They proceeded to a large patch of ground in the rear of the house, which was devoted to a kitchen garden. It had been sown with peas, beans, radishes, lettuce, onions, early potatoes, sweet corn, cucumbers, and other vegetables. Some of the crops had already been gathered, such as the lettuce, radishes, and green peas; and the others seemed to be in a flourishing condition.
“After we had planted the garden last spring,” resumed Clinton, “father told me that if I would take the whole care of it, I might have one fourth of all the profits. I thought it was a pretty good offer, and so I took it up, and I’ve never been sorry for it yet. The garden has done very well, so far. We keep an account of everything that is raised; and next fall I can tell just how much my share will come to. I haven’t had to work so hard as I expected I should, either. I do a little every day, and the weeds don’t have a chance to get the upper hand of me. That is the way to manage a garden. If I should let my work get behindhand, I suppose I should very soon be discouraged.”
“Mr. Preston told us that you did almost as much work as a man,” said Whistler; “and I think he was about right. One thing is pretty certain: you can’t have much time to play.”
“O, no, I don’t work so hard as a man,” replied Clinton. “It only takes about one half of my time to do all my work; but then I have some errands to do, and my lessons to study.”
“I heard about your studying at home, and reciting to your mother: is that the way you do?” inquired Whistler.
“Yes,” replied Clinton; “our school doesn’t keep in the summer, and, as I have some spare time, I study a little at home. Last summer my rule was to study two hours a day; but this year I have had more work to do, and haven’t studied quite so much.”
“What do you study?” inquired his cousin.
“Arithmetic and grammar, principally,” replied Clinton; “but I write a composition once a fortnight and now and then get a spelling or a geography lesson.”
The boys now proceeded towards the duck-house. This was a small, rough shed; but it answered the purpose for which it was intended very well. It was situated near a small brook, and there was a little artificial pond connected with it, in which the ducks could swim when the water in the brook was low. Clinton himself made both the pond and the duck-house, the summer previous. There were about a dozen ducks in the pond, several of which were very small, being but a few weeks old. They gracefully sailed off as the boys approached; but when Clinton spoke to them they recognized his voice, and wheeled about towards him.
Having visited the principal objects of interest on the farm, Whistler began to manifest some curiosity about the geography of Brookdale. He got a pretty good idea of the natural features of the town, by ascending a high hill back of his uncle’s house. Before him lay a beautiful lake, or pond, as the Brookdale people called it, which looked like a bright mirror set in emerald. A narrow river, glistening in the sunlight like a silver thread, stole along through the meadows towards the southwest. There were but a few widely scattered houses in sight, for Brookdale was only a small farming settlement. On the north and east the view was hemmed in by high hills, covered with trees; but in other directions the prospect was extensive. Clinton pointed out to his cousin a mountain which he said was twenty miles distant. It looked like a faint cloud on the horizon.