The Library of Work and Play: Gardening and Farming.

The door opened. A gust of wind and rain literally swept five boys, wet and breathless, into the room. The man at the big oak table in front of a huge open fire looked up, smiled, and said, "Off with your duds, boys! Bar the door securely, Jay, for it's a wild night. Throw a fresh log on the fire, Albert. And all line up."

For a few moments the big cheerful room seemed full of wriggling, twisting boys as great coats were pulled off and hung up carefully on pegs at the far end of the room. It was a rule here at The Chief's home that things should always be shipshape. Then the "line up" came. This was a little ceremony the boys always went through, having dropped into it quite of their own accord. They formed a line in front of the open fire with backs to it and faces toward the man. Then they solemnly saluted in military style. At this The Chief arose, saluted, and by a wave of the hand assigned each boy to his place at the table.

This little group of boys had formed itself naturally into a club. It met with The Chief every Saturday night. He was really no chief, this big, boy-loving man who had come to spend a while in this little country village, to rest and to write. The boys had named him The Chief because, as Albert said, "He could lead any tribe and tame any savage." At this Albert always laughed for he himself had been called a savage so many times he almost believed he was one.

The boys dropped into their places. Jay, or the "Little Chief" as the boys called him, sat opposite the Big Chief at the end of the table and right in front of the fire. He was slim and tall and light of foot. He could run faster, throw farther, and play better than any other boy in the village. He always led, he never bullied, he played fair, so the other boys always followed.

Albert, Jay's brother, big and heavy and as full of mischief as he could hold, took his place at The Chief's right hand. Albert called this his place of honour although knowing full well that he was there so The Chief might have him within reach. Next to Albert came George, frank-faced and bashful, sturdy and loyal. Opposite him red-headed, stubby Peter sat always on the edge of his chair, always with a bit of a smile on his face, never talking much, always agreeing good-naturedly. Beside Peter and at The Chief's left was Jack, who wriggled constantly like a young eel.

After the boys were seated and quiet, The Chief pushed back his work, a plan of his summer's garden, leaned back in his chair and said, "I think first we had better take up your reports." Then he pointed at Jay who began: "Well, when Albert and I asked father for a piece of the garden for our very own to work exactly as we pleased this summer, with no questions asked or answered, he laughed. He said that Albert wouldn't stick to it a day."

"I will, just the same," shouted out Albert quite red in the face.

"Just keep out of this, Savage, until I get through."

The man laid a restraining hand on Albert's arm and Jay continued: "But I begged father, and told him we'd always worked for him, and he might let us try for ourselves. Besides, I told him we'd not shirk his work. So finally he said we each could have the ten hills in the corn patch for the experiment, just as you wished. And then-"

"And then," broke in Albert, unable longer to contain himself, "what do you think he gave us? It's just no use trying, for he gave us an old piece of land below the barn. It's a regular old swamp; why, water stands there the whole spring long, and it takes half the summer to dry it out. Then it gets hard as a brick. Now what is the use of trying on that?"

"We'll take it just the same, and so we told father," continued Jay. "We have just got to make that old land do something."

The Chief nodded and pointed to George for his report. "Same here," began George. "My father wouldn't listen at all at the first; then he said I might have the hills of corn. He threw in also an old side slope which he thinks is too poor for any use." George sank back in his chair in a quite dejected manner.

It was now Jack's turn. "You see," he began at his lightning rate, "we haven't much land anyway, seeing as we live in the village. I can have the backyard, such as it is, but that's precious little use. It's never been used for a garden, and it's full of rock. One of our neighbours says I may have a piece of her corn patch for my corn, if I'll take care of hers, too. Of course I took her offer. Just had to."

Peter took his turn last, as usual. "We have no place at our home; too much lawn, and mother will not have it cut up. Grandfather said I might have any place I wanted in his garden if I'd really care for it myself."

"My!" said Albert, "what a snap! Your grandfather has the best garden land around here. You'll win The Chief's five dollars for the best garden; you just can't help yourself. I'd like to punch you, Peter, for having such luck."

Peter smiled a little more broadly. "Fin sorry the garden's so good, but I can't help it."

"It's all right, Peter," began The Chief; "after all, boys, I believe we are not having such bad luck. Cheer up! We are going to surprise those fathers of yours, and have a good time out of it, too. Jay and Albert have a big problem of draining; George has simply got to put that sandy slope in shape; it looks as if Jack would have to fill in for his garden; and Peter-well, some of you may beat Peter yet."

