Natalie: A Garden Scout

When Mr. Ames was ready to drive home, his two companions were ready also. Soon after they had left the Corners Natalie spoke of their desire to visit his brother’s to buy a pig.

Janet instantly added: “And I want some chickens, too. Must I have a hen set on eggs to raise them?”

“You kin do as you like about that! I kin sell you’se some young chicks cheap, and you kin raise ’em. Then you kin buy a settin’ hen and raise a brood that way, too. An’ you’se kin keep some old fowl fer layin’ aigs to use in the cookin’.”

“Dear me, how much would all that cost me?” worried Janet.

“Wall, the aigs fer settin’ ain’t more’n other kinds. Th’ old hen’ll cost yuh about two dollars. Layin’ hens cost about one-fifty each, an’ a good rooster’ll cost near abouts two-fifty. The leetle chicks won’t cost no more’n twenty-five cents each.”

“Oh, that is fine! I can do that, all right!” cried Janet delightedly.

“How much will the pig cost her?” asked Natalie.

“Not much. When my brother has such a big litter as this one is, I’ve known him to give away a few of the little porkers before they cost him anything fer feed.”

Natalie and Janet exchanged looks! Plainly they said: “Oh, if only those pigs haven’t cost him anything for feed!”

“How about keepin’ right on to my brother’s farm, now?” asked Mr. Ames, as they drew near the Green Hill house.

“That will be all right! We’ll just let Jimmy know,” replied Natalie delightedly.

Farmer Ames was a kindly soul, but he had a keen sense of business as well. When he heard the two girls talk of buying a pig and chickens, he wished to close the bargain without delay for his brother and himself. If they had time to think it over, they might change their minds, and he would lose a sale. So he proposed that they go right on then and conclude the business.

“How about paying for them, now, Mr. Ames?” asked Janet. “I have to write home for my money, and that will take a few days.”

“Oh, don’t let that worry you any. Let my brother do the worryin’ about his pay,” laughed Mr. Ames jokingly.

Mrs. James consented to their going to the stock-farm then and there, but reminded the girls that the chicken-coops and pig-pens were not ready to receive any living creatures yet.

“Oh, we’ll fix all that when we get back,” called Janet as they drove away.

Janet found the stock-farm so interesting that she almost forgot the real cause of their visit – the enlisting of Dorothy in the new Patrol. The little pink pigs were so alluring in their antics that Janet decided to buy the three which had been separated from the mother and had been weaned.

The price asked seemed ridiculously cheap, compared to what butchers in the city charged for a pound of pork. So the three pigs were placed in a small box and the top was slatted down to keep the lively little things in bounds.

When this thrilling business matter had been concluded, Natalie told Dorothy about the new Patrol they wished to launch. They had no trouble whatever in gaining Dorothy’s eager consent to become a member, as she had long wanted to be a Scout. So the two girls started homeward about noontime, feeling that they had accomplished a wonderful day’s business in many ways.

“We’ll jest stop at my house to let you choose some hens an’ chicks, an’ I’ll deliver ’em in the mornin’, when I drive by.”

“Why can’t we take them along with us to-night?” asked Janet.

“Cuz it is hard work to ketch hens in the daytime whiles they are scratchin’ around. But onct they go to roost at night, it is easy to get hold of ’em without excitin’ ’em too much.”

Natalie and Janet gazed at the various chickens they found about the place, and Natalie whispered to her companion when the farmer was not near by:

“Janet, choose the biggest ones you see, because Mr. Ames said they were all the same price. Some of these are awfully small while some are great heavy hens. You won’t be taking advantage of him, you know, if he said we could take any we liked.”

“That’s so! I might take those big white hens with the yellow legs,” replied Janet.

“Yes, they’re nice-looking, too. Those dappled ones are not a bit picturesque; nor are those smaller hens with red-brown plumage. The white ones will look so nice walking around our lawn.”

So Janet selected six of the largest white hens she could find in the entire flock of several hundred chickens. Mr. Ames remonstrated in vain that she had better take Rhode Island Reds, or some of the guinea hens instead. She wanted the big white ones.

“And we’ll take that lovely rooster with the wonderful tail,” added Janet, selecting one with marvellous hues in his cock-plumes when the sun changed its colors to variegated beauty.

“He ain’t no good fer a rooster, Miss,” said Mr. Ames.

