But it was something worth while, she reflected sagely, to know that there are three kinds of soil, how to test it with litmus paper to see if it was sour or not, and, if it was, how to neutralize it, or sweeten its acidity. Then she had had to know what kind of chemicals acted as food to the soil, so as to know what each plant or vegetable required to enrich it and to sustain life. She had also learned how to draw moisture from the land and how to fertilize it.
By placing seeds on wet blotting-paper in saucers she had demonstrated how long it would take them to germinate, so as to be able to to write her germinating-table for the girls. How old seeds should be before planting, how deep to plant each kind, the method of planting, and how many seeds to plant, and the distance apart, had all seemed tiresome and trivial things to many, but it was necessary knowledge to a would-be farmer.
Ah, she had reached the bank. She was going to get that ten dollars deposited before it melted away. Suddenly her eyes became pools of brightness, and the dimples twinkled in the red glow of her cheeks, for there, right in front of her, stood Mrs. Morrow, with a kiddie boy, as the girl called the twins, on each side of her. There was such genuine pleasure in the lady’s smiling blue eyes, that Nathalie impulsively cried, “Oh, Mrs. Morrow, this is just lovely! I’m so glad to see you! When did you get back?” for her good friend had been away for several weeks.
“Last night, Nathalie, and I am so pleased to meet you,” was the cordial greeting, “for I have heard so many reports about the Liberty Girls’ club that I am anxious to hear all about it from you.”
“Oh, it is just the dandiest thing, Mrs. Morrow,” cried the girl jubilantly. And then, lured by the kindly interest in her friend’s eyes, her tongue unloosened, and she was soon busy telling about the club’s many experiences, and the good that had come from the industry of its members.
“And Helen is a dear,” Nathalie rattled on, “for she has taught her girls the most wonderful things, and now they have all enrolled as Red Cross members. She had been reading to them from Florence Nightingale’s ‘Notes on Nursing,’ and now she has taken up other works on the same subject. Lillie, too, reads to the girls at the club meetings about great women, while I inspect the work. The Garment and Comfort-Kit squads meet together, and Jessie Ford not only tells them about the French villages and the towns that have been destroyed by the Germans, but reads to them from the ‘Prince Albert Book.’
“We are to have our Liberty Pageant to-morrow, and all the people who live on the line of parade have been perfectly lovely, for they have sold tickets for the seats on their verandas, and are to give the money to us for the Liberty Fund, so we can buy Liberty bonds. And the day after,” continued Nathalie, “we are to have a liberty sale on Mrs. Van Vorst’s grounds, the Pioneers’ meeting-place, you know. Indeed, we are almost over the tops of our heads in work, and we have enough plans to last the rest of the summer. Mother declares I am the busiest girl she knows.”
“And the Liberty Garden, has that turned out well? I understand it is the work of my girls, the Pioneers.”
“Indeed, yes,” returned her companion: “it has been said to be one of the beauty spots of Westport. We have bordered it with nasturtiums, poppies, marigold, sweet peas, and all sorts of old-time posies. But we had a time getting the ground, for this year every one was hysterically wild to cultivate every inch of ground for a war-garden, and nobody wanted to loan any. Finally, however, Edith and Lillie tried their powers of persuasion on old Deacon Sawyer,—you know he’s one of the pillars of the old Presbyterian church, and he let us have an old lot of his on Summer Street, about a hundred feet or so square.
“And how we have worked over it, for of course it had to be plowed. Peter, Mrs. Van Vorst’s gardener,—he’s the kindest-hearted thing alive,—offered to plow it for us, but we declined with a vote of thanks, for we felt that wouldn’t be our work. So Edith scoured the town until finally she borrowed an old nag from the livery-stable man,—he was just ready to crumble to pieces,—and Nita got a plow from Peter, and we plowed it ourselves.