At this last Peter smiled, Jack skilfully tumbled him off his chair and Albert gave a war whoop. The Chief called his meeting to order again.

"And now, boys, I shall see you each one separately about your garden problems. Remember, not a word at home, for we are going to surprise the people. And at our next regular meeting, and at all others this winter we shall have reports on the manner in which you are going to get at your work and the way in which you will beat conditions. In this way we can keep track of each other's work. We must make our plans, too, on paper, which will help out. We have catalogues to write for, garden stakes to make, and no end of things will come up. But first you boys ought to understand a bit more than you do about the soil. It is a storehouse of good things. Knowledge of the soil is a key to this storehouse.

"We can roughly divide the soil into three classes and call these sand, clay, and humus. The ideal soil has all three of these elements in it. Sandy soil is made up, as the name itself really tells, of broken up rock masses. One can tell this sort of soil by its lightness and the ease with which a mass of it drops apart. By the word lightness one does not mean colour or weight, but looseness. A clay soil may be told by its stickiness; its power to form lumps or masses; its tendency to crack and bake under the hot sun. Such a soil is called heavy. Humus soil is made up largely of decayed animal and vegetable matter. Its presence is told by a dark, rich colour.

"In trying to improve the soil we are dealing with, we have first to think of its physical, and second, its chemical condition.

"The great needs of the soil are air and water. Just think of all soils as made up of many particles; let us say like a lot of marbles, one placed upon another. Each given mass of particles has a given air space between every particle. Again, if a marble is dipped in water a film of water remains on it a short time. Let us think of the particles as always having a film of water on them. Then, as roots and root-hairs of plants strike down among these they find the two necessities, air and water.

"Now sand is very loose and so lets the water drain down through it too rapidly. How shall we improve a sandy soil? Just add something to bind the loose sand particles together. Humus is good for this binding purpose.

"Clay absorbs much water. Then its particles squeeze tightly together and so air is shut out. Add sand to clay soils, to lighten them.

"Humus soil is very rich in nitrogen. This brings us to the chemical side of soils. There are many chemicals in soils which act as foods to plants, but only three are the essentials. If these cannot be unlocked from the soil, or are lacking, they must be supplied. These plant foods are nitrogen, potash, and phosphorus.

"The chief source of nitrogen is manure; of potash, nitrate or sulphate of potash, and wood ashes; of phosphorus, bone ash or phosphates. How can you tell when one of these is lacking? Well, first it is well to know what each one does for a plant. Nitrogen makes fine, green, sturdy growth of leaf and stalk; phosphorus helps blossoming plants; while potash makes plump fruit. If foliage looks sickly then nitrogen is needed. If one wishes a good growth of leaves, as in lettuce, nitrogen is needed. If the fruit is small and poor, supply potash; while if the flower and stalk need better growth, add phosphorus.

"Be careful in adding nitrogen. Nitrogen is the plant food which is most easily lost out of the soil. Study the soil you are dealing with, supply if possible what it lacks, and try to unlock to your seedlings the goodness already in the garden soil."

The interesting talk ended.

"Couldn't we meet oftener than just Saturdays?" questioned Jack.

"We'll see; it all depends upon how much work there is. Possibly we may have to meet Fridays, too, later on, for you have no lessons that night. Anything more, boys, before the popcorn?"

"I'd like to know," asked Peter, "if my cousin Philip, who comes from the city to grandfather's to spend almost every Saturday and Sunday, may join us too. He wants to fix up his city backyard and doesn't know how to begin."

"Bring him along next Saturday. We'll be glad to have him, shan't we, boys?"

"Don't know," blurted out Albert, "it's our club."

"Keep quiet, Albert. Let him in as long as he behaves and works. Isn't that right?" asked Jay.

"Yes," answered George and Jack.

"Then, boys, we'll have Jack's report next week, as his problem is not so difficult. If Jay and Albert drop in some day from school they shall have a book which will help them, and George needs one, too."

At this point Albert dropped off his seat in mock alarm murmuring as he fell, "Worse, much worse than school!" George dropped a heavy book on top of him to add to his comfort.

The Chief went on as if nothing had happened. "Jack and Peter, shell and pop the corn, George and Jay, crack the nuts. And you, Albert, run to the cellar for the apples. Get good ones, young man."

"Why," questioned Albert, as he picked himself up, "why must poor Albert always do the hard work, while the other fellows stay by the warm fire?" No one answered him and he slowly marched off.

