NORMA: A FLOWER SCOUT

The hostess would dig up a small plant and place it carefully in the basket.

NORMA:

A FLOWER SCOUT

By LILLIAN ELIZABETH ROY

Author of

“Natalie: A Garden Scout,” “Janet: A Stock-Farm

Scout,” “The Blue Bird Series,” “The Five

Little Starrs Series.”

Endorsed by and Published with the Approval of

NATIONAL GIRL SCOUTS

A. L. BURT COMPANY

Publishers New York

Printed in U. S. A.

The Girl Scouts

Country Life Series

A SERIES OF STORIES FOR GIRLS

By LILLIAN ELIZABETH ROY

NATALIE: A GARDEN SCOUT

JANET: A STOCK-FARM SCOUT

NORMA: A FLOWER SCOUT

Copyright, 1925

By A. L. BURT COMPANY

NORMA: A FLOWER SCOUT

Made in “U. S. A.”

CONTENTS

NORMA: A FLOWER SCOUT
CHAPTER I
NORMA’S LETTER HOME.

“Dear Folks at Home:

“Here I am at Green Hill, just as much at home after a few hours’ time, as if I had been here for years. But, oh, Mother! Such an arrival as we three girls experienced! I wish you could have seen us when we finally reached the farm. How Daddy would have laughed! But you, Muzzer, would have wept at the sight of my shoes, they were so covered with mud. And you would have reminded me that you had just paid fifteen dollars for them, downtown. But it was not my fault—that mud. It was Amity Ketchum’s fault. I’ll tell you about it.

“When Belle Barlow, Frances Lowden and I jumped from the poky local train that stopped at Four Corners on signal only, we looked all around for some sort of a hack to take us and our luggage to Green Hill. We remembered what Mrs. James had told us about the lazy driver who took them to the farm when they arrived, but he was not to be seen when we got there.

“Then we went to the ticket-office to ask the agent about some sort of a conveyance, but the place was closed and not a soul anywhere about the building. We looked at each other and laughed.

“‘There’s but one alternative, girls—walk!’ declared Belle, in her usual calm superior manner.

“The drizzle that was sifting down when we left New York had become a fine rain at Four Corners, making the roads muddy and full of small pools. We had our suitcases and smaller traps to carry, as well as hold up our umbrellas to keep our new straw hats from becoming discouraged and droopy. Can you picture us?

“As Frances remarked after we had hiked for a hundred yards and suddenly caught a squall of wind sweeping over the fields: ‘The luggage acted as ballast and anchorage at the same time, to keep us from flying up in the air with temper.’ Struggling along in spite of handicaps, we finally reached the Post Office store.

“Now what do you think! There sat that lazy Amity Ketchum tilted back in an old wooden chair, his feet crossed on top of a small cylinder stove, discussing present-day politics. If the three of us had not felt so aggrieved, we must have laughed outright at the sight of the solitary hackman in the profession at Four Corners, absolutely regardless of trade, or the difficulties his clients must experience on such a day, with their misplaced confidence in Amity causing them such free exercise as we were having.

“Why will doting parents misname their progeny as this man Amity was named, Mother? He is so far from being amiable that his name should suggest just the opposite of what ‘Amity’ means. We girls learned from the store keeper that Amity Ketchum was the local Jehu, so Belle spoke to him in rather an imperious tone.

“‘Why were you not at the station to meet this train, as we wired you to do?’

“Amity carefully lifted one foot after the other, from the cold stove-top to the floor, and slowly turned around in his chair to stare at us. Then he actually ignored us and replaced his feet on the fireless stove, and tilted back the chair and resumed his discussion where he had abruptly interrupted himself to take a good look at Belle. This made the other country men, who were lounging about the place, grin at us as if we were big sillies. But Belle was furious. I knew Amity was in for it when she said in her most cutting voice:

“‘I believe you are the driver of that sorry-looking freak standing outside that goes by the name of Cherub. Was ever a beast as that, or a man like you, so contrarily named? Why, just look at the poor excuse called Cherub! His coat of fur has not been shorn for countless moons, and the size of his hoofs must have caused the holes in the road which are now filled with water like miniature lakes. Then give a thought to those queer tufts of hair growing from above the hoofs—like the Scotchman’s precious emblem that swings from his belt. And the vehicle! ye gods, what a rare picture for the movie camera! Its wheels running at different angles from each other in the most independent way, and the dashboard that was broken through by the last passenger, several weeks ago, still dangling to trip the Cherub’s heels. Well! Four Corners must sit up, now, and take notice. A group of live young people have come to stay, and sleepers like this driver and his spirited steed, will be left behind unless he churks up a bit.’

“Amity Ketchum had never experienced any controversy with the natives over his indolent habits, as they accepted him and his profession just as he was. But Belle’s denunciation caused his lower jaw to drop and render him speechless, while the farmers who had nothing to do on a rainy day, laughed heartily at Belle’s words.

“We turned to go out, but Frances suddenly had a brilliant idea. ‘People like you seldom appreciate what you have until you lose it. If some other young farmer about here would start a cab line for Four Corners, we would send him all the patronage we will have daily at the farm.’

“But no one rose to this tempting bait, so we poor bedraggled girls had to plod onward to Green Hill, carrying our bags and umbrellas as before, with injured pride weighting us down.

“Well, we finally reached the farm where Mrs. James and Natalie and Janet were eagerly watching for us. They had heard the engine whistle an hour before, and wondered what delayed us so. We described our differences of opinion with the hackman, much to Mrs. James’s amusement, and the girls’ hilarious laughter. But Rachel who stood in the doorway, listening, was furious. She declared that if she only owned an automobile she’d telegraph for her nephew, Sambo, to come right out to Four Corners and earn a decent living by taxi-cabbing in Four Corners. But her suggestion inspired Frances who is writing a letter to her Father about some scheme she has in mind. ‘She won’t tell us a thing about it until she hears,’ she said.

“Now that the unpleasant walk is over and we are comfortable again, we can laugh at the incident. I can honestly say that I wouldn’t have missed the fun for anything, as it will prove to be one of the laughable experiences of our summer at Green Hill. There goes the dinner call, folkses—I’ll have to finish this letter later.” * * *

“It is now supper time, dear folks, and I am sitting in my room to add a few lines to this letter. This noon, directly after dinner—every one in the country has dinner at noon and supper at night—so we fell into the same customs at the farm. Right after dinner, Natalie informed us three girls that we were all invited to visit Solomon’s Seal Girl Scouts’ Camp. This is the group of girls I told you about, that Miss Mason organized last year, and now has in camp at the woodland of the farm.

“We had a most interesting visit with the girl scouts. They did so many stunts for us that it would fill a book were I to try and write it all for you now. The object of the meeting was to discuss the plan of having Mrs. James form a second Patrol of Solomon’s Seal scouts. Miss Mason’s scouts form Patrol Number One, and we girls will be Patrol Number Two. Then we can apply at the National Headquarters in New York City for a charter which officially registers us as a Troop.

“It was decided that we girls, being five, and the three girls Natalie and Janet know, and asked to join the Patrol, will comprise the membership of the new Patrol. But we will be Tenderfeet for a month, before we can call ourselves regular scouts.

“This evening, after supper, we sat talking about the work Natalie and Janet are doing on the farm. Natalie started a vegetable garden soon after she arrived at the farm, and now you ought to see those beds! Really, you would be amazed to see how the cuttings and seeds Natalie planted are growing. She says she is going to sell the produce to the scouts at camp, and to Rachel, for the house-table. If there is more than enough to supply these needs, she is going to send it to New York to friends to buy. In this way she expects to earn enough money during the summer to pay for her own board and keep. Then Jimmy (Mrs. James, you know) can save the cost of Nat’s board and deposit it in the bank for her future.

