Yes, that’s right, Mary Frances! By CULTIVATION. * * * * * “Jiminy! what a long lesson!” exclaimed Billy, wiping his forehead, “What’re you going to do for me, Mary Frances, for all this wonderful instruction?” “I’ll give a dinner in your honor, Professor, and let you invite whom you please.” “On one condition,” said Billy, “that every thing we have will come out of your garden!” “Agreed!” “To-morrow we begin real work and put into practice some of these remarkable lectures,” added Billy earnestly. “Oh, how glad I am!” exclaimed Mary Frances. “Billy, it seems too wonderful! My, I’m glad Mother and Father sent you away to school, though I did miss you terribly, but you learned such a lot that it makes up for it.” “Augh! Mary Frances, you make a fellow feel queer, I wasn’t such a perfect little _angel_ in _school_.” “Oh, certainly not, certainly not, Billy,” laughed Mary Frances, “that’s the wonder of it—to think a bad boy like you could learn so much, that’s the puzzle to me.” “Humm!” said Billy to himself as he looked after Mary Frances’ fleeting figure, “It’s lucky for that girl that I’m a scout.” CHAPTER XVII NAMES OF PARTS OF FLOWERS THE children worked in the garden early and late for days, and if the grown-ups in the big house suspected they were gardening, they did not hint that they thought of such a thing. Billy spaded, and Mary Frances planted, and Feather Flop looked on from a distance whenever Billy was anywhere to be seen. One day, Mary Frances met him as she came to the compost heap, where she was going to throw some weeds and grass cuttings. “Why, Feather Flop,” she exclaimed, “I haven’t seen you for ever-so-long! Where have you been?” “I’ve been—I’ve been—watching,” said Feather Flop, “and when I’ve thought I dared, I’ve weeded your garden; yes, I have. Haven’t you noticed how few weeds there were?” he asked anxiously. “I have, Feather Flop, indeed I have; only the other day I said to Billy, ‘I almost could imagine someone had been “cultivating” the garden this morning.’” “That was the morning I got up before daylight, and went out there and scratched, and scratched, where I felt _sure_ I would not disturb anything which ought not to be disturbed,” said Feather Flop, delighted. “My,” said Mary Frances, “how perfectly dear of you, Feather Flop; I can’t begin to tell you the wonderful fairy-story-feeling I have, to know that all the time that Billy and I are studying and working, you are so interested and kind, so anxious to help me!” “Oh, yes, dear Miss,” sighed the happy rooster; “but I certainly do wish I could do more and be with you oftener.” “Never mind, Feather Flop,” said the little girl. “Some day when Billy goes to town, we’ll spend the whole day together.” “Good!” cried Feather Flop, delighted. “Good! and now, please let me show you where I found so many cutworms.” Mary Frances and he walked over to the garden.