The next day he set to work to build a big circular fence around his ant hill, working as perseveringly as ever any real shepherd did to get his fold ready, and accepting no help from Rob except allowing him to shave up a board to furnish the “palings.” Then, day after day, while Lora swung in the hammock reading aloud to Rob, little Jim sat perched on his red chair herding his ant-flock.
“I feed them and they eat, but they never drink a tiny bit,” he said.
“The ants find their drink away down in the ground, dear,” replied his mother. “Now tell me what you have learned about your sheep.”
“I learned a greedy lesson to-day,” said Baby Jim. “One ant had some food and he met an ant who hadn’t any, and he divided; then he went on some more and met another ant with not any, and he told him to come over to my chair-leg where the cookie was.”
The family all laughed, and still more at Rob, who asked, “Is Jim going to be an ant-hropologist, papa?”
“Perhaps,” answered Mr. Farnum. “Now, children, I have something nice to tell you. I have hired a man to come and help us improve the back-yard. He will cut the weeds and trim up the trees and bushes, and we can plan the walks and flower-beds for next spring.”
“How lovely!” cried Lora.
“I don’t know about that,” said Rob, with an ugly pucker in his forehead. “It will scare all my bugs away. They like weeds and dirty places.”
“Yes,” admitted his papa, “but next spring you will have to go to the woods for new specimens.”
“It won’t scare my specimens away,” laughed Lora. “I’ve been studying birds lately. You see when I become tired of reading I just lie back in the hammock and watch the birds in the tree-tops. They are so very smart, and they do the queerest things!”