Natalie whispered advice again. “Janet, I believe he wants to keep him for himself. Don’t let him do it.”

“Mr. Ames, I’ll take the one with those pretty feathers, or I won’t buy any!” declared Janet firmly.

“Oh, all right, Miss. I don’t care what you choose as long as you want them. But I’m tellin’ you-all, them hens is old and that rooster is sickly,” explained Mr. Ames, in a tone that said plainly: “I wash my hands of all your future complaints.”

“Now how about the young chicks you told us about? Can I buy some of them?” asked Janet, when hens and rooster were noted on a paper.

“Yeh; come with me and I’ll show you the kind you’d best get to start with. They’re about three to four weeks old and kin scratch fer themselves and eat whatever they find. You kin let them run wild, and they’ll get stronger that way.”

Then the chicks were selected and Mr. Ames found a hen that was wanting to set on a nest of eggs. So he picked up the hen and put her in a feed-bag. Both Natalie and Janet cried in fear lest she smother before they reached home.

“Nah, she’s ust to such ways. I’ll set her when we git over to Green Hill, and you gals kin pick out the eggs and slip ’em under her to-night when it is dark. Then she won’t bother you.”

All this was very interesting to the two girls who had never heard a word about raising chickens, or setting hens, before. So Mr. Ames drove them home in high spirits. The crate holding the pigs was left by the kitchen steps, and the hen placed in the coop on some china eggs, until Janet could select other eggs.

On his way past the house again, Mr. Ames called to Mrs. James: “Them churries oughter be picked soon. Ef you want me and my man to do it, we kin come this afternoon, likely.”

Rachel overheard and said: “Mis’ James, pickin’ ox-hearts is fun fer gals. Dem trees is jus’ bustin’ wid fruit a-waitin’ a lot of young gals’ hands to pick ’em. Ef I wuz you, Honey, I’d give Mr. Ames an answer in th’ mawnin’. One night moh won’t hurt the fruit, nohow.”

The farmer sent an angry glance at Rachel, but she met it with effrontery. When Mrs. James said, “I think I will wait until to-morrow before deciding,” Rachel grinned at the discomfited man.

He drove away without loss of time, and merely said: “I’ll bring them chickens over to-morrer.”

The moment he was out of hearing, Rachel said eagerly: “Why, Mis’ James, them Girl Scouts down at camp’ll give their haids to climb them trees and pick cherries on shares fer you. Charity begins to home, so let our gals get the benefit, says I!”

“Oh yes, Jimmy! Then Janet and I can help them, too. It will be heaps of fun, I think. We have a good ladder in the barn, and another shorter one in the cellar, so some of us can pick the outside boughs while the others climb up and do the inside branches,” planned Natalie.

Mrs. James studied the blue sky seriously. Then said: “I suppose we ought to pick them at once, then, while the weather is good. Once a rain sets in, cherries will rot. The birds, too, are ruining the ripe fruit with their pickings, so we ought to begin work immediately after luncheon.”

“I’ll tell you, then!” exclaimed Natalie. “While you and Rachel get the luncheon out, Janet and I will hurry to camp and ask Miss Mason if her girls want to do the work.”

“I’m sure they will be crazy to do it,” added Janet.

So the two friends ran down to the woodland camp where a bevy of merry Girl Scouts were just finishing their dinner. Natalie told what brought her there, and added: “We ought to be able to pick all the cherries before sundown, don’t you think so, Miss Mason?”

“Why, yes, if so many of us work. But we might break down the branches if we all climb in the trees,” said she.

“Some of us will use ladders, and some climb the trees. There are three, you know, so we can plan to be on different boughs to pick,” explained Natalie.

The Scouts donned their overalls which they generally used in outdoor work about camp, and started back with Natalie. At the house they were told that the fruit was to be gathered on shares, and each girl could sell her cherries to Mrs. James, or keep them, as she chose. Then the pickers were given baskets, or pails, and sent to the trees, where Natalie and Janet joined them after luncheon.

The step-ladder found in the attic was brought down and placed under the tree with the low boughs. One girl mounted this and began to pick from its top step. The long ladder from the barn was placed against another tree so that the topmost branches could be reached by careful work, and a short ladder was put against the lower boughs.

