ke up his mind what
to do. Or, rather, he makes up his mind both ways at once. Because some
people make a good thing out of raising flowers he thinks he'll do that.
And because others do a big business in garden-stuff, he thinks he'll do
that."

"And so he falls between two stools. I see."

"It's no use being a market-gardener," she went on, disdainfully tossing
the earth into another pot, "unless you're a big market-gardener, and
it's no use being a florist unless you're a big florist. Everything has
to be big nowadays to make it pay. And the trouble with father is that
he does so many things small. He sees big," she analyzed, continuing her
work--"so big that he goes all to pieces when he tries to carry his
ideas out."

"And you think that if he concentrated his forces on raising
garden-stuff--"

She explained further: People had to have lettuce and radishes and
carrots and cucumbers whatever happened, whereas flowers were a luxury.
Whenever money was scarce they didn't buy them. If it were not for
weddings and funerals and Christmas and Easter they wouldn't buy them at
all. Then, too, they were expensive to raise, and difficult. You
couldn't do it by casting a little seed into the ground. Every azalea
was imported from Belgium; every lily-bulb from Japan. True, the
carnations were grown from slips, but if he only knew the trouble they
gave! Those at which he was looking, and which had the innocent air of
springing and blooming of their own accord, had been through no less
than four tedious processes since the slips were taken in the preceding
February. First they had been planted in sand for the root to strike;
then transferred to flats, or shallow wooden boxes; then bedded out in
the garden; and lastly brought into the house. If he would only consider
the labor involved in all that, to say nothing of the incessant watching
and watering, and keeping the house at the proper temperature by night
and by day--well, he could see for himself.

He did see for himself. He said so absently, because he was noting the
fact that her serious, earnest eyes were of the peculiar shade which,
when seen in eyes, is called green. It was still absently that he added,
"And you have to work pretty hard."

She shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, I don't mind that. Anything to live."

"What are you doing there?"

There was an exasperated note in her voice as she replied: "Oh, these
are the Easter lilies. We have to begin on them now."