It was but a minute before he handed a perfect imitation of a candle to the lad.
“You must blacken the wick as if it had been burnt,” said Gill, “and give it to Lucy to light for you before you go to bed. How she will wonder why the thing is so slow in catching!”
“You are very good to think of our sport; it will be real fun,” said Ben, putting the candle safely into his deep pocket.
“Now for work,” said Gill, pulling at the parsnips that came quickly out of their dark bed-room.
“When these grow wild,” said he, “the leaves and stem are hairy; but when cultivated they are smooth, and the root is sweeter, and larger. The flower is yellow. We use the parsnip as we do the carrot, more for cattle than for the table. It makes the cows’ milk richer, and gives a fine color and flavor to the butter. All domestic animals—cows, oxen, and horses, like it; and people think it very nice when it is boiled, and then fried brown in butter. The parsnip is not afraid of Jack Frost. It bears the cold nicely, and is not hurt by the winter, if it is left in the ground. There’s a species called ‘the rough parsnip,’ that is a native of the Levant, and grows wild in the south of Italy, France and Greece. From it we obtain a gum resin, called by the druggists ‘opopanax,’ and used by the doctors as a medicine.”
CHAPTER XII. THE CHILDREN’S GUESTS
MR. and Mrs. Reed came out to see what Gill and the children were about. Mr. Reed was at home for the day, which was not a very frequent event, and it was quite a treat to him to leave all thought of his ledger behind him, and live for a few free hours amid the things of nature, that lead the mind to higher thoughts than are begotten by business speculations, and accounts. The parents stood a little aloof, and heard what Gill was talking about.
“We owe much to this intelligent Scotchman,” said Mrs. Reed. “He has taught the children so many things from this garden book, that would have lost half their interest if they had been printed upon paper.”