Natalie eagerly climbed up in the branches of one of the trees and began to pick quickly. She had a two-quart tin pail that was hung over a short branch near her hands, and as she began to pick the cherries, she sang or called to her companions. Rachel smiled approvingly as she heard her “Honey-Chile” so happy, then she turned to go back to her kitchen and start a big supper for so many Girl Scouts that night.

After a time, Janet called to Natalie: “Say, aren’t a lot of the cherries bad from the pecking the birds gave them?”

“Yes, and it’s a shame, too! I pick what seems to be a luscious cherry, and when it is in my hand, it turns out to have a great rotted spot on the other side,” added one of the Scouts.

“If the birds would only keep at the same cherry and finish it, instead of flying from one to another and taking a nip out of each,” said Natalie.

“Well, you see, they bite the ripe spot out of the cherry, and then fly to another good ripe mouthful. It is easier that way than trying to turn their heads around the cherry to eat the opposite side,” laughed Janet.

“Girls!” now shouted Natalie, making a quick dash at something about her head. “Do these horrid little yellow-jackets annoy you, too?”

“They are after the decayed cherries,” called a Scout.

“They are not yellow-jackets, are they? I thought they were hornets,” said another Scout.

“They’re both – there is a hornet, now – buzzing about my ear!” cried Janet.

At that very moment, a sharp scream from Natalie caused every girl to turn her head and see what had happened. In another moment a crash of branches and a flash of a body falling down through the leaves made several of the Scouts cry out in fright.

Natalie had been picking the cherries from the topmost branches, as she liked to sit up high and pelt the stones from the fruit she ate, down at the girls’ heads, to tease them. The hornets had a small nest in the top of the tree, but Natalie was not aware of that. As she called and laughed at her friends, the hornets began to grow excited, and when they found the annoyance failed to go away but came ever nearer their nest, they buzzed about and threatened in angry terms. Still Natalie paid no attention to what they said to her. She thought they wanted to feed on the rotten fruit, whereas they merely wished her to go and leave them in peace.

At last the disturbance was too much for one of the old hornets. He flew in circles about her head and scolded until his exasperation took form in the offensive. Natalie’s neck was a very advantageous spot and she could not see him when he lit on her collar and quickly crept up to the soft smooth skin in the nape of the neck.

Without further warning he drove in his dagger-point and Natalie screamed with pain. Forgetting that she was up in a tree, and must cling fast to the boughs, she suddenly put both hands to her neck. The natural result was, she fell down so quickly that her friends could not get to her assistance in time to do a thing.

Smaller twigs and branches had given way with her weight and she would have fallen to the ground, had not a friendly bough caught her under the arms and suspended her momentarily. Then the smaller bough that grew from the friendly one snapped short off under the girl’s weight, and the sharp up-thrusting section left on the tree ran right through the suspender-straps at the back of her overalls. There she hung, like a toy doll on a Christmas Tree, – her feet dangling and her head and hands helplessly held out to be taken down by some kind friend.

The terrifying scream brought Rachel running from the kitchen and Mrs. James up from the cellar, where she had gone to hunt for more containers for the cherries. When Rachel saw what had happened she wrung her fat hands in agony.

“Oh, m’ Honey! My li’l’ chile – hang on t’ dat limb fer all you’se wuth!” yelled she. Then she rushed over the grass to the rescue, – but Natalie dangled just out of reach above her head.

Janet slid down the rough trunk of the cherry-tree the moment she heard her friend shriek. Her thin stockings hung in strips when she reached the ground, and her legs were skinned from knees to ankles, but she felt no pain, as she was so excited over the outcome of this accident.

“Quick! Someone get that step-ladder we had here!” cried she, jumping up and down in her fear that Natalie would let go and fall; yet she was too excited to run for the ladder herself.

Rachel instantly comprehended and jumped across the intervening space between the two trees and caught a firm hold of the lower part of the step-ladder. She never stopped to see if anyone was on the top step. But one of the Scouts had been standing on it with her form hidden in the foliage of the tree. As Rachel whirled the ladder out from under her, the Scout was left in mid-air, instinctively clutching the branches to save herself.

The other Scouts had descended the trees by this time, and some ran over to help save Natalie, while others stopped under the tree where the new accident threatened to take place.

“Help! Help!” yelled the girl who was dangling from a bough.