“When Janet found Natalie was working for a living in such a delightful way, she, too, got the idea of starting something to earn her living this summer, and save the board money that her folks send every week to Jimmy, for a future college education. Janet started a stock farm. She bought three darling little pink pigs and some chickens. She expects to sell the eggs the hens lay, and sell the broilers the setting hens will soon hatch out for her. This will bring in ready money every day, and in a short time she will be able to buy a cow, a calf, a lot of ducks, geese and turkeys, and maybe some sheep and everything else that belongs to stock work on a farm.

“You really won’t believe how much money Janet will have by the end of this summer, all cleared out of the stock investment. But she proved it to me by showing me the actual figures on paper. Eggs are so expensive now, and broilers, too, always bring a fancy price in the market. Then, when she sells the milk, butter and cheese from the cow, the squabs from the pigeons, the ducks, geese and turkeys at Thanksgiving time, she will be repaid for her labor during the summer. The three pigs will fatten and grow without any care or cost to Janet, as they just eat whatever is left from the house; but pork brings awfully high prices when sold, so Janet will clear about a hundred and fifty dollars on her three pigs, when she sells them to the butcher. I wish I had been here first, and had had the opportunity to start a stock farm such as Janet has.

“But I suppose I would have made a failure of it, as I love to dream and idealize things. And Janet certainly can’t sit and idealize pigs and cows and such creatures, because I watched her tonight—she almost cried because she forgot to feed the pigs their supper, and they squealed unmercifully for hours until she mixed the corn-meal mush and carried it to them.

“It was suggested by Jimmy that I cultivate flowers in the beds already laid out but, thus far, nothing is planted in them. There are several hardy shrubs and flowers that come up every year which were left here by the former tenant, but they need pruning and cleaning out before they will look tidy and thrifty. Jimmy says she will help me all she can in the flower-gardening, so I have decided to try it, anyway.

“Natalie told me that Mrs. Tompkins, the wife of the man who owns the post office store, offered to give them all the slips and cuttings we needed to plant around the house at Green Hill. I am sending to a large seed store in New York, for a catalogue of their seeds and flowers, and will choose those which will grow quickly, as it is July and several months have been lost before I got here.

“Nat said that Mrs. Tompkins has the most beautiful flower gardens back of the house! I am going there to visit her and see her flowers. Jimmy thinks this work is just suited to my temperament, as I always loved flowers, and feel quite enthusiastic over the prospect of growing them and taking care of them. I couldn’t see where any profit could come to me out of the work of planting and watching over the flowers, but Jimmy says there are as many ways for me to dispose of my flowers for money, as it is possible for Natalie to sell vegetables, or Janet to sell stock.

“Before you see your dreamy Norma again, she will be a professional floriculturist. As a beginning in the business, Mrs. James authorized me to take charge of the landscaping of the grounds about the house. I am also going to have charge of the lawns. To keep the grass cut short and the edges trimmed neatly, and the people from walking across the grass and wearing footpaths over the lawn. I am to be paid for all garden or lawn work, the same as Farmer Ames charges the household for his time. Jimmy also told me that I shall be paid for any work I am asked to do about the place, whether it is helping Natalie weed or plant her vegetable gardens, or doing odd jobs.

“But the flower beds will be all my own to do with as I like, so there will be no pay for planting or raising flowers. It is such fascinating work—this flower seeding and planting, that I count every moment as wasted when I am not doing something to improve the garden or lawns.

“Mrs. James is the heart of everything at Green Hill Farm, from Rachel as house-worker, down to the dog, Grip, who belongs to Sam, the handy man; everything turns to her for advice and help. What would we all do without her?” * * *

“10 P. M.—I was interrupted in my letter just as I finished the last paragraph. The girls called me to hurry downstairs and walk with them to Four Corners. I went, but Mrs. James and I stopped to visit Mrs. Tompkins’s gardens while the other girls went on, with Hester Tompkins, to see Nancy Sherman and Dorothy Ames about forming a scout patrol. I can’t go to sleep without telling you about Mrs. Tompkins’s flowers, so I am sitting up to write, but all the others are fast asleep.

“I never thought the plain old earth could produce such lovely colors and the delicate perfumes Mrs. Tompkins’s flowers have. She has a large area devoted to her flowers, and there I saw almost every kind of plant, blossom, shrub, vine or tree that grows north. She says it is because she loves them so much that they bloom and thrive so splendidly for her.

“I believe that I could love flowers that way, too, and maybe they will bloom and thrive successfully for me, too. I told Mrs. Tompkins that I knew of no pleasanter way to live than to see such lovely rewards as the flowers, for one’s time and patience.

“She looked at me very searchingly, for a minute, and then said: ‘Norma, I think you will be a successful florist if you keep at the work. But you cannot slight such a calling once you undertake to grow the plants.’

“I wish you could see the great basketful of slips, roots and cuttings that I brought home from Mrs. Tompkins’s gardens tonight. I am going to get up at sunrise in the morning and plant them. Jimmy and I were visiting Mrs. Tompkins for almost two hours, yet it seemed like ten minutes.

“Now that this letter is finished, it can be mailed in the morning and I am free to start my garden work. Don’t be alarmed if you do not hear from me again for a long time as I will not have much time to spare once I begin gardening and landscaping the farm. When it begins to look like a real picture garden I want you both to come out and see what I can do. But do write often,

To your loving

Norma.

P. S.—If you possibly can send me my two months’ allowance in advance, I would be very grateful, as I want to buy seeds and bulbs, and lots of things for my work. Please send it at once.

Norma.

CHAPTER II
MRS. TOMPKINS COACHES NORMA.

The foregoing letter was sealed and mailed that forenoon when Farmer Ames drove past on his way to the general store. But there may be some readers who have not met Natalie and her friends at Green Hill Farm, and so, are not aware that Natalie left New York City with Mrs. James, her valuable companion and friend, and Rachel, the old southern cook who had been with the Averills for many years, to live on a farm in Westchester County that had been left the girl by her mother.

The old Colonial house on the farm was large and comfortable, so Natalie’s four school chums had agreed to spend the summer there, and board with Mrs. James. This income would help pay current expenses of housekeeping, and the girls could enjoy the freedom of country life and be happy in each other’s company.

All the amusing incidents that occurred to Natalie when she launched her plan and started a vegetable garden to help defray expenses, and the still more ludicrous experiences Janet had after she began her stock farm, are told in the two preceding volumes of this country life series, namely: “Natalie: A Garden Scout,” and “Janet: A Stock-Farm Scout.”

The same day that Norma’s letter went to her parents, a letter written by Frances Lowden was also mailed at Four Corners. In Frances’s letter she begged her parents to leave the automobile at the farm when they went to Colorado for the summer months. The reason for wanting the car at Green Hill was explained in the other volumes; that Frances proposed running a jitney as her business venture that summer, and thus put Amity Ketchum out of his profession for the time being.

How this venture succeeded and how Frances added to this undertaking the other branches of work that won her the badges in scoutdom, is told in full in her book which follows this one.

The preceding evening, while four of the girls called on Nancy Sherman and Hester Tompkins to make an appointment for the meeting of the two scout patrols, Mrs. James took Norma and introduced her to Mrs. Tompkins, the flower lover.

“I trust we are not disturbing you, Mrs. Tompkins, but I wanted to introduce Norma to you, as I think you two will be very close friends after you get acquainted with each other’s ideals,” said Mrs. James.

“I’m glad you came in, as Hester just went out to visit Nancy Sherman for a little time this evening, and I am quite alone. I was just on the point of going out to my garden and watch the bud on a night-bloomer. I hope it opens tonight.”

