"If I were you, dear, I'd stick to the vegetables in the large garden, and plant flowers in the roundel and small beds about the house, where the color and perfume will reach us as we sit indoors or on the piazzas," suggested Mrs. James.

"But the vegetable garden will look so plain and ugly with nothing but bean poles and brush for peas," complained Natalie.

"Not so, Natalie. When the blossoms on the bean-vines wave in the breeze, and the gorgeous orange flowers bloom on the pumpkin and melon vines, or the peas send you their sweet scent, you will be glad you did as I suggest. Besides, we will need so many flowers about the house that it will take all the time and money we have to spare to take care of those beds."

So Natalie was persuaded to try out Mrs. James' ideas.

"How long will it take us to get the seeds to plant in our vegetable garden, Jimmy?" asked she later.

"I can telephone my order in to the seed store in the morning, and they can mail the package at once. We ought to have it in two days, at least," answered Mrs. James.

"That will be time enough, won't it? Because we have to plough and rake the beds first. Oh, I do hope that farmer won't forget to come in the morning," sighed Natalie, running to the door to look out at the night sky and see if there was any indication of rain for the morrow.

"The sky is clear and the stars are shining like beacons," exclaimed she, turning to Mrs. James.

That lady smiled for she understood why Natalie had gone to investigate the weather signals.

"Perhaps we ought to go to bed early, Natalie, so we can be up when Farmer Ames arrives," hinted she.

"Why, what time do you think he will be here?"

"Farmers generally begin work at five, but he may not arrive until after his ch.o.r.es are attended to. I suppose we may look for him about seven o'clock."

"Seven o'clock! Mercy, Jimmy, we won't be awake then," cried Natalie, surprised at such hours.

"Oh yes, we will, because everyone in the country goes to bed at nine and rises at five. We must begin the same habit."

"Oh, oh! How outlandish! Why, we never _think_ of bed in the city until eleven,-and later if we go to the theatre, you know."

"That's why everyone has pasty complexions and has to resort to rouge.

If folks would keep decent hours they'd be healthier and deprive the doctors and druggists of an income. We will begin to live in the country as country people do, and then we will show city folks what we gain by such living," replied Mrs. James, mildly but firmly.

So they prepared to retire that first night on Green Hill Farm, when the hands on the old grandfather's clock pointed to eight-forty-five. Even Rachel laughed as she started up-stairs back of her young mistress, and after saying good-night, added: "Ef I onny could grow roses in m' cheeks like-as-how you-all kin! But dey woulden show, nohow, on my black face!"

She laughed heartily at her joke and went to the small room over the kitchen, still shaking with laughter.

CHAPTER VI-NATALIE BEGINS HER PLANTING

The singing of the birds, nested in the old red maple tree that overshadowed the house on the side where Natalie's room was, roused her from the most restful sleep she had had in months. No vibration of electricity such as one constantly hears and feels in the city, no shouting of folks in the streets, no milkman with his reckless banging of cans, no steamboat's shrieks and wails such as one hears when living on the Drive, disturbed the peace and quietude of the night in the country.

"Oh my! I hope I haven't overslept," thought Natalie, as she sat up, wide awake. She looked at the clock on the table and could scarcely believe it was but five minutes of five.

"Why, it feels like eight to me!" she said to herself, as she sprang from bed and ran to sniff the delightful fresh air that gently waved the curtains in and out of the opened windows.

"I'm going to surprise Jimmy! I'll be dressed and out in the garden before she wakes up," giggled the girl, hastily catching up her bath-towel and soap, and running stealthily along the hall to the bathroom.

But her plans were not realized, because Mrs. James was up and down-stairs before Natalie ever heard the birds sing. She sat on the piazza sorting some bulbs and roots she had brought from the city in her trunk.

After Natalie was dressed, she tiptoed to Mrs. James' door and turned the k.n.o.b very quietly so the sleeper should not awake. But she found the bed empty and the room vacated.

Down-stairs she flew, and saw the side door open. She also got a whiff of m.u.f.fins, and knew Rachel was up and preparing an early breakfast. Out of the door she went, and stood still when she found Mrs. James working on queer-looking roots.

"When did you get up?" asked she, taken aback.

"Oh, about quarter to five. When did you?" laughed Mrs. James.

"I woke ten minutes later, but I wanted to s'prise you in bed. I went in and found the room empty," explained Natalie. "What sort of vegetables are those roots?"

"These are dahlia roots, and they will look fine at the fence-line, over there, that divides the field from our driveway. Do you see these dried sticks that come from each root? Those are last year's plant-stalks. We leave them on during the winter months, so the roots won't sprout until you plant them. Now I will cut them down quite close to the root before I put them in the ground."

As she spoke, Mrs. James trimmed down the old stalks to within an inch of the root, then gathered up her ap.r.o.nful of bulbs and roots and stood ready to go down the steps.

"Do you wish to help, Natty? You can bring the spade and digging fork that Rachel placed outside the cellar door for me."

Natalie ran for the tools and hurried after Mrs. James to the narrow flower bed that ran alongside the picket fence. A ten-inch gra.s.s-border separated this flower bed from the side door driveway, making the place for flowers quite secure from wheeltracks or unwary horses' hoofs.

The dahlia roots were planted so that the tip edge of the old stalks barely showed above the soil. Then the bulbs were planted: lily bulbs, Egyptian iris, Nile Gra.s.s, and other plants which will come up every year after once being planted.

"There now! That is done and they are on the road to beautifying our grounds," sighed Mrs. James, standing up and stretching her arm muscles.

"After all I've said, you were the first one to plant, anyway,"

complained Natalie.

"Not in the vegetable garden! And flowers are not much account when one has to eat and live," laughed Mrs. James.

A voice calling from the kitchen door, now diverted attention from the roots and bulbs. "I got dem m.u.f.fins on de table an' nice cereal ready to dish up," announced Rachel.

"And we're ready for it, too!" declared Natalie.

During the morning meal, Mrs. James and her protegee talked of nothing but gardening, and the prospects of an early crop. To anyone experienced in farming, their confidence in harvesting vegetables within a fortnight would have been highly amusing. But no one was present to reflect as much as a smile on their ardor, so the planning went on.

It was not quite seven when Farmer Ames drove in at the side gate and pa.s.sed the house. Natalie ran out to greet him and to make sure he had brought the plough in the farm wagon.

"Good-morning, Mr. Ames. How long will it be before you start the ploughing?" called Natalie, as the horse was stopped opposite the side door.

"Good-mornin', miss. Is Mis' James to home this mornin'?" asked the be-whiskered farmer, nodding an acknowledgment of Natalie's greeting.

"Here I am, Mr. Ames. Both of us are ready to help in the gardening in whatever way you suggest," said Mrs. James, appearing on the porch.

"Thar ain't much to be helped, yit, but soon's I git Bob ploughin', you'se kin go over the sile and pick out any big stones that might turn up. Ef they ain't taken out they will spile the growin' of the plants by keepin' out light and heat."

Natalie exchanged looks with her companion. Neither one had ever thought of such a possibility.

"What shall I use for them-a rake?" asked Natalie.