Miss Mason had been measuring the cherries impartially, half for the individual pickers and half for Mrs. James, when the first accident happened. She was out of the house and crossing the grass when the second scream reached her ears. She saw an old hemp hammock hanging from a clothes pole on the drying-place, and had a sudden idea.

The hammock was snatched and carried over to the tree where the Scout hung. “Here, girls! Spread it out quickly! We will have a life-saving net and win a reward for our presence of mind!” ordered the teacher.

The Scouts instantly obeyed and the net was spread even as May wailed: “I have to let go! My hands won’t hold on longer!”

“All right! Drop!” commanded Miss Mason. “We’ll save you.”

May yelled and let go. She was caught in the meshes of the old hammock, but the hemp was so rotten that in another moment it separated and let May down on the grass. However, it had answered its purpose, for the time, and had broken her fall.

While this “first-aid” was being given, Rachel ran, in great excitement, back to assist Natalie. She had hastily placed the extra-high step-ladder under the tree and, without taking time to see that the braces that hold back and front sections firmly apart were not taut, she began to mount the steps to reach her “Honey.”

Half-way up, the now overbalanced ladder started to sway uncertainly, and Rachel gasped as she wildly tried to clutch something to steady herself. Natalie’s feet were the only available things in sight.

“Ough! Mis’ James! Heigh, down dere – someone grab hol’ on dis ladder!” shouted Rachel, her eyes almost popping from her head.

“Wait! Hold on, Rachel!” called a chorus of voices below.

The ladder was still quaking uncertainly when Rachel lost courage and began to descend precipitously, without stopping to find a sure footing on the steps. Consequently, she missed the second step from the bottom and sat down unceremoniously in a bushel of ripe ox-hearts.

“Umph!” was the grunt that was forced from her lungs, but the Scouts all howled with dismay when they saw the result to their patient cherry picking.

Janet did not stop to see what was occurring to Rachel. The moment she saw the mammy come down, she ran up the steps and steadied herself by holding to the bough from which Natalie still swung. Miss Mason managed to hold the bottom of the ladder until Janet had guided her friend’s feet to the top step. Then the strain on the suspenders was loosened and it was easy to unbuckle the straps at the back of the overalls.

In a few more moments, Natalie was helped down the ladder and once more stood on terra firma. But such a funny sight was presented her when she breathed in safety once more, that she momentarily forgot the hornet sting and laughed wildly.

Mrs. James had called several of the Scouts to help her in pulling Rachel up out of the bushel basket upon her feet again. This muscular deed was accomplished just as Natalie stepped down on the ground. But Rachel’s percale bungalo-gown was a sight!

The luscious ripe cherries were mashed all over her skirt, and half of the fruit in the basket was crushed as if done by a fruit-press. Rachel was torn between two fires – that of humble apology to the scout-pickers for spoiling their “fruits of labor” and concern over Natalie who was holding her hand over the back of her neck. Mother-instinct that was so deeply rooted in Rachel, although she had never had a child of her own, won the day and she ran over to Natalie to ascertain the extent of the troublesome sting.

“Oh, mah pore Honey! Mah sweet li’l’ chile – did dem nasty bees sting yoh?” Rachel cried, enfolding Natalie in her capacious embrace. Then she added, “Now jus’ you-all wait a minit, chillun, an’ I’ll soon git dat stinger out.”

Consequently she made a soft paste of mud and water, and slapped a handful of it on Natalie’s neck. Then she tied a towel over it to keep it in place.

“Now, Honey, yoh jus’ sit heah wid yoh haid down in front, so’s dat mud won’t run down yoh back,” advised she.

Natalie obeyed, albeit the mud did ooze in trickles down her back and fill up at her belt in a dried lump.

The pain of the sting was soon over, and Natalie tried to gather some more cherries, but she kept away from the top of the tree where the hornets still buzzed angrily about. The other Scouts also kept a safe distance from that nest.

By sundown all the cherries were picked, and the quantity evenly divided into shares. Each girl had made a pile of the fruit she gathered, and so no Scout felt that another was benefiting by her work. But when all was measured out, it was found that the girls had picked about the same quantities, with but little variation.

That evening while enjoying Rachel’s bountiful supper, the Scout girls were told about the new Patrol that Janet and Natalie were hoping to start. That was a very engrossing subject and no one gave a thought to things outside, until it was time for the Scouts to return to camp. Then a plaintive squealing came from a crate placed on the piazza, and Janet suddenly remembered the pigs.