“Oh, then, let us go with you, as Norma is going to start the flower gardens at the farm, and will be very grateful to you for any hints or helps you can give her,” explained Mrs. James.

“I’m glad to find someone who is interested in my hobby,” was Mrs. Tompkins’ reply, as she smiled at Norma. “Come right out and let me introduce you to my favorites in the flower beds.”

Norma and Mrs. James followed their hostess out to her large gardens, and Mrs. Tompkins began describing various plants as they passed them.

“You’ll find that most of my flowers in the beds nearest the house are all of the old-fashioned variety, because they give out such sweet perfume. I love to sit by my back window and smell their refreshing odors. It is payment in full for all the time I give to their food and growth.”

The two visitors walked slowly along the neat footpath and stopped frequently to stoop and smell of a bright blossom, or admire a wonderful color of a flower.

“I try to use good judgment in the arrangement of my plants, too, as well as to group the colors so they will blend instead of fight with each other. Sometimes, I have great difficulty in this arrangement, as a flower will open and surprise me with an entirely different color or shade than I expected. Quite often, the bees, or birds, will carry a germ from one flower to another when they visit it to sip the nectar, and this fertilization of the seed, after the flower dies, is made manifest in a totally different color in the next production of the plant.”

“Oh, how interesting! I never knew such things happened in a flower garden,” exclaimed Norma.

Mrs. Tompkins laughed at the girl’s very evident interest. “You will find stranger and more absorbing things happening in a flower garden, than this very common occurrence. Because you see, it really depends upon the breezes, the bees, or the birds—sometimes, on a creeping insect or caterpillar—to carry pollen and the fertilizing germs from one flower to another. And Nature seldom errs in her judgments, either.”

“Mrs. Tompkins,” now asked Mrs. James, “do you know anything of the quality of the soil in the flower beds at Green Hill?”

“I’m afraid I am not well enough acquainted with it to render any verdict on it now. But I could visit you and examine it, so as to give you an intelligent answer on what flowers it will raise. The last tenant of the farm did not waste much time, or money, on the floral side of the grounds. His hobby was vegetable growing and the barn yard, and his wife cared little for gardening, so the beds were generally neglected.

“Fortunately, there is no danger of spoiling soil when it is not planted, and it is a very easy matter to enrich it so that any plant will thrive in it. The only impossible soil is what is known as ‘hard pan,’ but we find little of that around here.”

“I forked over some of the dirt in one of the beds and found it was rather dry and lacking in richness. Now this may be due to a sandy soil, or it may mean the soil is impoverished and needs more vitalizing properties before we plant the flowers,” said Mrs. James.

“If the ground was well manured early this spring or if you use good barn yard manure this fall, the beds will show a fine condition by next spring. I should use about a half-barrel full of manure to a square yard of the soil. But that will not do you any good for immediate planting. I would have to see the soil before I prescribe now for it,” explained Mrs. Tompkins.

“If Janet adds to her poultry business and buys pigeons and other feathered fowl very soon, we can use that manure for the beds. I’ve heard that poultry manure is best for flowers,” ventured Mrs. James.

“I’ll tell you what I do,” returned Mrs. Tompkins. “I believe poultry manure is one of the best to be had for any purpose with plants, as it is rich in nitrogen, easily stored and handled, and does not contain the grain or weed seeds that stall manure has and always reproduces when used in the garden. I remove any droppings from the perches and the floor of the house where the fowl roost; then I sweep the floors of all the coops, and use a fine tooth rake to clean out the poultry yards. These I throw in the box where that particular compost is kept. If I have any waste vegetable matter from the gardens or the kitchen garbage, I mix that with the poultry manure and leave it to decay thoroughly.

“I have learned that such a compost heap, far enough from the house to prevent any disagreeable odors from reaching us, will attract the chickens when they are at large, each day, to exercise. They will scratch in the heap and mix it better than I can. You do not need nearly as much poultry manure as you would of stall manure.”

“What kind of manure can we use now that will not burn the plants Norma may wish to raise?” asked Mrs. James.

“As I said before, I had better test the soil before I commit myself to reply. If the soil is damp, she’d better use some wood ashes from the fire-places, to furnish the potash and improve the condition of the soil. Bone dust makes a good fertilizer that can be used at most times, but it does not provide any humus to the ground. I think I should use a fine bone dust for present needs, but use a coarse powder for spring or fall enriching.”

Norma now interrupted this conversation by exclaiming: “Oh, what a beautiful bed of gladiolis! In New York we would have to pay a dollar for six of those stalks.”

“I’m very fond of my gladiolis, and so are my bees and birds, especially the humming-birds. They hover in and out of the blossoms as long as there is one to hold honey or nectar. My July flowering gladiolis are planted in early spring and produce magnificent spikes of flowers right through to frost time. I plant many of the bulb in late autumn and protect them from the frost with straw sweepings from the stable.”

One corner of the garden was a mass of gorgeous color produced by great peonies. Mrs. James pointed at them and remarked about their size and the sweetness which she could smell as far away as she was.

“I am justly proud of them,” smiled Mrs. Tompkins. “I was careful to plant them where they would be protected from the east wind. They love a deep fertile soil and will thrive well in a sunny sheltered garden. You can grow them from seed, but you will wait a long time before enjoying the flowers. If you transplant a well-rooted plant, you will have flowers the following season.”

“I don’t suppose we can plant any roots so late as this?” queried Norma, anxiously.

“No, it would merely kill the plant and the root would dry up in the ground.”

The iris, the phloxes, the pinks, lavender, portulacae and many other old-fashioned flowers were discussed, and for each one, Mrs. Tompkins had a valuable lesson to give Norma. As they went along the paths, Norma carrying a flat-bottomed basket, the hostess would dig up a small plant which had sprung up from a seed beside the older plant, and place it carefully in the basket. Thus by the time the three had covered the length of the paths in this section of the garden, Norma had almost a full basket of young slips and roots to take home for her own gardens. Then they walked over to a garden well enclosed with hedges, both low and high.

It brought forth a simultaneous exclamation of admiration, as Mrs. James and Norma saw that this large garden contained all kinds of roses, from the single American Beauty standing upright and queenly, to the tiny bush prolific with pink blooms. The hedges, too, were well worth admiring and seeing.

On the side nearest the other flower-beds, the low hedge was comprised of hyssop, rosemary and lavender. On either side were hedges of roses, thickly grown and kept well-trimmed, but back of the riot of color and perfume of the rose garden proper, stood dark green privet and back of that a row of dwarf cedars. This effectually screened the barns, but what really covered the grey, unpainted buildings were the luxuriant vines and creepers which were trained up over the roof, and hung in festoons from gables and dormer windows set in the roof.

Standing, as the visitors now did, beside the low hedge of flowers, and gazing across the roses to the taller hedge of cedar and then up at the tangle of green vines, the effect was lovely. And so thought the woman who had accomplished this effect.

After Norma had inhaled the perfume and sighed in an ecstasy of pleasure at the beautiful roses glowing before her, Mrs. Tompkins retraced her steps toward the house, as the twilight was falling and the dew began to gather on the foliage of the plants.

Norma carried the basket as if it were filled with frail creations of mist, but she asked questions, nevertheless.

“Why do you have table oilcloth spread out over the basket, Mrs. Tompkins?”

“To keep the soil from drying and to keep the roots and plants moist after they are placed in the basket. The oilcloth keeps the air from circulating about the roots and soil.”

“Then why have such a shallow basket. Would not a deep one keep away the air?”

“If we used a deep basket you would have to reach down into it and, perhaps, break a delicate stem, or catch your sleeve, or leaves of other plants, while you are removing a plant or root. By having such a shallow basket, one is not tempted to place other plants with their soil, on top of those in the bottom, as might be the case if one used a deep basket.”