Soon the corn was popped, the nuts cracked and the big red apples on deck. And then it was a quiet room save for the snapping of a shell from a half-cracked nut, and the munching of the firm apples as the boys ate. The firelight played softly over the old room bringing out strongly the big oak table, the group of boys, the silent man, throwing far back into the shadows the old rush-bottomed chairs, the short-legged rockers and the pieces of furniture at all distant from the fire.

The clock struck nine. The boys reluctantly got up from the floor and struggled into their coats. Jay unbarred the door. The man held the light high above his head sending a stream of light after them, George astride his old farm horse ready for his three-mile ride, Jay and Albert trudging after him, and Jack and Peter hand in hand on a run toward the village.

"Good-night!" they shouted back at the man, "We'll be on time next Saturday night, seven sharp. Good-night!"

* * *

"It's fine to see you back, Myron," began The Chief, looking at a big, good looking fellow, who had dropped quietly into his place by George. "Are you here for all the time, now?"

"Yes," replied Myron, "I got tired of the town and am glad enough to be back again."

"We are just as glad as you are. Is Philip here for Sunday?"

Philip wriggled happily beside Peter and said nothing. For Peter had impressed Philip with the fact that he must keep quiet for it wasn't very much his club anyway.

"There is business up for discussion, and two applications," began The Chief.

"Applications!" broke in Albert. "May we have those first?"

"If you can't keep still," retorted Jay, "you'll get applications all right, but of quite another sort."

The Chief passed two letters to George. George stood up, swallowed hard, for he was a bashful lad, and began. "'Will the Junior Garden Club give suggestions and practical help for the improvement of the Oldfield Centre School Grounds?' Signed 'The Teacher.'"

"Crickey!" said Albert. "That's white in her! Expert advice! I guess we will!"

"What shall we do about this?" asked The Chief.

"We just ought to do it, I think," began Jack. "There surely is no other public-spirited club in this place."

"Just so," murmured Peter.

"We ought now to have a secretary for the club, and a chairman, too. I believe to-night is the time to vote for these officers," suggested The Chief. "Suppose Jack and Philip tear up slips of paper and pass them. Then Myron and George collect, and count the ballots. We should vote for chairman first."

"What does the chairman have to do?" asked Myron.

"A chairman always calls a meeting to order and presides," answered the man.

For a few minutes they were all very busy with paper and pencil. The results were given by Myron.

"Jay has all the votes for chairman. Albert has four for secretary, and so I suppose we'll have to have him."

Albert, nothing daunted, said, "I guess you will, but I write like a hen."

"That's right, you do," chimed in Jack to Albert's apparent annoyance.

"Now, Jack, call your meeting to order and let's have these matters voted on."

"Come to order all of you. What shall we do about this school-ground business?"

"I vote," began Myron.

"Stand on your feet," advised Jay.

"I vote-"

"No, Myron," corrected The Chief, "move-not vote."

"I move, then, that we fix up those grounds."

"Who seconds this?" and Jay looked hard at George.

"I will," he responded.

"I'm not sure, now," appealed Jay to The Chief, "I'm not sure just how to go on."

"It's this way-it has been moved and seconded that this request be granted. All in favour say 'aye'; all contrary minded 'no'. It is a vote." Jay repeated this and the boys voted, Albert, as usual, voting "no," just for fun.

"Now, if George will read the second letter---"

"I should think," Jack half questioned, "that the secretary should read things, now we have a secretary."

"So he should, hand those papers over, George."

George, delighted, gave place to Albert, who stumblingly read. "We girls wish to garden, too. We'd like to join your club. We can do just as good work as boys. Will you take us in?"

"Not much!" went on Alfred just as if he were still reading, "Girls in our club, no siree, girls never!"

"Girls might do something," began Myron.

"But," Jack broke in, "they'd after all spoil a boys' club. Why, it wouldn't be a boys' club then."

"They might have one of their own," suggested Peter.

"And do different things," continued Philip.

"I really don't see," Jay went on, "quite how we could have them. But, I suppose, they might meet with The Chief and we could help them sometimes."

"No," said Albert, "we don't wish to get mixed up with that sort of thing. They'd run the whole club in the end."

"That's right," agreed George.

This was put to vote properly and the girls were barred out.

"You must write them a letter, Albert," concluded Jay.

"Write a letter! A letter to those girls! Never!"

"Yes you will; you are the secretary and you have to, understand," said Jay. Poor Albert, not long before so proud of his office, looked as if he'd rather be whipped than be the secretary.

"The real business to-night is to hear reports so we can do a little experimenting and testing next week," suggested the man.

