hen the
clods which were full of grass-roots had to be taken on a fork and
shaken, till the earth fell out; when the grass was thrown to one side.
That would not have had to be done if the land had been ploughed in the
autumn; the grass would have rotted in the ground, and would have made
food for the plants. Now, Margery's father put the fertiliser on the
top, and then raked it into the earth.
At last, it was time to make the place for the seeds. Margery and her
mother helped. Father tied one end of a cord to a little stake, and
drove the stake in the ground at one end of the garden. Then he took the
cord to the other end of the garden and pulled it tight, tied it to
another stake, and drove that down. That made a straight line. Then he
hoed a trench, a few inches deep, the whole length of the cord, and
scattered fertiliser in it. Pretty soon the whole garden was lined with
little trenches.
"Now for the seed," said father.
Margery ran and brought the seed box. "May I help?" she asked.
"If you watch me sow one row, I think you can do the next," said her
father.
So Margery watched. Her father took a handful of peas, and, stooping,
walked slowly along the line, letting the seed trickle through his
fingers. It was pretty to watch; it made Margery think of a photograph
her teacher had, a photograph of a famous picture called "The Sower."
Perhaps you have seen it.
Putting in the seed was not so easy to do as to watch; sometimes Margery
dropped in too much, and sometimes not enough; but her father was
patient with her, and soon she did better.
They planted peas, beans, spinach, carrots, and parsnips. And Margery's
father made a row of holes, after that, for the tomato plants. He said
those had to be transplanted; they could not be sown from seed.
When the seeds were in the trenches they had to be covered up, and
Margery really helped at that. It is fun to do it. You stand beside the
little trench and walk backward, and as you walk you hoe the loose earth
back over the seeds; the same earth that was hoed up you pull back
again. Then you rake very gently over the surface, with the back of a
rake, to even it all off. Margery liked it, because now the garden began
to look _like_ a garden.
But best of all was the work next day, when her own little particular
garden was begun. Father Brown loved Margery and Margery's mother so
much that he wanted their garden to be perfect, and that meant a great
deal more work
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