Well, perhaps you’ve never thought of it, but the prickles of the rose and blackberry and the thorns of some trees prevent their being destroyed many and many a time.
“Indeed, I know,” laughed Mary Frances. “No one will ever see me try to pick a wild cactus!”
“Or nettles?” asked Jack, pretending to pick splinters from his hand.
“I hope your garden never has more weeds than we saw when we were over there in the moonlight last evening,” he went on.
“Why, were you in my garden?” Mary Frances was amazed.
“It looked splendid,” beamed Bet.
“We will come often,” Jack added, “and if we never see more weeds than last evening, you’ll be growing wonderful vegetables and flowers.”
“Feather Flop—” Mary Frances began, then she thought perhaps she’d better not mention the rooster.
“It’s about time to say good-bye,” Bet said, “but you need not feel sorry because we will—
Come in the moonlight