I get my spade and fork,” called Billy.

Everybody helped, and the bed was soon planted.

“I know they’ll all grow for Jack——” Eleanor began.

Mary Frances pinched her arm, and Eleanor just caught herself in time.

“For Jack Frost will not get here soon enough to harm them,” finished Eleanor.

“He’ll not be here in time to harm the perennial kind,” Billy said.

“No,” his father took up the thought, “August is an ideal time to plant the seeds of perennials.”

“We have a number of seeds ready for planting.” Billy turned to Mary Frances. “Where are they, sister?”

“In the play house,” replied Mary Frances. “Shall we get them?”

“Yes,” said her father, “I have plenty of time now, and I will help Billy, if he will act as ‘master of ceremonies.’”

“Father, I don’t know such a heap.” Billy’s face colored.

“Well, son,” said his father, “we’ll all appreciate your telling us all you can of what you learned. I know a little theory on the subject myself. I only wish I could have had training and experience in gardening when I was a boy.”

“It’s the most interesting subject in the world, I believe,“ Billy said earnestly.

“Here are the seeds,” cried Mary Frances, as she and Eleanor came with a number of packages.

[CHAPTER LI]
Growing Perennials from Seed

“WE bought,” said Billy, taking the packages in his hand, “only the seeds of the perennials which are easily grown. It’s far better to buy the young plants of the more delicate kinds.”

“I should think so. May we see what you have here?” asked his father, reading aloud the names on the envelopes which Billy gave him. They were—

“Of course,” Billy explained, “all of these seeds could be started in the early Spring in a sunny window in the house, or in a hotbed, and transplanted to the open ground in June; but the advantage in planting them in July or August is that they will get a good start before cold weather, and will bloom the next Summer.”

“Oh, wouldn’t they bloom in the coming Summer if planted in the house very, very early in the Spring?” asked Eleanor.

“A few, such as sweet williams and gaillardia, might,” Billy answered, “but it would be quite uncertain.”

“Do you make the seed bed in just the same way as for any other seeds?” asked Mary Frances.

“Yes, taking great pains to have it finely pulverized. Well, let’s get to work! Father, please tell us what you think is a good place.”

After pointing out a good sunny place, his father helped Billy make the seed bed, and the girls sowed the seed.

“Cover the tiny seeds with just a thin layer of soil,” directed Billy, “but put a heavier cover on the larger ones. The rule is to cover a seed with three times its diameter.”

“Next we press them down firmly,” said Mary Frances, “and sprinkle with water very gently.”

“Good!” her father praised her. “What a fine little gardener you are! By the way, when do we see that play house garden of yours, dear?”

“Oh, Father, that’s to be another surprise!” Mary Frances answered. “You’re to be invited to a Garden Party—you and Mother, and other people, too.”

“Won’t that be fine! I hope you will not forget Aunt Maria,” her father smiled.

“That’s a part of the secret, Father; please, please don’t guess any more! And please don’t tell Mother, will you?” Mary Frances begged anxiously.

“Indeed, I shall not, little girl,” he answered. “I think it is a delightful idea.”

“The bed should be shaded from the hot sunlight,” Billy went on irrelevantly, “until the plants are quite large.”

They turned toward him.

“How’s that best managed, son?”

“It can be managed in several different ways,” said Billy. “For instance, brush may be laid over the bed, but that is not a very good method. A better one is to make a—