Part 32 (1/2)

”Ah! nerve, eh!” said Cameron. ”Well, I have done some Rugby in my day--I know something of that. What else? This sounds good.”

”Then you've got to leave only one turnip in one place and not a weed; and you mustn't leave any blanks. Dad gets hot over that.”

”Indeed, one turnip in each place and not a weed,” echoed Cameron. ”Say!

this business grows interesting. No blanks! Anything else?” he demanded.

”No, I guess not, only if yeh ever git into a race ye've got to keep goin' after you're clear tuckered out and never let on. You see the other chap may be feelin' worse than you.”

”By Jove, Tim! you're a born general!” exclaimed Cameron. ”You will go some distance if you keep on in that line. Now as to racing let me venture a word, for I have done a little in my time. Don't spurt too soon.”

”Eh!” said Tim, all eagerness.

”Don't get into your racing stride too early in the day, especially if you are up against a stronger man. Wait till you know you can stay till the end and then put your best licks in at the finish.”

Tim pondered.

”By Jimminy! you're right,” he cried, a glad light in his eye, and a touch of colour in his pale cheek, and Cameron knew he was studying war.

The turnip field, let it be said for the enlightening of the benighted and unfortunate city-bred folk, is laid out in a series of drills, a drill being a long ridge of earth some six inches in height, some eight inches broad on the top and twelve at the base. Upon each drill the seed has been sown in one continuous line from end to end of the field. When this seed has grown each drill will discover a line of delicate green, this line being nothing less than a compact growth of young turnip plants with weeds more or less thickly interspersed. The operation of hoeing consists in the eliminating of the weeds and the superfluous turnip plants in order that single plants, free from weeds, may be left some eight inches apart in unbroken line, extending the whole length of the drill. The artistic h.o.e.r, however, is not content with this.

His artistic soul demands not only that single plants should stand in unbroken row from end to end along the drill top, but that the drill itself should be pared down on each side to the likeness of a house roof with a perfectly even ridge.

”Ever hoe turnips?” enquired Perkins.

”Never,” said Cameron, ”and I am afraid I won't make much of a fist at it.”

”Well, you've come to a good place to learn, eh, Tim! We'll show him, won't we?”

Tim made no reply, but simply handed Cameron a hoe and picked up his own.

”Now, show me, Tim,” said Cameron in a low voice, as Perkins and Webster set off on their drills.

”This is how you do it,” replied Tim. ”Click-click,” forward and back went Tim's sharp s.h.i.+ning instrument, leaving a single plant standing shyly alone where had boldly bunched a score or more a moment before.

”Click-click-click,” and the flat-topped drill stood free of weeds and superfluous turnip plants and trimmed to its proper roof-like appearance.

”I say!” exclaimed Cameron, ”this is high art. I shall never reach your cla.s.s, though, Tim.”

”Oh, shucks!” said Tim, ”slash in, don't be afraid.” Cameron slashed in.

”Click-click,” ”Click-click-click,” when lo! a long blank s.p.a.ce of drill looked up reproachfully at him.

”Oh, Tim! look at this mess,” he said in disgust.

”Never mind!” said Tim, ”let her rip. Better stick one in though.

Blanks look bad at the END of the drill.” So saying, he made a hole in Cameron's drill and with his hoe dug up a bunch of plants from another drill and patted them firmly into place, and, weeding out the unnecessary plants, left a single turnip in its proper place.

”Oh, come, that isn't so bad,” said Cameron. ”We can always fill up the blanks.”

”Yes, but it takes time,” replied Tim, evidently with the racing fever in his blood. Patiently Tim schooled his pupil throughout the forenoon, and before the dinner hour had come Cameron was making what to Tim appeared satisfactory progress. It was greatly in Cameron's favor that he possessed a trained and true eye and a steady hand and that he was quick in all his movements.

”You're doin' splendid,” cried Tim, full of admiration.