As the three reached the back piazza which was completely hidden under vines, Norma remarked aloud: “It’s a wonder Mrs. Tompkins never went into the florist business, instead of keeping all these wonderful flowers and her valuable knowledge about them, to herself.”

Mrs. Tompkins smiled. “I’ll tell you something that I seldom speak of. I have had many tempting offers of large salaries and easy hours, to take charge of private greenhouses owned by millionaires who like to raise prize flowers; and also from commercial florists to superintend their greenhouses, because I have won quite a reputation for myself through my successful floriculture. But I stayed at home to work with my own garden and with my old-fashioned tools and ways.”

“Oh, Mrs. Tompkins! Didn’t you want fame and riches?” cried Norma, scarcely able to understand why one should refuse such wonderful gifts.

“Well, maybe I am queer, but I love flowers from a different standpoint than these growers of fancy and freakish plants,” explained Mrs. Tompkins. “It would hurt me to see the boss cutting all my young and glorious buds and blossoms to sell to a city market. I would see, in my mind’s eye, all my pets being sold to cold individuals for decorating their homes for parties, or to pin at their waist, without a thought for the sweet life of the flowers. And naturally, I would scold the owner of the greenhouse for such wholesale destruction. Now put me in charge of a rich man’s greenhouses, and tell me to produce a giant rose or chrysanthemum with which to win a prize and a newspaper comment! I couldn’t do it. I love all flowers so that I would fight to protect them. In my own home garden, I am ruler and no one tells me to strive for a prize, or sell my blossoms for money. And my flowers know I love them, so they really race with each other to see which one can offer me the finest blossoms.”

Norma laughed delightedly at this explanation, and Mrs. James nodded her head understandingly, as she murmured: “That is the way I could love the flowers if I allowed myself to specialize with them. And because I think Norma is much the same, I wanted her to try the flower gardening and then come and meet you.”

“Yes, I am that way!” declared Norma. “The other girls always laughed at me when I refused to pin flowers at my girdle, because I said they would droop and die so quickly. That’s why they dubbed me ‘Sentimental Norma.’ But it wasn’t that I hated to wear them, but that I couldn’t bear the thought of how much longer the flowers would have lived and shed their fragrance abroad, had they been able to remain on the plant. Then the bees and birds and all Nature would have benefited more than by cutting the flower to please one person.”

Mrs. Tompkins now learned from Norma’s guileless remark how idealistic and poetical the girl really was. She stepped forward and placed one hand on the tangled waves of hair and said: “I see we are going to be very good friends, Norma.”

Norma smiled up at the plain-faced woman and Mrs. James showed her satisfaction at the way Norma was accepted by their hostess. The other girls who had gone to Nancy Sherman’s had not yet returned to the Tompkins house, so the three flower lovers sat on the narrow front piazza and waited for them.

Twilight had given way to grey evening, and the frogs began croaking, and the little lizards chirping over in the meadow across the road as the three friends sat and talked of various things pertaining to floriculture.

“If you find the soil in any section of your garden of a clay nature, you will need to lighten it. Sand generally needs rich farm yard manure to strengthen it. This must be dug under and well mixed for about two feet in depth. As I said a while back, it is too late in the season to make use of farm yard composts of any kind, unless you use it in the water with which you soak the plants after sundown, at night. I keep a hogshead of water in a back corner of my garden, in which I soak manure from the barn yard and stalls. I add a small quantity of the compost to this water every time I add water in any quantity. This keeps it always at about the same degree of nourishment.”

“We have a few lily-of-the-valley plants along the side of the house where the driveway comes in. But they do not seem to be thriving,” said Mrs. James. “Can you tell me what to give them?”

“That’s because they are in the wrong location; now they are facing the southern sun and are exposed to the rays as well as to all the air that reaches the piazza. You must dig them up this fall, Mrs. James, and place them in a shady northeast bed. Plant them on that northeast side of the house where the stone wall sticks out like a buttress. I never knew why that freak of an out-thrust was there. But now I know why it is there—to protect and shade your lily-of-the-valley plants.”

Norma and Mrs. James smiled at this interpretation, and Mrs. Tompkins continued: “It would be a pity if Norma had to go back to the city before she had had time to plant her bulbs for next year’s flowers. The daffodils, tulips, crocuses, hyacinths and other bulbs, which need fall or early winter planting, and the hardy vines and shrubs which beautify a place so wonderfully, have to be planted in the fall when the sap is all out of the wood.”

“Mrs. Tompkins, do you think I could ever grow such lovely flowers at Green Hill, as you have back there in your gardens?” asked Norma, yearningly.

“Why not? Perhaps better ones; for you have soil, right exposures and finer surroundings than I ever had here at Four Corners. You must understand that plants are living things and they really appreciate their environment as much as we do. But the most important factor with them is the warmth of creative love—not the mortal selfish kind, but the divine eternal unselfish love. That is why you read of a scraggy little plant half-dead in the pot, that began to revive and flourish when cared for by a bed-ridden child whose days were passed in a tenement cellar. That plant needed not the sunshine and air of nature, as much as the beams of love and devotion and sacrifice from a human soul.”

“When you visit us at Green Hill, Mrs. Tompkins, I am going to show you an eye-sore that spreads all the way from the barn yard end of the farm to the road that runs past the northeast corner of the property. Perhaps you can suggest a remedy for that disgrace,” said Mrs. James earnestly.

“There is no ill in Nature. It is what man makes of his opportunity. I know the spot you speak of, and I often wished I had the right to go in there and work my will in that depression.”

“Then it is yours to do as you will with it, only let Norma and me act as your aides in doing it,” laughed Mrs. James.

“If we three consolidated and began alterations on the grounds of Green Hill, few people would recognize the place in a year’s time,” rejoined the hostess, smilingly.

“We’ll do it!” declared Norma eagerly.

“When you remember the rolling, artistic natural grades of the farm, and the sheltered, as well as exposed areas for planting, is it not a wonder the former tenant could not see the beauty in flower-growing?” said Mrs. James musingly.

“Will you come over the first thing tomorrow morning?” asked Norma anxiously.

The ladies laughed and Mrs. Tompkins replied: “I’ll try to drive over when Farmer Ames goes back home.”

The other girls now joined the three people on the piazza and Hester said: “We’re all going to join the scout patrol, Mother, and there will be lots of fun after this, all summer through.”

CHAPTER III
AN AUTOMOBILE IS DONATED.

Norma left the basket of plants in the cool cellar for the night, but she was up in the morning before anyone was astir in the house, in order to get the plants in the ground before the sun rose high. She was busily engaged in digging holes with a kitchen coal-shovel and planting the roots carefully as Mrs. Tompkins had shown her when Mrs. James came out and saw her at work.

“Ha! the early bird catches the flowers!” called Mrs. James, as she ran across the grass and joined Norma at the garden.

“I planted the young sweet williams and the chicken feet, and the pinks, all along that border, you see,” said Norma.

“Very good, but you did not entrench any manure in the soil, did you?”

“No, because I thought we would buy some bone dust as Mrs. Tompkins said, and spread it over the top after the flowers are in the ground.”

Mrs. James advised and suggested, as Norma dug and planted industriously, until she had all of the slips and plants that were given her the evening before, in the ground. Then the two walked along the grass-overgrown road that ran down to the stream. The old rail fence on one side, that separated the house grounds from the pasture lot, was not a beautiful thing to look at. And the strip of weed-grown wild-grass that stretched between the fence and the badly kept road made the spot still more uninteresting.

