“What are they?”
“Some kind of bulbs. You’d better plant them tomorrow.”
“What’s the use if we’re going to lose the place?” she queried, rather bitterly.
Jack looked at her reprovingly. “That doesn’t sound a bit like my cheerful partner.”
“You’re right, Jack. I’m sorry. I’ll plant them tomorrow, and if we don’t see them bloom, perhaps they will give pleasure to someone else.”
The next morning she selected a lightly shaded spot where the soil looked rich and promising, and began to dig. Before long, her spade struck a large stone.
“Wonder if I can get that out?” she thought. “This is the best place in the yard for unknown plants; for they’ll get a mixture of sun and shade.”
Vigorously she attacked the stone, and after much exertion succeeded in getting it out. Rolling it carelessly to one side, she was busily trying to smooth out the ragged, uneven earth with the spade, when there was a sound of metal striking on metal.
“Jack,” she called to her brother, who was in the house reenforcing a shelf.
“What’s wanted?” he responded, sticking his head out of the window.