Pouring out some lettuce seed in his hand, Jack began to sprinkle it rather unevenly in the first little drill.  Elizabeth, having returned, stood by watching and shaking her head.  “I didn’t know you were here.  You make me nervous,” began Jack.

“I feel more nervous than you possibly can, for you are wasting seed and sowing in a poor way.  See, here you have a little pile of seed, and there you have none,” and Elizabeth bent eagerly over the bed.

“Well, if you think you can do better, just try this next drill.”  Jack straightened up, and gave way to Elizabeth.

“Wait a minute,” and Elizabeth ran into the house.  Soon she came out with some small seed envelopes in her hand.  From the bag of lettuce seed—­for Jack had bought his seed by bulk—­Elizabeth poured some into a small envelope.  Then by shaking the envelope she carefully and sparingly sowed the lettuce in the drill.

“I say, that is good!” said Jack admiringly.  “Now I’ll do some myself.”

“I should think you would wish only one more row; then have a row, or perhaps two, to transplant in.  For I believe you’ll have to prick out the plants before the garden is ready.”

“You talk like the real thing, Elizabeth.  What do you mean by pricking out?”

“Why, pricking is just lifting out the seedlings with a pointed stick from one row to another, or from a box or hotbed into the outside garden.  What else are you going to plant, Jack?”

“I thought I’d put in—­say two rows of tomatoes, one row of onions, and one of peppers.  In the third partition I’d start asters.  I just love asters.  So I’ve made up my mind to make a kind of specialty of these.”

“That’s fine!  May I help?”

“You certainly may, for you are a help.”

Elizabeth chuckled away to herself, for Jack evidently was not questioning where she got her knowledge.  “It seems to me,” she rather timidly suggested, “that it would look more shipshape to label these rows, and put in little sticks where each row begins and ends.”

“Well now, that is a fine suggestion.”  So Jack stuck in some little sticks he got from the woodshed.  Elizabeth did not dare offer some nicely made little markers laid away in her desk for future use.  She feared those would call forth questions.

Jack brought out a hammer and tacks.  Then writing the names of the seeds on the little envelopes Elizabeth had brought out, he tacked one over each row onto the inside of the frame.  They both stood off and admired the work.

Warm days Jack opened the frame, at first only a little, and later, wide open for all day.  One night he forgot to close it, and a slight frost made a sorry looking set of seedlings next morning.  He lost every single plant except a few little asters, which were protected by the inner partition of the frame.  These seedlings he watered at intervals all day.  This was at Elizabeth’s suggestion.  By this treatment these were saved.  So Jack, sadder and wiser, started over again.