“Norma, since the first day I moved to the place, I’ve been eager to reclaim this awful strip of land, so I asked Natalie to plant a few rows of corn, or beans, or even potatoes all along here. But she wouldn’t waste time over it, she said. Now let’s you and I beautify it.”

“Nothing I’d like better, Jimmy. What would you suggest?”

“What would you suggest!” countered Mrs. James.

“We could simply overwhelm that old rail fence with creepers. Convolvulas, moon-flowers, clematis, and Virginia creepers, to say nothing of trumpet vines, will glorify the old grey rails. What do you think?”

“Splendid! And they all will grow even though it is July; the trumpet vine and Virginia creeper may object but the others will make a good showing in a few weeks, and before August we will have the old fence hidden under a mass of foliage and flowers.”

“Their roots are not large, either, and they will not absorb the nourishment from the soil which will be needed by the other plants we will plant along there,” added Norma.

“I haven’t any idea of what to plant. The weeds have to all come out first, and then we may find that the soil is so dry and poor that it will need entrenching, as Mrs. Tompkins described, yesterday.”

“I’ve been thinking of it, while I was digging this morning, Jimmy, and I thought a border of squatty old-fashioned plants such as tansy, tarragon, rue and chervil, exactly like Mrs. Tompkins has about that board fence that screens her gardens from the grocery yard, would look fine. Then, between the border and the vines on the fence, we could plant all kinds of geraniums, in red, white or pink. They will grow, too, because they take root and will stand transplanting at any time of the summer season. If we shelter them for the first few days, to protect them from the hot rays of the sun, and keep the roots well watered in early morning and in the evening, they ought to take hold at once.”

“I’m sure they will, Norma, and I can see how pretty the effect of such massed plants will be,” responded Mrs. James. “And way down there, opposite Natalie’s vegetable gardens, we can add some more hollyhocks for next year. Those few now growing there look so forlorn and lonesome, trying to lean against the old fence.”

“We might plant some sun flowers right away—they will grow now, and bloom before September. That will give the lonely hollyhocks a little company, and provide feasts for the birds, too.”

“We’ll try it!” declared Mrs. James, and then just as Rachel’s welcome call for breakfast sounded over the lawn, and the two went towards the house to wash before appearing at the table, Rachel gave a whoop and stood waving her arms, as she gazed across the drying-lawn back of her kitchen.

“Dem fowls ’scaped from the barn yard, Natalie, and is eating yor greens as fas’ as they kin!” was the cook’s warning cry to the girls within the house.

In less than a minute, four girls streamed out of the back door and followed in the wake of the southern mammy, as she hurried down the pathway to the vegetable gardens. Norma and Mrs. James trailed after the four girls, but the trespassing hens and rooster were shooed away from the forbidden ground by the time the last two in the procession arrived on the scene.

“Now Janet, you’ve just got to get some wire and keep those horrid chickens in a yard,” wailed Natalie, when she saw the damage they had done to the tender tops of her greens.

So, soon after the breakfast, Janet started for Four Corners to purchase a roll of chicken wire for the runway. Belle and Frances offered to go with her and help carry the roll back to the house. Norma had too much to do with her flower gardening to think of leaving the work, so she was hard at her self-appointed tasks when the Lowdens drove up in their touring car and stopped in front of the house.

Mrs. James was indoors helping Rachel, when Mr. Lowden came along the side road and stopped back of Norma. The first inkling she had of anyone being near her was, when she heard a man’s amused voice asking “How is your garden growing?”

Then Norma eagerly explained what she was doing, and all that Natalie and Janet had already accomplished. That made her remember something. “Oh, Janet had to go to buy chicken-wire to keep her chickens from gobbling Natalie’s greens, so Frances and Belle went along to help her carry the roll of wire back.”

“Where did they go for it?” asked Mr. Lowden.

“All the way to Four Corners, and a roll of wire ought to be rather heavy before they finish this mile, don’t you think, Mr. Lowden?” suggested Norma.

Frances’ father laughed, and said he would drive down the road and help them with the burden. Then he went out to tell his wife and send her in to the house to visit Mrs. James, while he went for the three girls and the chicken wire.

The object of the Lowdens’s early visit was soon told. And they were fully repaid for their offer to leave the touring car for the girls of Green Hill Farm to use during the summer while the owners were vacationing in the Rockies, by such happy faces and excited declarations of how good the Lowdens were, etcetera.

When it came time for the Lowdens to start for the train that left Four Corners at noon every day, Frances asked who of the girls would like to drive with her to the station. Janet simply had to begin that horrid chicken fence, and Natalie had to mend her broken plants and smooth the scratched-up soil; Belle said someone ought to help poor Janet, so Norma spoke up:

“I’d love to go with you, Frans, if you will leave me at Mrs. Tompkins and call for us on your way back. Jimmy and I invited her to visit us today and advise us with the landscaping about the house.”

“Sure! Jump in and I’ll drop you as we pass the store. You can have Mrs. Tompkins all ready to come back with me when I stop for you,” was Frances’s willing reply.

The trip was soon made, and Norma, with Mrs. Tompkins, were welcomed by Mrs. James who was waiting on the side porch. Frances left the car under the great oak that grew beside the corner of the driveway near the front fence corner, and then ran to the barn yard to see what Janet was doing. But she was soon drafted into service with Belle and the three forgot the three floriculturists at the house, for a time.

Norma and Mrs. James escorted their visitor across the lawns to the garden that had been planted that morning. “Oh, but you should have placed inverted flower-pots over the little plants during the hot sunshine, Norma,” said Mrs. Tompkins anxiously.

“I didn’t forget it, Mrs. Tompkins, but I had none. I hunted down in the cellar, in hopes of finding some old ones, but I didn’t see a one.”

“In that case, you should have made cornucopias of paper—brown paper if you have it, or newspaper if there is no heavier kind on the place. I’ll show you how to do it if you get me the paper,” offered the visitor.

Rachel had several sheets of brown paper in the kitchen which she had folded and saved for a need, and now Norma was handed it, while Rachel felt that this gift privileged her to join the flower growers and listen to their talk. But she soon wearied of it and started for the barn yard to find if the company there was more interesting.

Mrs. Tompkins formed cones of the papers, some larger, some smaller, according to the size of the plant to be covered, and when these cones were placed in an inverted manner over the plants they were secured to the ground by means of sticks or stones placed at the edge of the paper.

The three then walked over to the strip of weeds that grew all along the fence-line, and Norma explained what she had suggested in flowers, for that strip. Mrs. Tompkins exchanged looks with Mrs. James, and said, smilingly: “Our flower scout is improving wonderfully in the few lessons she’s had.”

Shouts and laughter reaching them from the farm yard now attracted the visitor’s attention, and she looked over in that direction. Norma explained what was going on there: “Janet has to fence her chickens in because they scratch up Nat’s garden and eat the tops from her greens.”

Mrs. Tompkins laughed, but she said: “I wouldn’t want a garden of any kind, if I had no living creatures about it to make it companionable. To me, the bees, birds, pigeons and chickens, yes, even cats and dogs, help make my gardens more lovable, for these domestic animals love flowers and sweet-smelling things just the same as we do.”

“I never looked at it in that light,” murmured Norma.

Just then a shout for Mrs. James came ringing across the farm from the direction of the barn yard, so that lady hastily excused herself and ran down the lane to see what was wanted of her. She did not return to Norma or Mrs. Tompkins, so they walked on and talked of their favorite subject—flower culture.

“I have watched many times, and do you know, Norma, not a cat or dog, or other creatures that wandered into my gardens, ever ruined a plant for me! I have seen them scoop out a slight depression in the soft soil to sleep in. But they always curled up in the little hole and never disturbed the roots or vines. Then when they had had their nap they would get up and walk silently away. I generally smoothed out the spot and that was all the trouble it gave me.”

