Natalie: A Garden Scout

“I wonder how long it will be before those little things have flowers?” said Belle.

“Mrs. Tompkins told me that they would bud in two weeks at least. I mean, the portulaca and heliotrope and other old-fashioned plants she dug up for me. You see, they were already started in her garden, and this transplanting will only set them back a few days, she said.”

“Then you can begin to figure on an income in a month’s time, at the very latest,” teased Belle.

Norma made no reply to this laughing remark, but she was determined to show Belle that perseverance and persistence were great things that made for success.

It was past nine when the girls reached Green Hill Farm. As they entered the side gate they heard strange sounds coming from the barnyard. Everyone glanced at Janet to inquire the cause of the sounds.

“It sounds just like those piggies. What can they be squealing for at this hour?” said Mrs. James.

Janet looked guilty, but she said nothing. However, as soon as they reached the side piazza, she hurried on past the kitchen door and made for the barn.

Rachel heard the arrival and came out on the piazza. “Mis’ James, dem pigs ain’t kep’ still all night. I guv ’em some hot mush at six o’clock ’cause Janet fergot to feed ’em. But I ain’t goin’ to be no nuss-gal to any porkers when I’se got my house-wuk to look affer. Ef I wuz goin’ to raise hogs, I’d raise ’em, but I ain’t goin’ to do it fer no one else, nohow.”

Everyone laughed appreciatively, and Mrs. James added: “Janet told us she had forgotten the chickens to-night. But I told her there was no use in her returning home, then, as fowl went to roost with the sun, and would not want to be bothered again. I was not aware the pigs had been forgotten, too.”

“Wall, I kin tell her what ails ’em, but I jes’ thought I’d let her try to fin’ it out herself. Mebbe she’ll take a little interest in her business if she is left to do the wuk!” declared Rachel.

“What makes them squeal, Rachel? You can tell us, can’t you?” coaxed Natalie.

“Well den, dey ain’t got no beddin’ to sleep on, an’ t’ dish wid water is be’n upsot all evenin’, so dey ain’t got no drinkin’ water. Young pigs drink an orful lot of water an’ dey has to have good beddin’ to sleep on, or dey’ll squeal.”

After this explanation, the other girls were eager to go to the pig-pen and see what Janet was doing for the comfort of her investment. Natalie ran indoors and got an electric flashlight, and they all started for the barnyard, Rachel bringing up the rear.

Poor Janet was ready to scream, when they found her trying to hush the pigs. She would try to catch first one, then another to see if anything had happened to them, but they kept her jumping around the pen without her fingers ever touching their little pink hides.

After Mrs. James explained the cause of their rioting, Janet crawled over the closely-fitted laths that fenced them in; and all the girls started for the barn to find some fresh straw for a bed. Water had been given them, and the avidity with which they drank it showed how thirsty they had been.

When the bed was made up in the little house, the three weary little fellows ran in and were soon curled up to sleep. Then the girls followed Rachel back to the house, Janet listening very humbly to her discourse on “Cruelty to Domestic Animals.”

Early in the morning Norma was up, and without disturbing anyone, slipped down-stairs and started to work on the flower beds. She had listened so earnestly to Mrs. Tompkins’ advice about digging and fertilizing the soil, that she had finished the narrow beds that edged the house before the other girls came down.

“Why, Norma, you certainly are industrious,” said Mrs. James, when she saw all that had been accomplished.

“Isn’t it fun, Mrs. James! I never dreamed how nice it is to be a farmer. But I never want to be anything else, now.”

Belle laughed, for she was too dignified and superior to ever think of farm-work. Natalie watched Norma rake over the roundel that was the center of the turn-around in the drive from the road, and then remarked: “Where did you find the compost, Norma?”

Norma looked up and smiled. “Mrs. Tompkins told me how to mix the fertilizer found in a barnyard, and so I did. But I found some in a box over there by the vegetable gardens and I used some of that, too.”

“If I didn’t have to go and look after my vegetable gardens, Norma, I’d help you plant the flowers,” said Natalie. “But duty calls me, so I must obey.”

“I’ll help Norma plant the slips,” offered Janet.

“Your duty is calling you with a louder voice than Natalie’s ever could,” laughed Belle, holding up a finger to attract attention to the pig-pen.

