“All right; where shall we dig?”
Dolly grabbed another spade, and skipping out of the toolhouse, began to dig frantically in the path that led from the doorstep.
“Whisht! now! Miss Dolly, don’t be fer sp’ilin’ me good path!”
Pat was amiable, but the vigorous enthusiasm of these children began to appal him. He was always deferential to his employers, and he looked upon the twins as members of his employers’ family, and so he considered himself under their orders. But he also began to see that he must direct matters himself, if these impetuous youngsters were to have a real garden.
“Well,” he said, “if so be’s yer aunts has give permission, we must make the gardens fer ye. But we must do ’t dacint an’ proper. Don’t begin by diggin’ up me tidy paths.”
“I won’t, Pat; I’m sorry!” and Dolly carefully smoothed away the clefts she had dug with her spade.
“Now, we’ll consider,” said Pat, greatly interested in the plan. “First of all, where will ye be selectin’ the place?”
The twins gazed around, at the various gardens, terrace, woodland, and water, and then Dolly said, decidedly:
“In the woods; that’s the prettiest place.”
“Oh, ho!” laughed Pat. “Why, little miss, ye can’t grow things in the woods! Leastwise, only ferns an’ moss! Don’t ye want flowers, now?”