“Mrs. Tompkins, it must be your sublime faith that the creatures won’t injure your flowers, that keeps them from doing any harm,” remarked Norma. “Just like Daniel when he was in the lion’s den, you know. If he had wavered and thought to himself: ‘Oh, I wonder if God really will bother to keep the lions’ jaws closed’ maybe he wouldn’t have come out of that experience quite so remarkably.”

Mrs. Tompkins laughed heartily at the comparison, and added: “I see you know something of the Scriptures, Norma, so I can say, and you will understand, the line that goes thus: ‘Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.’ I trust to my faith in good creatures and hope that they will respond to my loving faith in them, and sure enough! the evidence of such things generally appears to me.”

“Why can’t I encourage the same sort of faith in my ideals for a garden, Mrs. Tompkins? I know a garden of flowers must be good because flowers are beautiful things created by God. So I can hold to my faith until I see the evidence appear, eh?”

Mrs. Tompkins smiled and nodded, then added: “I want to say, that in speaking of entertaining the little feathered angel birds, in my flower garden, I also entertain them in beneficent ways unseen by me. For bees and birds are necessary and valuable for your flowers. The bees have panniers on their legs where they carry the pollen to the hives, and many a tiny bit of pollen falls from these well-packed panniers to fall into the heart of the blossom from which the bee is gathering nectar. In this bit of pollen lies the secret of the fertilization of other flowers.

“Can you picture my flower garden without the darling humming-birds and bees that buzz and sing about it all day long?”

“I wish we could coax all the different birds in the county to live on the farm. I’d love it!” declared Norma fervently.

“You can have them, if you will work to attract them,” was Mrs. Tompkins’s reply.

“Jimmy said that she never saw so many different kinds of wild song birds in any place, as she has seen since coming to Green Hill. She told me that the only regret is that she has not built any bird houses to offer them for homes.”

“Why lose any more time, then? Begin to fix up some bird houses at once, and you will see what a difference they will make about your place.”

“I thought we would have to send to the city and buy the houses,” ventured Norma.

“Goodness, no! You can use empty starch boxes such as Si throws on the woodpile, or cheese boxes, or even soap boxes, if they are not too large and heavy. You can fix partitions inside, and then nail perches on the outside under the entrances, then, last of all, you nail the cover on the box again and paint it. If you want a real fancy house, get some bark from a fallen tree and nail it on the outside with wire brads.”

“I’ll get the girls to help me and we’ll do it at once,” promised Norma eagerly. “You ask your husband to save some of those boxes for us, will you, Mrs. Tompkins?”

“I certainly will! and now that I come to think of it, I saw Si empty another cheese box this morning. That makes two you girls can have, for I saved one a few weeks ago in case any of the neighbors asked me for one to use for the birds.”

“How do you make that kind, Mrs. Tompkins?” asked Norma.

“For wrens you always cut a small hole so the sparrows can’t crawl in and annoy them. A wren is touchy and won’t live in a nest where she is annoyed by her enemy, the sparrow. A bluebird or a martin needs a doorway a little larger than the wren’s. And the robin, or the blue jay, or an oriole, needs the door still larger. A cat bird, and birds of his size, needs the largest holes to their nests, of any of these others.

“So you cut the hole according to the bird you expect to rent your house to. The more modern improvements you offer a tenant the sooner you rent the apartment. Most birds like a cozy home, with enough room to build a good substantial nest therein, but not so large that it will feel like poking in the corners every night to make sure there are no tramps lurking about. The tenants like a safe perch upon which they can rest when they alight before entering their home. And they even like a little promenade deck in front of their house, so the mother can exercise now and then, and still have safety and security from cats, or fighting birds that disagree with the smaller ones. A roof to shed water and shade the doorway is also a boon to the tenant; then give them a fine bird-bath near the house, and feeding grounds throughout the cold weather and you will be amazed at the beautiful song birds you can secure for your houses.”

“Shall we nail the boxes to the tree trunks?” asked Norma.

“Better not, as cats can climb a tree and will frighten the birds even if they do not kill them. I should swing the house by means of a stout wire, from a bough, or nail the house to a strong slat and then nail the slat to the main trunk, or large bough of the tree. If you place a bird house under the eaves of your house, you can use the slat and nail it securely to the ledge of the window, but keep the house out towards the eaves where it will be far enough away from the window to insure privacy to the birds.”

“Dear me, I wish Janet had thought of keeping bees. I will speak to her about it, and if she doesn’t try it, I will do it myself. I want bees, and birds, and butterflies, and everything, to enjoy my flowers as much as I shall myself,” sighed Norma.

Mrs. Tompkins was too wise to suggest that Norma had better try and grow a flower garden before she planned for the friendly visitors to such a garden. But she said, apropos of bees: “I’m looking for a swarm of my bees almost any day, now. If you girls decide to start a bee-hive, just send me word and I’ll keep the new swarm for you.”

“Oh, do! Even if the others won’t, I’m going to have them for my garden flowers,” cried Norma eagerly.

At this moment, Frances called to Mrs. Tompkins: “I’ve got to rush to the store for more wire nails and an extra hammer, for Janet’s work. If you are ready to go home, I’ll drive you back.”

“Oh, must you go so soon?” asked Norma when Mrs. Tompkins nodded her head at Frances.

“Soon! Why, child, I have been here more than an hour.”

“Well, then, I’ll jump in with you and get those boxes for the bird houses,” declared Norma.

So the boxes were found and placed in the automobile while Frances was waiting for the nails and hammer at Four Corners’ general store. When Norma came out of the house, where she had gone at Mrs. Tompkins’s invitation, she carried a bottle of tiny brown seeds and several pasteboard boxes. One small pill box that had held pepsin pellets at one time now had six precious nasturtium seeds in it. Another box held a quantity of morning glory seeds, and still another had sun flower seeds in it. A paper packet held sweet pea seeds and these Norma was told to soak in warm water for quickest results after planting.

Frances was ready to start back to the farm just about the time when Norma came out with the seeds in her hands. As she turned to wave a hand at her generous friend, the latter said: “Remember to soak all the seeds but the nasturtiums. They are better dry, when planted. And plant them in the morning after they have soaked through the night.”

The tonneau was piled high with starch boxes, two round cheese boxes and other small boxes that would make good bird houses, so Norma sat in front beside Frances and chattered of all the birds they would soon have about Green Hill, once the apartments were ready for their occupancy.

When she got home, the boxes were piled beside the side door leading to the cellar, and then Norma carried her seeds indoors to soak, as Mrs. Tompkins had advised her to do. The small pill box containing the six rare nasturtium seeds was left on the living room table while Norma soaked the other seeds in cups filled with warm water. These cups were placed under the steps of the porch to be out of harm’s way.

Norma now picked up the pill box and wondered where to keep it for the night. It might be damp under the porch steps, and the seeds might be spilled if the box was left on the living room table. So she decided to hide it in the pantry closet where the china was kept. She would put it on a shelf that she could easily reach, and shove it against the side wall just inside the door that opened to the dining room. So here the box was left.

Nothing more could be done that evening in the flower gardens, so Norma joined the other girls when they came from the barn yard talking about the fence they had built. As Janet had forgotten the pig’s extra meal of milk that morning, the milk had soured, and Rachel had made sour-milk pancakes of it for supper.

These were a favorite dish with all the girls, and Rachel mixed an extra lot of batter. Smeared thickly with butter and with white clover honey poured over them, they were so delicious that the hungry girls did full justice to them. But Rachel still had so much batter left, after the girls had finished supper, that she baked it into cakes for herself. She, too, was overfond of sour-milk pancakes with pure honey on them.

