“You boys are altogether too smart,” and Dee turned her back on Myron to accept a second dish of cream from Philip.

That didn’t disturb Myron any, for he cakewalked back to the kitchen for more cream.

“Well, it was a fine exhibit for mere lads,” Jack’s father was heard to say on his way home; “If we could bring into this little village a few more men like our boys’ Chief there would be no question about a boy’s coming up all right.  It makes me ashamed to think that we parents have left this work to an outsider.”

“I feel,” answered George’s father, “that this man is a real ’insider’.”

After all the guests had left The Chief’s once again the boys formed their line and saluted the man.

“Is there nothing for us this winter, O Chief?” asked Albert.

“Plenty.  We are going to have a beautiful winter, and next spring better work.”

Laden with their trophies the boys reluctantly started for home.  They stood in the road in front of The Chief’s gate, and the moon shone down on seven happy, manly boys.  The three cheers to The Chief arose clear and shrill on the still evening air.  As it died away the boys seemed to melt into the shadows of the road.

The man stood motionless in his doorway until the last sound of the boys died away.  Then he went back into the room to dream over the fire dreams for his boys.

PART II

THE CHIEF’S GARDEN TALKS

I

THE SOIL

The following winter The Chief gave Friday afternoon talks to his boys and girls.  These meetings did not in any way interfere with the boys’ regular Saturday evening club.

Immediately after school each Friday afternoon they all trooped round to The Chief’s little house, which had become a centre of village interest.  Finally the men came too, for they had found out that this man knew of what he spoke.

But we are wandering away from those Friday afternoons.

There was the strangest collection of stools and benches in The Chief’s side entry, all belonging to the boys and girls.  “You must each one bring your own seat, because you all know that I haven’t chairs enough to go around.”  And this called forth the collection.

It was an odd sight that first Friday in early November.  A long straggly line of boys and girls, each one with a seat of some kind, wound its way up to The Chief’s hospitable door, where he stood waiting, laughing aloud at the sight.  In they came, and made a semi-circle about the big fireplace.

“I just love this room,” said Albert, voicing the feelings of them all.

“I have thought,” began The Chief, “that since our really successful first year of gardening, we ought to be in a position to undertake and to desire to know more about certain subjects which I shall discuss.  Each Friday I am going to take up a topic such as I should if I were teaching you in school.”