to be hot chocolate for us down stairs at half past four," said
Dorothy, jumping up and looking at a clock that was ticking
industriously on a shelf. "Let's go down and get it, and we'll ask
Mother to sing the funny old song of 'The Four Seasons' for us."

"Why is it funny?" asked Ethel Blue.

"It's a very old English song with queer spelling."

"Something like mine?" demanded Della.

Ethel Blue kissed her.

"Never mind; Shakspere spelled his name in several different ways," she
said encouragingly, "Anyway, we can't tell how this is spelled when Aunt
Louise sings it."

As they sat about the fire in the twilight drinking their chocolate and
eating sandwiches made of nuts ground fine, mixed with mayonnaise and
put on a crisp lettuce leaf between slices of whole wheat bread, Mrs.
Smith sang the old English song to them.

"Springe is ycomen in,
Dappled lark singe;
Snow melteth,
Runnell pelteth,
Smelleth winde of newe buddinge.

"Summer is ycomen in,
Loude singe cucku;
Groweth seede,
Bloweth meade,
And springeth the weede newe.

"Autumne is ycomen in,
Ceres filleth horne;
Reaper swinketh,
Farmer drinketh,
Creaketh waine with newe corn.

"Winter is ycomen in,
With stormy sadde cheere;
In the paddocke,
Whistle ruddock,
Brighte sparke in the dead yeare."

"That's a good stanza to end with," said Ethel Blue, as she bade her
aunt "Good-bye." "We've been talking about gardens and plants and
flowers all the afternoon, and it would have seemed queer to put on a
heavy coat to go home in if you hadn't said 'Winter is ycomen in.'"

CHAPTER V

A DEFECT IN THE TITLE

In spite of their having made such an early start in talking about
gardens the members of the United Service Club did not weary of the idea
or cease to plan for what they were going to do. The only drawback that
they found in gardening as a Club activity was that the gardens were for
themselves and their families and they did not see exactly how there was
any "service" in them.

"I'll trust you youngsters to do some good work for somebody in
connection with them," asserted Grandfather Emerson one day when Roger
had been talking over with him his pet plan for remodelling the old
Emerson farmhouse into a place suitable for the summer shelter of poor
women and children from the city who needed country air and relief from
hunger and anxiety.

"W