He picked at the inside of the largest and most beautiful head in the garden.
“Good!” he ejaculated. “Good! I should think so! I wish I had more!”
“I hope nobody saw me,” he whispered as he looked around. No one was in sight. “Nobody would miss that little peck! I’ll try another head.”
“That’s better than the other,” he said, swallowing the dainty morsel and blinking hard. “I’ll take a little from each of these large heads, and nobody will know anything about it.”
“That’s all I’ll try now,” he decided finally. “I don’t wonder human beings like such stuff.”
He fell to work again and stopped only when he saw Mary Frances and Eleanor come out of the house and go to the hammock. Then he ran near enough to hear what they were saying.
“To-morrow morning,” Mary Frances began, “to-morrow morning I can take in the beautiful lettuce. Oh, Eleanor, such perfect heads. I can scarcely wait one more day.”
“If we hadn’t promised to go over to Cloverdale, we would work in the garden all day to-day, wouldn’t we, Mary Frances?” said Eleanor.
“Eleanor, I believe you love a garden almost as much as I!” declared Mary Frances. “Well, we can’t work in the garden to-day; we must get ready for our little journey.”