“I shouldn’t wonder if he’d do it, Tiny; he’s all the time whistling, and he whistles just like a blackbird, so very likely he’ll be glad to learn to sing, too.”
When Jim came that evening, Tiny and Johnny were both in the garden, and as Tiny had not yet met Jim, Johnny introduced them thus,—
“Tiny, this is Jim. Jim, this is my sister Tiny, and she wants to be in our bargain, too. Go ahead, Tiny.”
And so encouraged, Tiny went ahead.
“I have a garden, too,” she said, “but Johnny knows more of everything than I do, except singing, and I thought perhaps you’d like to learn to sing, and if you would, I’ll teach you that, and then, if you think it is worth it, will you just do the hard digging for me? I can do the rest myself, watching you and Johnny.”
A very gentle look came over Jim’s bold face, as he answered,—
“If you’ll teach me how to sing, Miss Tiny, it will be worth as much to me as all Johnny can teach me of other things, and I’ll be proud and happy to take charge of your garden.”
“Oh, thank you very much!” said Tiny, warmly. “What a nice, kind boy you are! Do you mind if I watch you while you dig?”
“Not a bit!” said Jim, cheerfully, “I’m not bashful. But you’d better sit down.”