"We came to tell you about Sammie," said Mab. "He's out—"
"Hello! Where IS that little tyke?" cried Mr. Porter suddenly. "He was here a little while ago, making believe hoe the weeds out of the potatoes. I don't see him," he added, straightening up and looking among the rows of vegetables.
"He's out in front trying to sell tomatoes," said Hal.
"Oh my!" cried Sammie's father. "I told him not to pick anything, but you simply can't watch him all the while."
He ran out toward the front of the house, Hal and Mab following. They saw Sammie seated on the ground near his express wagon, and he was squeezing a big red tomato, the juice and seeds running all over him.
"Sammie boy! What in the world are doing?" cried his father.
"Sammie plantin' 'mato," was the answer. "Nobody come to my store like Hal's an' Mab's, so plant my 'matos."
Then they saw where he had dug a hole in the ground with a stick, into this he was letting some of the tomato juice and seeds run, as he squeezed them between his chubby fingers.
"Oh, but you are a sight!" said Mr. Porter with a shake of his head. "What your mother will say I don't dare guess! Here! Drop that tomato, Sammie! You've got more all over you than you have in the hole. What are you trying to do?"
"Make a 'mato garden," was Sammie's answer as his father picked him up. "I put seeds in ground and make more 'matoes grow."