“Oh, horrors! Will little pigs die if they have been left without a thing to eat for a day?” wailed she, as she clasped her hands in shocked concern.

Everyone laughed at her, and Mrs. James said: “Not if you attend to them at once. But they will have to live in the crate overnight, as nothing can be done about housing them now.”

So Rachel mixed a dish of warm milk and corn meal for the wailing squealers, and soon hushed their clamorings. Janet felt guilty of gross neglect on the first night of her business investment, but Natalie tried to condole with her by saying:

“Well, cherries, and pigs, and new Scouts can’t all be gathered in one day, you know.”

This created such a laugh at the quaint combination of the triple interests, that Janet felt relieved in mind. After the Scouts had gone back to camp, Natalie reminded Janet of the eggs they were to give the hen for setting.

“We’ll do that now,” said Janet anxiously.

So the two girls went to the pantry without asking advice of Rachel or Mrs. James, and counted out twelve eggs. These were carefully carried to the hen-coop and after many wild squawkings from the hen, and concerned action by the two farmerettes, seven of the twelve eggs remained unbroken and were placed under the future mother of a family.

“My! I wouldn’t want to experience a skirmish with a hen very often,” said Janet, counting the scratches on her hands and arms after they reëntered the kitchen.

“Neither would I,” agreed Natalie, holding her hands and wrists under the cold water faucet to let the cooling flood wash away the signs of battle with the hen’s sharp bill.

“Well, she’s got seven sound eggs to hatch, anyway. When we get time to spare, we will put a few other eggs under her, so we can have the full dozen chicks as Mr. Ames advised.”

“I never knew it was such a simple matter to raise chicks, did you?” remarked Natalie, as she wiped her hands on the kitchen towel.

“No, and when you think of all the money we pay for roast chicken in New York, it makes you want to live always on a farm, doesn’t it?” added Janet.

But neither girl knew that many store eggs were not suitable for hatching chicks. They had not examined the yolks as chicken farmers do, to see if the egg was fertilized. So they had placed two suitable eggs, and five unfertilized eggs, under the hen. When but two chicks would result from that experiment, what a disappointment there would be. Janet would be sure to declare that stock-raising wasn’t such an easy business, after all!

CHAPTER X – TRIALS OF A FARMER’S LIFE

Mr. Ames brought the chickens and hens early in the morning, and so interested was Natalie in Janet’s stock-investment that the vegetable gardens were quite forgotten for a few days. Sunday she had spent at camp with the Girl Scouts; Monday she and Janet had gone to the Corners and enlisted girls to join them in a new Patrol, and in the afternoon they had picked cherries; then on Tuesday the chickens came, and some sort of a house had to be built for the pigs, as well as for the hens. So three days had passed by and she had not had time to inspect her gardens.

Farmer Ames acted huffy because the cherries had all been gathered when he drove up to the kitchen door in the morning. So he merely delivered the crate containing the hens and young chicks, and having handed Rachel the basket of eggs for the setting hen, drove away again.

“Dear me! I wanted to ask him how big a pen to build for three pigs!” sighed Janet, when she heard he had gone.

“No ’count why he hes to tell yuh that! I rickon anyone like me, what’s borned and brought up on a farm in Norf Car’liny, kin help dat way, better’n an ole grumpy farmer in Noo York state,” announced Rachel.

“All right, Rach, I’ll be thankful of your advice,” replied Janet, gazing down at the squirming pigs.

So Natalie and Janet occupied themselves most industriously in the building of a pig-pen for the little porkers, and in mending the old hen-house and chicken run. A separate coop was found where the setting hen might brood quietly on the eggs, and the young chicks were given their freedom of the place, because Rachel said they would grow much faster if they could run about and scratch.

But this advice had dire results, as Natalie learned, too late.

By sundown the pigs were nicely housed, and the old hens and rooster found comfortable roosts in a remodelled hen-house. The young chicks clustered together in the chicken yard and were driven inside the house by the persuasive “s-sh’s” and waving hands of the concerned farmerettes.

These important matters disposed of for the day and Rachel not having announced supper, Natalie said: “Come with me to see my garden. I haven’t had a moment’s time to visit it lately.”

“I suppose the lettuce is large enough to pull, now,” laughed Janet teasingly.