"All right, we'll have George's first."

"I shall, of course," began George, "plant my corn, Country Gentleman, in with father's. We have plenty of seed corn, so I shall not have to buy any. As far as my old slope goes I have to pick all the stone off. Then I am not sure just how to drain it, for the rains from another slope above wash it all the spring and summer. I shall then put some barnyard manure on and plant it all to corn. Of course, I must plough and harrow it, too."

"Now," said The Chief, "I guess we'd better stop right here and have a little talk, for George has brought up some problems for discussion. In the first place-let us consider the draining. All George has to consider is that he has to conduct or lead the water off his land."

"But," said George, "that is what seems to me difficult."

"Have you noticed how water takes definite courses down hills? That ought to give you some help."

"I see," cried Jack, "George could make gutters for the rain to travel along and so lead the water off his garden."

"Exactly, Jack has the idea. It is really a bit of engineering. Suppose George finds the highest point, the greatest slope, of his land. From this point a gutter or furrow should be dug so that the water is made to flow off and away from his land."

"How deep shall I dig the gutter?"

"Dig it about three feet deep and fill stones right into this gutter. Two feet of stone in the gutter is about right. Water falling on a stone mass drains off properly. It would sink into an earth mass. Bring a little sketch of this with you next week, George, showing where you are going to dig the drain. Now boys, how much fertilizer do you think ought to go on this poor land of George's?"

"I was going to put on two inches," said George.

"I should think he ought to put at least four inches on," half questioned Myron.

"I'll say eight," began Philip. The boys shouted at this.

"Philip," went on the man after the laughter ceased, "is very nearly right. If George wishes to get anything from this old land at once, he must fertilize it heavily. If your father can spare a foot of fertilizer put it on." The boys all whistled.

"Now about the corn! Did you know, George, that corn is a most exhaustive crop?"

"I don't even know what you mean."

"I do," said Jack, "he means corn tires the soil."

"Just so," continued The Chief, "the soil supplies food to the plant. Some crops use up more of the soil's goodness than others. Corn is one of these. Now, George, what do you think about planting a crop that works the soil very hard, especially when the soil you are dealing with is rather poor?"

"It wouldn't be the best thing, I should say. Will you suggest good things to plant?"

"Well, potatoes, tomatoes and cabbage demand less from the soil."

"Then I choose cabbage, I'll plant that entire old slope to cabbage."

"Now, Jack, suppose you talk."

"I have decided to build a coldframe, so I can get a little earlier start with my plants; I suppose I should have begun this frame last fall. I know this-that I have to dig out my whole garden spot and fill it in. So I thought I could get a start with the coldframe while I was working at filling in. I have decided to plant lettuce, radish, beets, tomatoes, peppers and some flowers. I think I shall plant asters, stock and sunflowers."

"Why sunflowers?" asked Philip.

"I want the seed for my squirrel's feed next winter. Then, too, I think sunflowers make a pretty nice background for a garden."

"If you wish to drop in to see me before the next week's meeting we'll have plans for the coldframe worked out to explain to the boys then. You measure the space where you are going to put the frame and ask your father about the lumber. As lumber is your father's business, I should almost think you could get us some soft wood, say white-wood, for our stakes and markers," suggested The Chief.

"Of course, I can," promised Jack.

"Now Peter," said Jay.

"My garden is to be just potatoes."

"Peter and potatoes!" jeered Albert. "Oh, Peter!"

"I don't care, I'm for potatoes and profit."

"Peter always does make money. So I suppose his potatoes will turn into money, too," volunteered Philip.

"My stunt," said Myron next, "is to be strawberries. I want to raise strawberries. Mr. Marsh, on the Longmeadow Farm, has offered to give me some plants. I'll do the corn stunt; aren't you going to, Pete?"

"Of course, that was understood, and Philip will have his corn at grandfather's too, for a city backyard is no place for corn."

"Now, Albert, you may talk for both of us," said Jay.

"Our land has to be drained, but it is not exactly the same proposition that George has. Water stands on our land. We had thought of putting a drain pipe in. It seems as if there should be an easier way, but we don't know one," Albert stopped and looked at The Chief, who leaned back in his chair and thought a minute.

"I guess, boys, we had better stop and talk over the matter of drainage. There are three kinds of drains, namely: the open drain, the blind drain, and the tile drain. Each one has worked out of the other. The simplest sort and the one man first used is the open ditch. A piece of land was covered with water. A ditch was dug through the land at the place or places where water was standing. Usually a little stone is thrown into the bottom to help drain the water off.

