The Library of Work and Play: Gardening and Farming Part 1

The Library of Work and Play: Gardening and Farming.

by Ellen Eddy Shaw.

PART I--THE GARDEN CLUB

I

THE GARDEN CLUB

The door opened. A gust of wind and rain literally swept five boys, wet and breathless, into the room. The man at the big oak table in front of a huge open fire looked up, smiled, and said, "Off with your duds, boys!

Bar the door securely, Jay, for it's a wild night. Throw a fresh log on the fire, Albert. And all line up."

For a few moments the big cheerful room seemed full of wriggling, twisting boys as great coats were pulled off and hung up carefully on pegs at the far end of the room. It was a rule here at The Chief's home that things should always be s.h.i.+pshape. Then the "line up" came. This was a little ceremony the boys always went through, having dropped into it quite of their own accord. They formed a line in front of the open fire with backs to it and faces toward the man. Then they solemnly saluted in military style. At this The Chief arose, saluted, and by a wave of the hand a.s.signed each boy to his place at the table.

This little group of boys had formed itself naturally into a club. It met with The Chief every Sat.u.r.day night. He was really no chief, this big, boy-loving man who had come to spend a while in this little country village, to rest and to write. The boys had named him The Chief because, as Albert said, "He could lead any tribe and tame any savage." At this Albert always laughed for he himself had been called a savage so many times he almost believed he was one.

The boys dropped into their places. Jay, or the "Little Chief" as the boys called him, sat opposite the Big Chief at the end of the table and right in front of the fire. He was slim and tall and light of foot. He could run faster, throw farther, and play better than any other boy in the village. He always led, he never bullied, he played fair, so the other boys always followed.

Albert, Jay's brother, big and heavy and as full of mischief as he could hold, took his place at The Chief's right hand. Albert called this his place of honour although knowing full well that he was there so The Chief might have him within reach. Next to Albert came George, frank-faced and bashful, st.u.r.dy and loyal. Opposite him red-headed, stubby Peter sat always on the edge of his chair, always with a bit of a smile on his face, never talking much, always agreeing good-naturedly.

Beside Peter and at The Chief's left was Jack, who wriggled constantly like a young eel.

After the boys were seated and quiet, The Chief pushed back his work, a plan of his summer's garden, leaned back in his chair and said, "I think first we had better take up your reports." Then he pointed at Jay who began: "Well, when Albert and I asked father for a piece of the garden for our very own to work exactly as we pleased this summer, with no questions asked or answered, he laughed. He said that Albert wouldn't stick to it a day."

"I will, just the same," shouted out Albert quite red in the face.

"Just keep out of this, Savage, until I get through."

The man laid a restraining hand on Albert's arm and Jay continued: "But I begged father, and told him we'd always worked for him, and he might let us try for ourselves. Besides, I told him we'd not s.h.i.+rk his work.

So finally he said we each could have the ten hills in the corn patch for the experiment, just as you wished. And then--"

"And then," broke in Albert, unable longer to contain himself, "what do you think he gave us? It's just no use trying, for he gave us an old piece of land below the barn. It's a regular old swamp; why, water stands there the whole spring long, and it takes half the summer to dry it out. Then it gets hard as a brick. Now what is the use of trying on that?"

"We'll take it just the same, and so we told father," continued Jay. "We have just got to make that old land do something."

The Chief nodded and pointed to George for his report. "Same here,"

began George. "My father wouldn't listen at all at the first; then he said I might have the hills of corn. He threw in also an old side slope which he thinks is too poor for any use." George sank back in his chair in a quite dejected manner.

It was now Jack's turn. "You see," he began at his lightning rate, "we haven't much land anyway, seeing as we live in the village. I can have the backyard, such as it is, but that's precious little use. It's never been used for a garden, and it's full of rock. One of our neighbours says I may have a piece of her corn patch for my corn, if I'll take care of hers, too. Of course I took her offer. Just had to."

Peter took his turn last, as usual. "We have no place at our home; too much lawn, and mother will not have it cut up. Grandfather said I might have any place I wanted in his garden if I'd really care for it myself."

"My!" said Albert, "what a snap! Your grandfather has the best garden land around here. You'll win The Chief's five dollars for the best garden; you just can't help yourself. I'd like to punch you, Peter, for having such luck."

Peter smiled a little more broadly. "Fin sorry the garden's so good, but I can't help it."

"It's all right, Peter," began The Chief; "after all, boys, I believe we are not having such bad luck. Cheer up! We are going to surprise those fathers of yours, and have a good time out of it, too. Jay and Albert have a big problem of draining; George has simply got to put that sandy slope in shape; it looks as if Jack would have to fill in for his garden; and Peter--well, some of you may beat Peter yet."

At this last Peter smiled, Jack skilfully tumbled him off his chair and Albert gave a war whoop. The Chief called his meeting to order again.

