Farm life -- Fiction; Love stories; New England -- Fiction
On the other side we decided to eliminate all flower beds in the open,
merely planting iris and forget-me-not on the rim of the pool. We would
clear out a wide semicircle of lawn, with the bench at the centre of
the circumference, and plant our remaining flowers against the shrubbery
on the sides, which was chiefly the wild red osier dogwood (_cornus
stolonifera_). I got a brush scythe, a hatchet, a spade, a grub hoe,
and a rake, and we went to work.
Work is certainly the word. It was not difficult to clear the brush and
the tall, rank weeds and grasses away from our semicircle, which was
hardly more than thirty feet in diameter, but to spade up the black
soil thereafter, to eliminate the long, tenacious roots of the witch
grass and the weeds, to clear out the stubborn stumps of innumerable
little trees and wild shrubs which had overrun the place, to spread
evenly the big pile of soil we had excavated from the pool, to reduce
it all to a clean, level condition for sowing grass, was more than I had
bargained for. Stella gave up helping, for it was beyond her strength;
but I kept on, through the long, hot July afternoons, and at last had it
ready. The time of year was anything but propitious for sowing grass
seed, but we planted it, none the less, trusting that in such a low,
moist spot it might make a catch. Then we turned to the bench.
"Gracious, you have to be everything to be a gardener, don't you?"
Stella laughed, as we tried to draw a sketch first, which should satisfy
us. "The bench ought to balance the old Governor Winthrop highboy top of
the front door. But I'm sure I don't know how we're going to make it."
"Patience," said I, turning the leaves of a catalogue of expensive
marble garden furniture. "Just a simple design of the classic period
will do. Colonial furniture was based on the Greek orders."
We found at last the picture of a marble bench which could be duplicated
in general outline with wooden planking, so I telephoned to the lumber
dealer in the next town for two twenty-four-inch wide chestnut planks,
and was fairly staggered by the bill when it came. It appears that a
twenty-four-inch wide plank nowadays has to come from North Carolina, or
some other distant point, and is rarer than charity, at least that is
what they told me.
"I think it would be cheaper in marble," said Stella. "And it looks to
me as if you could make the bench out of one plank."
"We want another bench on the sundial lawn," said I, wisely.
"You do _now_," said she.
"But if I hadn't got two planks," said I, "and had spoiled the first
one, then we'd have had to wait two or three days again."
"Oh, that was the reason!" she smiled.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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