The girls laughed, and Janet sighed. “I suppose it will be pigs, pigs, pigs all summer, whenever I have anything else I wish to do. Even that old hen misbehaves, and gets off the nest every time I examine the eggs to see if they are being pecked.”

Natalie had started for her garden by this time, but when she reached the low dividing fence at the end of the grass plat back of the kitchen, she screamed furiously and ran for her precious vegetables.

The other girls turned and ran over to see what had happened. Natalie was shooing the young chicks away from her tender green sprouts, but she dared not tramp upon her beds, so the broilers ran a few feet away and then stood eyeing her. They, seemingly, were but waiting for her to go away so they could resume their breakfast.

“That’s because Janet forgot to feed them last night for supper. Now all my young beets are eaten off the top! How can we ever raise anything to eat or sell, if her old pesky chickens keep this up!” wailed Natalie, examining the beets.

“They only managed to get a few of them, Nat! Thank your stars you got here when you did,” remarked Belle.

“I just bet it was those same horrid birds that destroyed my garden before! I never saw a crow after that, and I thought I had frightened them away with the scarecrow. But now, I’m sure it was the broilers!” declared Natalie.

“What a lot of satisfaction it will be to pick their bones,” suggested Frances. That made them all laugh and put Natalie in a better humor. Janet was wise enough to remain at her work with the pigs and chickens, and not venture near Natalie that morning.

At breakfast Natalie opened the subject. “Janet, you’ve got to keep those chickens in a yard. If they get into my garden again, I’m going to wring their necks and stew them for dinner!”

“Wait until they have a little more to them than skin and bone,” laughed Janet.

“They’ll make soup – if nothing more,” snapped Natalie.

“I was about to say, Janet, that you might get some wire-netting at the Corners, such as is used for runways for chickens,” suggested Mrs. James.

“How much will it cost? I can’t spend more than my allowance, you know,” answered Janet.

“I have a letter here, in reply to one I wrote Mr. Marvin, saying I was to use my own good judgment about the out-buildings. I wrote him that we ought to repair the coops and pens, as well as the barns, as soon as possible. And he says we can get whatever material we need for slight repairs at the Corners. He opened an account for us with Si Tompkins and this wire can be charged to that.”

“But I don’t see why you should pay for my chicken run, Mrs. James?” said Janet.

“We are going to repair it, anyway, whether you keep chickens in it, or someone else does it. If you are willing to help with the work to be done on it, we will consider it squared on the cost of the wire-netting and nails,” explained Mrs. James.

“I’ll go to the Corners right after breakfast and get the wire. Maybe I can find someone to drive me home again, so I won’t have to carry the awkward roll,” said Janet eagerly.

Norma was too busy with her flowers to join the other girls after breakfast, and Natalie said she saw some weeds growing up in her garden beds so she would have to get after them. Janet and Belle and Frances, therefore, started for the store, planning to help carry the roll of wire back home.

Mrs. James assisted Rachel with the housework as it was cleaning-day, and so everyone was engaged when an automobile stopped in front of the house.

Norma Evaston was carefully patting down the soil about a geranium plant when a shadow fell across it. She glanced up, and started in surprise when she saw Mr. Lowden smiling down at her.

“Good-morning, Norma. I thought to find Frances here, too, so I crept up the walk to surprise her,” said he.

“Oh, how did you get here? There isn’t a train until eleven,” returned Norma wonderingly.

“We came in the machine. Mrs. Lowden and I are going to leave it here for you to use this summer, so we thought it best to drive out and go back later by the train.”

“Why, Mr. Lowden! Frans only mailed that letter last night! How could you have received it already and driven here?” Norma puckered her brow as she tried to figure out what time the letter could have arrived in the city that morning, if it left Greenville at six o’clock.

“What letter?” It was now Mr. Lowden’s turn to be surprised.

“Oh, didn’t you know Frances wanted the car to use all summer as an investment?” asked Norma innocently.

“As an investment! What do you mean?”

“Yes, and we think it will be great fun, too,” returned Norma eagerly. “You see, I am going in for flowers to sell to tired homesick financiers downtown in New York. One sniff of a sprig of heliotrope or the cheerful nod of a pink standing in a glass of water on his desk will refresh one so that he will start out like a new man!

“Nat is raising vegetables. She has all the greens up above the ground already, but those hungry chickens ate off a number of her best ones, so that makes them look a bit messy just now. However, they will soon recover and grow as good as ever. The household will buy all its vegetables from her, and Solomon’s Seal Patrol expect to buy theirs from her, too.

