The book said, and so did each little neat packet of seeds, "sow in pots or pans," or "sow in heat," and talked of a cool frame and compost, so, armed with this amount of knowledge, I took my seeds out to old Griggs.
"Griggs, have you any wooden boxes or pans or things in which we can sow these seeds?"
Griggs looked at me suspiciously; he did not like my energy, there was no doubt of that, but since he was a gardener he recognised that flower seeds, or such-like, ought to be in his line.
He took the packets.
"P'haps I can knock up a box or two. That frame's mostly full of janiums, though. I've a nice quantity of them saved."
"But we can't fill the garden with nothing but geraniums, you know. I want to have a great show this year; don't you? Wouldn't it be more satisfactory to you to see the garden looking nice than like a howling wilderness?"
Griggs laughed, positively.
"You've got to spend money if you wants flowers, and the old rector as was 'e never put 'is 'and in 'is pocket for no sich thing as flowers. I dunno 'bout a 'owling wilderness. My fancy is them janiums brightens up a place wonderful."
I pushed open the lights of the long frame by which we were standing and looked at the stalky, unpromising appearance of old Griggs's favourites. There were other lean and hungry-looking plantlets there, a bit yellow about the tips.
"What are those?" I asked, pointing.