Gill always grew poetic over his vegetables, there was nothing common-place to him in the garden plat that was thick with the variety of growth. His soul could feel the sublime mysteries all about him, and from the time that he put spade or plow into the earth, at early spring, until he gathered in the late ripe harvest, he was filled with wonder at the silent work that was going on. He thought it such an honor that the unseen Power, who gives the increase, should make him a co-worker. A co-worker with God! It was a great thought with Gill, as he intelligently planted and watered. He did not say to himself,—“God could do all this without me. I am not worthy to be his helper.” He knew that the truest humility is to do exactly what we are told to do by one high in authority and office; so he did his part faithfully, and was blessed in it.
“Shall you pull any parsnips to-day?” asked Ben.
“Yes, parsnips, and cabbages, and turnips. Mrs. Beth likes variety, and there is a call for all now.”
Gill had time enough to loiter over his work and amuse the little people, since there was no haste now lest the fruits and vegetables should decay before he could get them off his hands.
“What are you doing?” asked Ben, as the Scotchman took out his knife, and began to scrape away and whittle upon a parsnip.
“We shall see. Wait awhile,” said Gill. The children were curious to know what would come from his skillful hand, and, presently he delighted them with a cluster of white roses,—the petals curling one over the other so naturally and gracefully that the little bunch of flowers would have deceived almost any body in the world into thinking them real roses.
“These are for Sally,” said Gill.
“Oh, thank you! I will give them to mamma for the blue vase on the bracket, she will be so pleased.”
Sally always thought of mamma, the very first thing, when she had any pleasure. That was but fair since mamma’s first thought was always of her little girl, when her own heart was made glad in any way. If we dearly love any body, we must share with that person every joy.
“I will make something for Ben, now,” said Gill. “He can have some fun with it this evening.”