y from them, hoe them, water them, and keep
the bugs and worms away. Is there anything else that can happen to things
in a garden, Daddy?"

"Yes, sometimes heavy hail storms come and beat down the plants, or tear
the leaves to ribbons so the plants die, and bear nothing. This often
happens to corn, which has broad leaves easily torn by hail."

"What is hail?" asked Hal.

"Well, it's a sort of frozen rain," said Daddy Blake. "Often in a thunder
shower the wind plays strange tricks. It whirls the rain drops about,
first in some cool air, far above the earth and then whips them into some
warm air. The cool air freezes the rain, and when it falls it is not in
the shape of beautiful crystals, as is the snow, but is in hard, round
balls, sometimes as large as marbles. Often the hail will break windows."

"I hope it doesn't hail in our nice garden," said Hal.

"It will hurt your corn worse than it would my beans," said Mab. "I hope
it doesn't hail, too, Hal."

But two or three days after that, one evening when the Blakes were sitting
on the steps after having worked in the garden, there came from the West
low mutterings of thunder. Then the lightning began to flash and Daddy
Blake said:

"We are going to have a shower, I think. Well, it will be good for the
garden."

And soon the big drops began splashing down, followed by another sound.

"Oh, it's hailing!" cried Aunt Lolly. "Hear the hail stones!"

"I love to see it!" exclaimed Mab. "But I hope it doesn't hail very big
stones."

However the stones from the sky--stones of ice that did not melt for some
time after they rattled down--were rather large. They bounced up from the
sidewalk and on the path around the Blake house.

"Where's Hal?" suddenly asked his father. "I want to show him and Mab how
the inside of hail stones look. I'll run out and get some as soon as the
shower slackens a little."

It was raining and hailing hard now, and the lightning was flashing
brightly, while the thunder was rumbling like big cannon.

"Hal was here a minute ago," said his mother. "I wonder if he could have
run out in the storm?"

Just then, from his porch, Mr. Porter called something to Daddy Blake. All
Mab and her mother could hear was:

"Hal--hail--umbrella!"

"Oh, I hope nothing has happened to him!" said Mrs. Blake. "You had better
go look for him, Daddy!"

CHAPTER VIII

THE CHILDREN'S MARKET

Daddy Blake caught up an umbrella from the hallway and ran o