"Such a drain put out of use quite a bit of land. So partly because of this a second sort of drain was worked out. A good body of stone was put into the drain, then earth filled in over this. Water percolating down through the soil followed along these drainage courses. Formerly it settled in spots and made boggy land. Finally a more systematic sort of drain developed from this last one. Instead of a body of stone, a drain tile was placed on the bottom of the trench.

"Straight off you boys can see which one of these three represents the best all around drain. Out in the country or where there is no need to think of utilizing every bit of land, the open drain is often seen. But where every bit of land must be used, the open drain is out of the question.

"All drains come under the head of one of these three types. After all, boys, since you can put in the tile drain would it not be wiser to do so?"

"Surely," answered Albert. "But I should think soil which has been under water for some time, as this has, would be a bit poor."

"In case you find the soil is sour, as it may be, you can sweeten it up. There is a certain farm sweetener in lime," added The Chief.

"We shall plant on our land onions, peas, and tomatoes." continued Albert. "We believe that the soil is going to be especially good for onions."

"I guess I shall have to break in again right here. Onions need a fine, rich, deep soil. To be sure moist soil is good for certain varieties of onions. That is why, I imagine, you thought your soil good. You must get this soil into better garden condition before you devote it to a crop like onions. Try a general vegetable garden this season. Work out the crop value of the soil.

"Philip, do you know what you are going to do?"

"I know that I have everything to do. I thought perhaps I should do something like this. We want that old backyard to be really pretty. The yard is a long narrow strip of land just like most city backyards. I thought I'd make a walk straight through it. I want a little fish pond at the end. I thought I'd lay out a few flower beds with paths in between them. Mother says she will buy me a few shrubs."

"I say, Chief, don't you think some of us might go up to the city and help Philip make the cement pond?" asked Albert eagerly.

"We might," murmured Jay, "if we get invited."

"Boys, it's late. We know a little of what our stunts are to be. Next week each of you bring about fifty seeds of each kind you intend to plant. Be able to tell just how these seeds should be planted. Also have the dimensions of your plots. Jack will bring some soft wood along, too. And Philip, find out, if possible just how much money you can have for shrubs. Now on with your coats! Out of my house in two seconds!"

"No food to-night is a sad blow, Chief," said Albert pretending to weep as he opened the outside door.

"This blow is sadder," replied Jack, playfully shoving Albert clean out of the door.

* * *

A very timid little knock roused The Chief from his study of Jack's coldframe plans. The outer door gently opened and three little girls entered and advanced to where the man sat. One, the smallest of the three, was thrust forward as spokesman. Gathering herself together she began with a rush. She thrust a letter into The Chief's hands.

"This is the boys' horrid letter. We don't care particularly about belonging to a boys' club. We wouldn't now, any way. But we'd like to show those boys a thing or two and we thought perhaps you would help us. Will you?"

"Sit down, and we will work out a little plot together. But first tell me your names. I like to know the names of people with whom I plot."

The girls came close to the man. The spokesman did the introducing. "I am Delia, Peter's sister, and just as smart as he is. This," pointing to a quiet, pleasant-faced girl, "is Ethel. And the other is Jack's sister, Elizabeth."

"How many more girls belong to this company?"

"They are all outside waiting, I'll call them in if you say so. They are behind the lilac bushes. You see we were afraid some of the boys might come to see you, so we hid. For we don't wish them to know about this at all. I'll call the girls in now." So Delia ran to the door, held it wide open, and called "Come girls, he wants to meet you!"

"Come right in, girls. This one," pointing to a girl with light hair and bright eyes, "is Eloise. Her father keeps the Inn. And this is Josephine, who has no yard at all; and Helena who has plenty of ground; and this," with a grand flourish, "this is the judge's daughter, Katharine."

"I hate," said Katharine, "always being labelled; I think it's pretty hard on a girl to be tagged this way."

"If you'll sit down," began The Chief-"although there are not chairs enough-we'll get right down to business."

And then how they talked! Closer and closer they drew up to The Chief until the eight heads were so close together they seemed almost one huge head. Finally they all shouted with laughter.

"Not a word outside, mind you, not one word. Prove that girls can keep a secret."

"We solemnly promise," said Katharine for the others.

"Look," cried Elizabeth, "there comes Jack; what shall we do?"

"Out this way," quietly replied the man, almost sweeping seven happy little girls out of the door. "Now, cut and run." And off they scampered over the fields.

* * *