But this advice had dire results, as Natalie learned, too late.
By sundown the pigs were nicely housed, and the old hens and rooster found comfortable roosts in a remodelled hen-house. The young chicks clustered together in the chicken yard and were driven inside the house by the persuasive “s-sh’s” and waving hands of the concerned farmerettes.
These important matters disposed of for the day and Rachel not having announced supper, Natalie said: “Come with me to see my garden. I haven’t had a moment’s time to visit it lately.”
“I suppose the lettuce is large enough to pull, now,” laughed Janet teasingly.
“No, but I shouldn’t be surprised if the radishes that were transplanted from Ames’s garden were big enough to use.”
The two girls went arm-in-arm down the pathway and when they reached the old box hedge that divided the vegetable beds from the back lawns, they stood for a moment listening to the echo of merry laughter coming from the woodland down by the river.
Then Natalie came to the first garden bed.
“Oh, oh! Look,—Janet! What has happened to my beans?” cried she shrilly, as she stood gazing in horror at what she saw.
Janet gazed, too. The tiny green things that had looked so fresh and pert a few days before were out of the ground in many places, and the soil was unevenly scattered in small heaps. From this havoc, Natalie quickly looked over at the lettuce bed.
“Oh, oh! How dreadful! Look at that garden bed! Why, all the lettuce is cropped off close to the ground. What could have done it, Janet?” her eyes filled with tears and her voice threatened an imminent howl.