“Janet went in for stock-farming. She only has a few pigs and the chickens as yet, but there are plenty of other things to get, as her allowance comes due. She is now planning to buy some guinea-hens, a flock of geese, some bees for honey, a few pigeons so we can have squabs, and other stock as time rolls by.

“But Frances chose to go into the service business. She is going to run an auto-bus from the station to the different destinations, and when we girls wish to take a pleasure-ride in the country, we all expect to pay a just price for the use of the car. By fall, Frans ought to have saved quite a sum of money, don’t you think so?”

Norma had talked so fast that Mr. Lowden could not have said a word had he wanted to; but he listened with face growing redder and redder, and when Norma concluded her amazing explanation he burst out laughing loud and long. His wife heard the mirth as she sat in the car waiting to learn if he had found the right place. Now she jumped out of the tonneau and ran over.

Norma sat back on her feet gazing up at the breathless man, when Mrs. Lowden joined the two. He tried to sober down enough to explain, but he spoke in gasps.

“Natalie raises vegetables for Solomon; Janet has turned stock-broker – her stock breaks down all of Natalie’s greens. Norma here is the philanthropist of the crowd, – she is about to raise flowers for heart-sick financiers. But our Frances is the Shylock of the party. She is going to charge fees for the use of an automobile that costs her nothing! What do you think of your daughter, now, Mabel?” And he laughed again, so heartily that Rachel came out to see who was with Norma.

Mrs. James soon followed Rachel, and the Lowdens were welcomed by the hostess. Norma could not stop her work long enough to sit down on the piazza and visit, but she sent this advice after Mr. Lowden as he was about to mount the porch-steps:

“Janet went to the Corners for chicken-wire and you can do the girls a great favor by going for them with the car. Belle and Frances went with Jan, to take turns carrying the roll. But I guess it is going to be awfully heavy for them!”

Mr. Lowden then excused himself for a time, and left his wife with Mrs. James. He soon had the car speeding along the road that went to the Corners, and Norma felt she had done her friends a good turn. But she never dreamed that Frances had not mentioned the automobile as a money-maker for that summer.

When the machine came back with the girls and their roll of wire-netting, Frances looked disconsolate. Norma was wondering whether her father had refused her the car for business purposes, and so she stopped planting long enough to join the party on the piazza.

“What do you think, Norma? Dad says I have to be sixteen before I can have a license to drive a jitney. If I drive without one, that old lazy Amity Parsons will arrest me. And if I use someone else’s license, I can be heavily fined. That explodes all my ambition!” exclaimed Frances woefully.

But Janet came to the rescue, as usual. “Say, Mr. Lowden, Frans can drive the car without a license if she has someone in the seat beside her who does have a regular license.”

“Who can I have?” demanded Frances.

“Well, I don’t know! I haven’t thought of that, yet!” admitted Janet.

“I can drive a car, so there is no excuse why I should not be able to secure one,” said Mrs. James thoughtfully.

“The main point is – we’ve got the car here to use for the summer, and the other points can be covered as we reach them,” remarked Janet.

Mr. Lowden laughed again, for all this business ambition was highly amusing to him. But he had no objections to the automobile remaining at Green Hill Farm during his absence in the west, and the girls all breathed easier when they heard his verdict.

“Well, you can argue out the question about a jitney license, but I must go back to my flowers,” said Norma, getting up from the steps and starting for the roundel.

“And I must start work on that chicken-fencing. If it is to be done before nightfall, I must ask help, too,” said Janet, beckoning Belle to help her carry the roll of wire.

Mr. and Mrs. Lowden were invited to stay to dinner but they declined with regrets, as they were to be back in New York soon after noon. Then Frances said: “I’ll have to drive you to the station to catch the only train that stops at Greenville this afternoon, and how will I get back if I haven’t a license?”

“I’ll accompany you, Frances, and later we will have to plan a way out of the difficulty,” said Mrs. James.

Good-bys were said, and the girls stood on the piazza waiting to see the car start off, when Rachel came out. “Hey, Mis’ James! I got it! Jes’ hol’ up a minit, will yuh?”

She hurried down the walk and ran out of the gate to lay her plan before the owners of the automobile.