"And now, boys, I shall see you each one separately about your garden problems. Remember, not a word at home, for we are going to surprise the people. And at our next regular meeting, and at all others this winter we shall have reports on the manner in which you are going to get at your work and the way in which you will beat conditions. In this way we can keep track of each other's work. We must make our plans, too, on paper, which will help out. We have catalogues to write for, garden stakes to make, and no end of things will come up. But first you boys ought to understand a bit more than you do about the soil. It is a storehouse of good things. Knowledge of the soil is a key to this storehouse.

"We can roughly divide the soil into three cla.s.ses and call these sand, clay, and humus. The ideal soil has all three of these elements in it.

Sandy soil is made up, as the name itself really tells, of broken up rock ma.s.ses. One can tell this sort of soil by its lightness and the ease with which a ma.s.s of it drops apart. By the word lightness one does not mean colour or weight, but looseness. A clay soil may be told by its stickiness; its power to form lumps or ma.s.ses; its tendency to crack and bake under the hot sun. Such a soil is called heavy. Humus soil is made up largely of decayed animal and vegetable matter. Its presence is told by a dark, rich colour.

"In trying to improve the soil we are dealing with, we have first to think of its physical, and second, its chemical condition.

"The great needs of the soil are air and water. Just think of all soils as made up of many particles; let us say like a lot of marbles, one placed upon another. Each given ma.s.s of particles has a given air s.p.a.ce between every particle. Again, if a marble is dipped in water a film of water remains on it a short time. Let us think of the particles as always having a film of water on them. Then, as roots and root-hairs of plants strike down among these they find the two necessities, air and water.

"Now sand is very loose and so lets the water drain down through it too rapidly. How shall we improve a sandy soil? Just add something to bind the loose sand particles together. Humus is good for this binding purpose.

"Clay absorbs much water. Then its particles squeeze tightly together and so air is shut out. Add sand to clay soils, to lighten them.

"Humus soil is very rich in nitrogen. This brings us to the chemical side of soils. There are many chemicals in soils which act as foods to plants, but only three are the essentials. If these cannot be unlocked from the soil, or are lacking, they must be supplied. These plant foods are nitrogen, potash, and phosphorus.

"The chief source of nitrogen is manure; of potash, nitrate or sulphate of potash, and wood ashes; of phosphorus, bone ash or phosphates. How can you tell when one of these is lacking? Well, first it is well to know what each one does for a plant. Nitrogen makes fine, green, st.u.r.dy growth of leaf and stalk; phosphorus helps blossoming plants; while potash makes plump fruit. If foliage looks sickly then nitrogen is needed. If one wishes a good growth of leaves, as in lettuce, nitrogen is needed. If the fruit is small and poor, supply potash; while if the flower and stalk need better growth, add phosphorus.

"Be careful in adding nitrogen. Nitrogen is the plant food which is most easily lost out of the soil. Study the soil you are dealing with, supply if possible what it lacks, and try to unlock to your seedlings the goodness already in the garden soil."

The interesting talk ended.

"Couldn't we meet oftener than just Sat.u.r.days?" questioned Jack.

"We'll see; it all depends upon how much work there is. Possibly we may have to meet Fridays, too, later on, for you have no lessons that night. Anything more, boys, before the popcorn?"

"I'd like to know," asked Peter, "if my cousin Philip, who comes from the city to grandfather's to spend almost every Sat.u.r.day and Sunday, may join us too. He wants to fix up his city backyard and doesn't know how to begin."

"Bring him along next Sat.u.r.day. We'll be glad to have him, shan't we, boys?"

"Don't know," blurted out Albert, "it's our club."

"Keep quiet, Albert. Let him in as long as he behaves and works. Isn't that right?" asked Jay.

"Yes," answered George and Jack.

"Then, boys, we'll have Jack's report next week, as his problem is not so difficult. If Jay and Albert drop in some day from school they shall have a book which will help them, and George needs one, too."

At this point Albert dropped off his seat in mock alarm murmuring as he fell, "Worse, much worse than school!" George dropped a heavy book on top of him to add to his comfort.

The Chief went on as if nothing had happened. "Jack and Peter, sh.e.l.l and pop the corn, George and Jay, crack the nuts. And you, Albert, run to the cellar for the apples. Get good ones, young man."

"Why," questioned Albert, as he picked himself up, "why must poor Albert always do the hard work, while the other fellows stay by the warm fire?" No one answered him and he slowly marched off.

Soon the corn was popped, the nuts cracked and the big red apples on deck. And then it was a quiet room save for the snapping of a sh.e.l.l from a half-cracked nut, and the munching of the firm apples as the boys ate.

The firelight played softly over the old room bringing out strongly the big oak table, the group of boys, the silent man, throwing far back into the shadows the old rush-bottomed chairs, the short-legged rockers and the pieces of furniture at all distant from the fire.

The clock struck nine. The boys reluctantly got up from the floor and struggled into their coats. Jay unbarred the door. The man held the light high above his head sending a stream of light after them, George astride his old farm horse ready for his three-mile ride, Jay and Albert trudging after him, and Jack and Peter hand in hand on a run toward the village.