She ate and ate, until she could hardly breathe, and then she sighed because the last pancake had to be put away on the pantry shelf. She sought for a safe corner in which to hide it from Mrs. James’s searching eye, for fear of being laughed at for saving it for her breakfast.

In pushing the plate in the corner, Rachel found the pill box, and always having enough curiosity to cause her useless trouble, she carried the box to the kitchen window to see what it said on the cover. Then she carried it back and placed it on the shelf.

The supper dishes were washed and put away where they belonged, but Rachel found it hard to finish her tasks, because she was taken with such indigestion pains. She drank a glass of hot water, hoping to relieve her difficulty in breathing. But it got worse. She sat down every few moments until a cramp had passed, and every time she began again to do the dishes, she had to gasp for breath.

Suddenly she remembered the pill box that said: “Pepsin pills for indigestion.”

“Dat means despepsy like what I got so bad,” muttered Rachel, going for the box.

She brought it out to the daylight and laboriously read the directions: “Take two pills, if attack is severe. If not relieved, repeat dose in half hour.”

“Humph! I’se got it so bad, I reckon I’d better take all foh at one time—like it say, repeat dose.” So Rachel took four of the six rare seeds. She replaced the box on the shelf and in a short time the gas disappeared and she felt better. She sat on the stoop for a time to enjoy the cool breezes, and then finding she was feeling as well as ever again, she walked out on the lawn to meet the girls who had spent the evening at Solomon’s Seal Camp.

They told Rachel all about the stories of the stars and the legends of the constellations that the scouts had told them, and so interested in some of these myths was Rachel that she forgot to speak of the pills she had taken from the box in the pantry.

Early before breakfast the next morning, Norma and Mrs. James were planting the seeds which had been soaked through the night. They planted them where the soil was richest, and planned to dig up the tiny shoots when they came up, and transplant them over by the fence which would be all ready for the vines by that time.

“Now I’ll go and get the wonderful nasturtium seeds, Jimmy,” said Norma, when the swollen wet seeds were all planted.

She ran to the pantry and got the box. She ran out again with it in her hand and did not open it until she stopped in front of Mrs. James. Then she carefully lifted the cover from the box to show her companion the six queer shrivelled seeds that would bring forth such beauty. To her amazement she saw but two.

“I know Mrs. Tompkins gave me six!” she exclaimed.

“You didn’t drop any on your way over here, did you?”

“No, I never removed the lid until I got here.”

“That’s very strange! I wonder if there are any field mice in the house. I’ve heard they love nasturtium seeds,” said Mrs. James.

“Jimmy, if a mouse got the seeds, wouldn’t the cover be off, or a hole eaten into the box?”

“Yes, of course it would! And the cover was on when you picked it up?”

“It was on exactly as I left it last night, and just as I showed it to you this minute.”

It was a mystery, but a sad one for Norma as she had been so proud of those six Oriental nasturtium seeds. The main subject of conversation at the breakfast table that morning was the strange disappearance of four seeds from the pill box. Rachel brought in another plate of toast while Norma described minutely the place on the shelf where she had hidden the box the night before.

Rachel thumped the plate on the table and dropped into an empty arm chair. Her eyes bulged and her mouth sagged open in dismay. Finally she gasped in awe-struck tones:

“Mis’ James, what yoh think will happen to me ef I swallowed dem foh pills?”

“What four pills, Rachel?” was the puzzled reply.

“Why dem foh seed pills in dat dyspepsy box. I got such cramps las’ night, I had to take somefin and dat was all I could fin’.”

The girls almost had hysterics from laughing at her confession, and Janet managed to say: “Norma will have to pour water down your throat every day before sun-up, and every evening after sunset, Rachel, to make the vine grow luxuriantly.”

“Janet—yoh don reely mean dat, does yoh?” was Rachel’s dread question.

“Sure, Rachel! You’ll have the finest Oriental vine coming out of your mouth in a few days that Norma ever saw!”

But Mrs. James hushed Janet’s foolish teasing and assured Rachel that she would feel no ill effects at all, from the wrong dose of seeds.

CHAPTER IV
BUILDING BIRD HOUSES.

The day Norma discovered where her four precious seeds had gone was the day Sambo arrived at Green Hill, and just before he made his appearance, the dog, Grip, was found on the high road and brought home to the farm to live. Soon after his introduction to Mrs. James, the dog saw his rightful master coming in at the gate and welcomed him as only a lost dog can welcome a master found.

Norma spent most of her spare time that day in weeding the strip of garden alongside the old rail fence. Sam was ordered to help in this work after dinner, and Mrs. James came out to dig up roots and snags which would not come out by hand-pulling. The entire strip, running from the great oak tree near the front gate, down to the old hollyhocks that grew opposite Natalie’s corn field, was cleared of weeds and the ground was dug up and ready to be well mixed with manure.

As the girls were going in the automobile, the next day, to buy a cow, Sam was told to use the manure left near the vegetable gardens, to spade under in the soil alongside the rail fence. The cow was purchased and Janet also bought a little calf, a deed which she felt was reckless because of her meager finances since she began stock farming. But Susy, the calf, was too cute to leave behind, so she was to be brought the same time the cow was delivered at the farm.

The party got back to the house just before two o’clock, but Rachel had not expected them any sooner, so the dinner was just ready when the car drove in at the gate and stopped by the side porch.

Rachel bustled out of the side door, consumed with curiosity. “Did you-all git a cow?” she asked almost before the car had stopped.

“Not only a fine cow, Rachel, but a darling calf, too!” exclaimed Janet, the pride of proprietorship sounding in her voice.

“I jus’ finished dinneh, so you-all come right in and eat,” said Rachel, anxious over her charges because they had gone long past the usual dining hour with nothing to eat.

While the autoists washed and brushed up before sitting down at the table, Rachel stood talking to Norma about the garden. “Sam done gone and futilised dat soil so fine dat you kin grow any t’ing in it, now. When you done dinneh you just go and see how smood it looks.”

“That’s good, Rachel, because I found some lovely bushes growing down the road a bit that I want to dig up and plant along that fence line. If we begin keeping bees, we will need plenty of blossoms all summer through, and these bushes will provide flowers now, and berries later, for the birds.”

While the girls were getting ready for dinner, the girl scouts from camp could be heard laughing and talking eagerly as they approached the house. In a few moments, not only the camping scouts, but Nancy Sherman, Hester Tompkins and Dorothy Ames, with them, came up the porch steps and greeted the returned tourists.

“We came to see if you found a cow?” was the general question.

Then it became necessary to describe every lap of the journey much to the delighted interest of all the audience. When they heard the corporation cow would arrive Saturday morning, they all cheered lustily, but Mrs. James said seriously:

“You haven’t any habitable shed for the cow, nor for the calf, to go in. If I were you girls I would commence without delay and construct a decent cow-shed for Susy, and partitioning off a stall in the barn as a home for the cow.”

This was decided upon after discussing the pros and cons of a cowshed or a first class barn stall for a cow. The latter choice won because it was much easier to partition off a stall than to build an entirely new shed and fence in a yard.

It seemed that once Janet started adding to the stockyard creatures, she lost all count of money and squandered what allowances might come to her in the next two months, or three. Mr. Ames had offered to trust her for payment, and that was her undoing, for she not only bought the twenty goslings the day she exchanged the old Plymouth Rock hen for the Rhode Island Reds, but she also chose a few guinea hens, five pairs of pigeons, and spoke for half a dozen ducks.

Norma had not had any time to devote to her flower beds that day, because she wished to help build the home for Sue, but when the girls trooped back to the house, Miss Mason saw the heap of boxes lying near the cellar door.

