“O-oh!� wailed Ruth. “J-just see this lovely one that the plow c-cut in two. It would have been best of all. Isn’t it a pity?�
“These nice little round ones are loverly,� said Sweet William, who was making a collection of the tiny, smallest potatoes. “The little Belgians can play marbles with them first, and then eat them.�
“Alice, empty your basket in the measure and let’s see if we haven’t another bushel,� called Patsy.
“You girls! Make haste and put your potatoes in a bag, so we can have the measure,� urged Steve. “We’ll fill it in a hurry.�
When the last measureful was emptied, it was found that the boys had a half peck more than the girls.
“Yah! yah! Of course we beat you!� cried Steve.
“By measuring all Sweet William’s marbles,� Anne Lewis said scornfully. “Our potatoes are bigger. And anyway you had four more hills on your last row.�
“Yes, sirree! And this is the first crop out of our gardens. You wait till we come to the last,� said Patsy, confidently.
“Our gardens will feed a lot of soldiers,� Sweet William said proudly. “They’ll take care of our Village boys a year—or a while, anyway. Jeff’s such a big eater! We’re all working our hardest; and Scalawag’s helping.�
Sweet William never tired of singing Scalawag’s praises, since by his aid the destroyer of the war gardens had been discovered and punished.