“Your words almost take the ache out of my back,” I said.  “I fear we shouldn’t have much of a garden if I had to dig it all, but I thought I’d make a beginning with a few early vegetables.”

“That’s well enough, but a plow beats a fork all hollow.  You’ll know what I mean when you see my plow going down to the beam and loosenin’ the ground from fifteen to twenty inches.  So burn your big brush-pile, and get out what manure you’re goin’ to put in the garden, and I’ll be ready when you are.”

“All right.  Thank you.  I’ll just plant some radishes, peas, and beans.”

“Not beans yet, Mr. Durham.  Don’t put those in till the last of the month, and plant them very shallow when you do.”

“How one forgets when there’s not much experience to fall back upon!  I now remember that my book said that beans, in this latitude, should not be planted until about the 1st of May.”

“And lima beans not till the 10th of May,” added Mr. Jones.  “You might put in a few early beets here, although the ground is rather light for ’em.  You could put your main crop somewhere else.  Well, let me know when you’re ready.  Junior and me are drivin’ things, too, this mornin’;” and he stalked away, whistling a hymn-tune in rather lively time.

I said:  “Youngsters, I think I’ll get my garden book and be sure I’m right about sowing the radish and beet seed and the peas.  Mr. Jones has rather shaken my confidence.”

When Merton came with the next load I told him that he could put the horse in the stable and help us.  As a result, we soon had several rows of radishes and beets sown, fourteen inches apart.  We planted the seed only an inch deep, and packed the ground lightly over it.  Mousie, to her great delight, was allowed to drop a few of the seeds.  Merton was ambitious to take the fork, but I soon stopped him, and said:  “Digging is too heavy work for you, my boy.  There is enough that you can do without overtaxing yourself.  We must all act like good soldiers.  The campaign of work is just opening, and it would be very foolish for any of us to disable ourselves at the start.  We’ll plant only half a dozen rows of these dwarf peas this morning, and then this afternoon we’ll have the bonfire and get ready for Mr. Jones’s plow.”

At the prospect of the bonfire the younger children set up shouts of exultation, which cheered me on as I turned over the soil with the fork, although often stopping to rest.  My back ached, but my heart was light.  In my daily work now I had all my children about me, and their smaller hands were helping in the most practical way.  Their voices were as joyous as the notes of the robins, song-sparrows, and bluebirds that were singing all about us.  A soft haze half obscured the mountains, and mellowed the sunshine.  From the springing grass and fresh-turned soil came odors sweet as those which made Eden fragrant after “a mist went up from the earth and watered the whole face of the ground.”