“What are all those for?” asked she, of anyone who would answer.

“Bird houses. Mrs. Tompkins says we ought to make them at once and get them up if we hope to coax any birds to our farm,” explained Norma.

“Good idea! Do any of you girls know how to build one?” asked the Captain.

“I never made one, but Mrs. Tompkins told me just how to do it. She says flowers need birds and bees about to keep them healthy,” returned Norma.

“She’s right, too, because birds are a gardener’s right-hand helper in catching destructive insects on the plants. If Natalie had more birds about the farm, she wouldn’t have any potato bugs on her vines,” remarked Mrs. James.

“Well, I’m going to clean all those beetles off as soon as I get time,” said Natalie, in justification of her procrastination.

“Now that we all whetted an appetite for sawing and hammering, what do you girls say to our working on the bird houses until it is time to go back to camp?” asked Miss Mason.

This suggestion met with approval from all, and soon there was a medley of sounds—laughing, talking, hammering, sawing and scuffling of feet on the stone floor of the cellar, for that is where the bird boxes were being constructed. Mrs. James insisted that the scouts from camp remain to sup with them and finish the work on the bird houses afterward.

Of course, they were pleased at the invitation—even though it was proper to refuse to stay, in a tone that meant they would, if the invitation was repeated. So they all remained to enjoy some of Rachel’s famous supper dishes, and then completed the bird houses that evening before going back to camp.

Miss Mason and Mrs. James superintended the carpentry and kept up a pleasant fire of good suggestions, at the same time.

“I’m delighted that we will have enough bird houses to try to induce some of the lovely birds I have seen about here to come and nest in our trees, but I think we ought to provide a bird bath on the lawn where the newcomers can drink and bathe without going down to the stream. I fear they may be enticed to stay away, if they compare conveniences with our environment and down by the stream,” said Mrs. James.

“It ought to be an easy matter to build a nice concrete bird-bath,” said Miss Mason.

“I’d like to experiment on one, after we finish these houses and get them properly placed,” said Mrs. James.

“Well, I’ll help you make one, if you say so, although I am almost as ignorant of how to mix concrete as this box. Still, we can use our intelligence, you know,” laughed the Captain.

“I know what to do!” exclaimed Norma, now. “I’ll go and ask Mrs. Tompkins in the morning. She’ll know and tell us what to do.”

Mrs. James and the house scouts laughed, and the former said: “Norma runs to her Oracle for everything, now.”

“We might experiment with a feeding station, too, if you want to attract and hold the birds about the house until they get acclimated to their new quarters. Then they will remain late into the fall and return early in the spring,” was Miss Mason’s suggestion.

“I wonder what kind of birds we can coax to our houses?” queried Natalie, boring a hole in one of the boxes with an augur.

“I’ve seen wrens, bluebirds, robins, thrashers, cat birds, orioles and many not so familiar, flying about the farm, so that ought to be a fair idea of the kind we may hope to house very soon,” replied Mrs. James.

“One bird we can depend on coming and trying to crowd out all the others,” giggled Natalie.

“Yes, the English sparrow,” agreed Janet. “I wish we could raise the rent on them, or do some other restrictive act that would warn them from the premises.”

“The only way I know of is to keep the doors of the nests small enough for a wren and too small for a sparrow. All the other birds will fight off the sparrows, but the wren won’t—they just move away,” explained Mrs. James.

“Look at this hole, is it about the right size, Jimmy?” asked Norma as she finished the boring in the wood.

“Speaking of the wren, I want to tell you a little story of one I found nesting under the eaves of my brother’s country house. Its nest was dangerously near the rose trellis where a cat could climb up and get it, but it wanted to be near the people in the house, and that was the only available spot where a nest would perch. So we built a special corner bracket and shelf for it, and when Jenny laid her eggs we very gently and carefully moved the nest to a safe place, before she had really started brooding over them. We knew she would not abandon the eggs because of the moving, but we felt much easier when we realized she was safe.”

“I remember some wrens who always built their nests as close to our back doors as they could get without actually lodging right on the doorstep,” laughed Mrs. James.

“What dear little things they are!” sighed Norma tenderly.

This remark attracted several girls’ attention to Norma and then they stopped their own work to go and see what she was making.

“Well! of all things—just look at Norma’s palace!” exclaimed Janet admiringly.

That brought the other girls around her and she had to explain just what she was doing with the cheese box. “I am following Mrs. Tompkins’s suggestions and plans for my bird house. You see I divided the inside of the box into five flats, and at each apartment I bored a hole. Because they are of different sizes, I hope to have different birds as tenants in it.

“When the partitions were fastened inside, I nailed the cover on the cheese box again. The two large barrel covers that Mrs. Tompkins gave me make the bottom and roof. Because the barrel head is larger than the cheese box, it provides a nice little balcony all around the house. And the other head that is on top for a roof, projects far enough over the cheese box to keep the rain from driving in at the open doors of the apartments.”

“But, Norma, how are you going to keep the water from coming through that flat roof and soaking the birds inside the box?” asked Janet.

“You just wait! I found a fine roof for my house, this afternoon, but I am not ready, yet, to roof the building. I want to nail some brackets on the bottom so the house can be nailed to a pole, then I will roof it and paint it green with white trimmings.”

Accordingly, Norma finished the house and then got out a basket filled with straw. An upright stick was fastened in the center of the top of the house and to this a wire netting was tacked, so that the edges overlapped the eaves of the roof, and the top fitted close to the upright. Upon this wire net Norma wove her thatched roof, which, when finished, looked very attractive and rustic.

“It looks great but it is going to be a dreadful work to fasten it in a tree, because it is so big and bulky,” said Janet.

“I’m not going to place it in a tree. It is going to be mounted on an old clothes pole that Rachel never uses. I’ve chosen the site of the house already,” laughed Norma.

“And you said you were going to paint it?” asked Natalie.

“Yes, I bought a can of green paint and a smaller one of white lead at the store yesterday. When it is on the pole I am going to paint the house and the pole, too.”

Norma then went to inspect the work of her companions. She found they had divided the starch boxes into four rooms, a room for each nest. But each opening was so placed that no bird need meet his neighbor, in coming to or going from his home. Under each door was a perch, or platform, for the birds to alight upon before entering the door of their house. Some of these perches were made by boring a tiny hole under the doorway and sticking a meat skewer firmly in. When the inside work was completed, the cover was shoved onto the starch boxes and nailed fast. A slat was attached to the bottom so the house could be nailed to a tree trunk and yet be out of reach of any prowling cat.

“I’m curious to know who will draw that other cheese box as their lot,” said Belle, as she added the finishing touches to her soap-box apartment house.

“Well, if no one else applies for it, I shall attach it for my own pleasure,” said Mrs. James. “But I warn you girls now—I propose building a modern flat-house with every conceivable convenience in it for my tenants. They will have sleeping porches, hot water day and night, elevator service, telephones, parquet floors—in fact, everything one looks for in a first-class modern apartment. So don’t feel jealous when you find the birds flock to rent my rooms, because you must remember my investment of labor will be twice as heavy as yours, and I deserve having the best tenants apply for my flats.”

The girls giggled at Mrs. James’s explanation, and Janet said: “What will you do if a sparrow or a blue jay applies for rooms?”

“I’ll ask him for references. If he can’t produce high-class references from other landlords, I’ll have none of him.”

The girls laughed at the reply, and Janet retorted: “The day of rent profiteers is past. You’ll be hauled into Court if you ask high rents.”

“Then I’ll fill my flats on a co-operative plan. That is best, anyway, I think. I will provide the house, and the tenants will provide the harmony,” said Mrs. James, smiling at her own foolishness.