Part 13 (1/2)

”If it rains again that will be a river,” said Freddie, for he had often played river at home after a rain.

”Now, you see this seed is very fine,” continued John. ”But I am going to let you plant it if you're careful.”

”That ain't redishes!” exclaimed Freddie ”I want to plant redishes.”

”But this is the seed, and that's what makes the radishes,” John explained.

”Nope, that's black and it can't make it red?” argued Freddie.

”Wait and see,” the gardener told him. ”You just take this little paper of seeds and scatter them in the drill. See, I have mixed them with sand so they will not grow too thick.”

Freddie took the small package, and kneeling down on the board that John used, he dropped the little shower of seeds in the line.

”They're all gone!” he told John presently; ”get some more.”

”No, that's enough. Now we will see how your crop grows. See, I just cover the seed very lightly like mamma covers Freddie when he sleeps in the summer time.”

”Do you cover them more in the winter time too, like mamma does?”

Freddie asked.

”Yes, indeed I do,” said the gardener, ”for seeds are just like babies, they must be kept warm to grow.”

Freddie stood watching the line he had planted the seed in.

”They ain't growing yet,” he said at last. ”Why don't they come up, John?”

”Oh!” laughed the gardener, ”they won't come up right away. They have to wake up first. You will see them above the ground in about a week, I guess.”

This was rather a disappointment to the little fellow, who never believed in waiting for anything, but he finally consented to let the seeds grow and come back again later to pick the radishes.

”Look at our garden!” called Nan proudly, from across the path.

”Doesn't it look straight and pretty?”

”You did very well indeed,” said John, inspecting the new lettuce patch. ”Now, you'll have to keep it clear of weeds, and if a dry spell should come you must use the watering can.”

”I'll come up and tend to it every morning,” Nan declared. ”I am going to see what kind of lettuce I can raise.”

Nan had brought with her a beautiful string of pearl beads set in gold, the gift of one of her aunts. She was very proud of the pearls and loved to wear them whenever her mother would let her.

One afternoon she came to her mother in bitter tears.

”Oh, mamma!” she sobbed. ”The the pearls are gone,”

”Gone! Did you lose them?” questioned Mrs. Bobbsey quickly.

”Yes.”

”Where?”