“Yuh all knows my nephew Sam in Noo York? Well, he got a shover’s license las’ spring cuz he figgered on drivin’ somebody’s car this summer in the country. But we all know what a easy-goin’ darky he is, too!

“He diden have ambichun enough to hunt out a place, so he jes’ waited fer a plum to drap in his mout’. Ef he is in Noo York, he’ll be at dis address, sure! Ef I tells him to come out heah, widdout fail, to run dat car, he’ll come quick as lightnin’. Ef us gives him room an’ board, he oughter be glad fer the chants. Den no one kin pester Mis’ Francie ’bout license, er nuttin. An’ Sam kin make hisself useful to me by bringin’ in coal an’ wood fer t’ kitchen fire, an’ doin’ odd jobs about t’ place.”

This information seemed to suit Mr. Lowden exactly, and he turned to Rachel to say: “I’ll find him, Rachel, never fear – if he is to be found in the city. Look for him in the next day or two.”

Then saying good-by again, they drove away.

CHAPTER XII – GRIT INVITES HIMSELF TO GREEN HILL

The vegetables, animals, and flowers might have experienced gross neglect during the next few days, after the automobile arrived, had it not been for Mrs. James’ insistence that “duty came before pleasure.” Even so, Natalie spent no time weeding the beds but gave the “farmer’s curse” ample opportunity to thrive luxuriantly.

The third day after the Lowdens had promised to hunt up Sam and send him to Green Hill Farm, a most unique post-card came for Rachel. It had the picture of the Woolworth Building on one side, and the information that this was a “gift card” given to those who visited the tower. On the side with the address, Sam printed with lead-pencil, “Deer ant: wurd cam fer me to be shoffer at yur place. Money O. K. comin rite away. sam.”

This elaborate epistle was displayed by Rachel with so much family pride that the girls had hard work to keep straight faces. But they knew how hurt Rachel would be if she thought the writing was illiterate, so they said nothing.

“If that card was mailed yesterday, as the postmark shows it was, Sam ought to be here to-day,” said Mrs. James.

“Yes, but he won’t get here in time to drive us to Ames’s farm for the guinea-hens,” said Natalie.

“As that will be my last act of law-breaking, I’ll drive,” announced Frances.

Therefore, the girls hurried away in the car. They had not gone more than half the distance to Dorothy Ames’s home, when Natalie saw a dog following the machine.

“Go home, old fellow!” called she, waving her hat to drive him back.

But the dog stood momentarily still and wagged his stumpy tail, then galloped after the car again, to make up for lost time.

“Girls, what shall we do with that dog?” cried Natalie in distress. “If he follows us much further he may get lost.”

Frances stopped the car and called the dog to her. He stood with front paws on the running-board and looked up at her with happy eyes.

“He’s a fine Collie, girls. Look at his head and the lines of his body. Someone get out and look at the collar for the owner’s name,” said Frances, leaning over to study the dog.

Belle got out and having examined the collar, remarked: “No name on it. It’s just a plain leather affair with a frayed rope-end still attached to the ring.”

The dog gave a short friendly yelp at Belle and wagged his tail rapidly, as a token of good fellowship.

“Let him run after us if he wants to, then we will take him back with us when we return,” suggested Janet.

“We’d better have him jump inside the car, then, so he won’t stray while our attentions are turned,” ventured Norma.

So the dog was given room in the tonneau where he stood and watched over the side of the machine as they flew along the road.

Arrived at Dorothy Ames’s farm, he waited until the door was opened, then he leaped out and pranced about the girls.

“That’s some dog you girls got there!” declared Mr. Ames, as he came forward to welcome his visitors.

“Yes, he must belong to someone living near Green Hill. He ran after our car as we turned from the state road into this road,” explained Natalie.

“I ain’t never seen him about afore. I knows every dog fer ten mile around Greenville, and there hain’t no farmer that kin afford a’ animal like that,” returned Mr. Ames.

“Why – is he a good one?” wondered Janet.

“Got every point a prize-winnin’ Collie ought to have. I wish he was my dog! I’d win a blue ribbon on him,” said Mr. Ames, as he examined the dog critically.

“Then someone will worry until he is home again,” said Norma concernedly.

The dog seemed not to worry, however, for he yawned and followed the girls about as if he had known them since puppyhood. Mr. Ames told the girls that the dog must be about two years old, and certainly showed he had been accustomed to a good living.

The guinea-hens were selected, several pigeons ordered to be delivered in a few days when the house would be ready, and a number of young goslings spoken for. Janet was not going to lose time planning for a stock-farm business and not act, it seemed.

“If you gals are going to take the dog back the way he came, you’d better not try to take the crate with the hens, too. I’ll leave them on my way to the Corners,” advised Mr. Ames.

The business matters settled, Frances spoke of her new line of work. “If you folks ever want to rent a car for a trip, or when you want to go to the station, just call me on the ’phone and I’ll come for you. I am starting a jitney-line and am always on hand for my clients.”

Mr. Ames laughed and said: “Sort of runnin’ opposition to Amity, eh?”

“Well, not opposition, exactly, as Amity is never about to attend to business. But I intend running the car faithfully, as anyone who is in the public service should do,” said Frances.

“What about a license?” questioned the farmer wisely.

“Oh, that’s taken care of. My chauffeur, Sam White, is going to drive the machine, while I act as conductor.”

Mr. Ames laughed again, heartier than ever, and Dorothy smiled sympathetically at Frances. Then she said: “I wish I had something to do besides churning butter and working on the farm.”

“Well, Dorothy, just you stick to us Girl Scouts and we’ll find you some desirable field of labor,” said Janet encouragingly.

Soon after this the girls started homeward, the dog jumping in without being invited and sitting up in the place provided him before. The girls patted him and said he was a clever fellow. That started his tail wagging violently and his tongue panting with pleasure.

At Green Hill, Mrs. James watched the girls stop at the side piazza, and then, to her surprise, she saw the dog jump out of the car. He stood waiting for his companions to alight and then he sprang up the steps and wagged his tail at her.

“What a fine dog,” said Mrs. James, patting his head. “Whose is he?”

“We don’t know, Jimmy. He just followed us after we left the state road. Mr. Ames says he doesn’t belong to anyone around here, ’cause he knows every dog in the county,” answered Natalie.

“He must have lost his way, then. Maybe he was with a party of autoists who passed that way. They will surely come back to hunt for him, so we had better hang a large sign out on the tree by the front gate,” said Mrs. James.

“That’s a good plan,” assented Natalie. “I’ll run in and get a cardboard box and print the sign.”

“Don’t describe the dog, – just say we found a strayed canine,” advised Janet.

“If no one comes for him, we may as well keep him until we determine what to do about it,” added Natalie.

“We must find a name for him, too. What do you suppose he was called?” asked Mrs. James.

“If we knew that, we might have a clue to his owners,” laughed Janet.

“The best way to name him is this way,” suggested Natalie. “Let each one write a name on a slip of paper and fold it up. Rachel shall deal out the votes and the last one out of the box shall be his name. How is that?”

“Good! Run and get the paper, Nat,” laughed Janet.

So in a few moments six slips of paper were cut and handed out. The pencil was passed around and everyone wrote her choice of a name for the dog. Rachel was called out to collect the votes in an old hat, and when they were well shaken she removed them, one by one, until the last one was taken up.

She opened it slowly and spelled out carefully: “G-r-i-t.”

“Ho, Grit, that is my choice!” shouted Natalie, clapping her hands. As if the dog was pleased with his name, he jumped around madly and barked shrilly.

“He seems to like his name,” said Janet, laughing at the way the animal tried to lick Natalie’s face.

“Maybe it sounds something like his real one,” suggested Mrs. James.

“Wall, whatever it is, I says he oughter have a pan of water to drink. Affer all dis excitement he needs refreshin’,” remarked Rachel, going to the kitchen and calling the dog to follow her.

He went obediently, and just as the girls began to plan the sign, and what to write thereon, the gate clicked. Mrs. James leaned over the piazza rail to see who was coming in, and saw a short, fat, colored youth of about eighteen, approaching.

“It must be Sam, – Rachel’s nephew,” whispered Mrs. James.

The expected chauffeur saw the party on the piazza and removed his cap politely, but his face expressed trouble, and he sighed as he stopped at the foot of the steps.

“You are Sam, aren’t you?” began Mrs. James.

“Yas’m, an’ I would huv be’n here long ago, as I writ, but I lost my bes’ friend and be’n huntin’ him fer more’n an hour.” Again Sam sighed heavily and his eyes were moist.

“Oh, what a pity!” exclaimed Mrs. James. “How did it happen, Sam?”