“I ought to know a lot about gardening. I’ve lived in a garden most of the time ever since I was hatched,” shrilled Feather Flop. “Yes, you have,” laughed Mary Frances, “and you’ve eaten up what you oughtn’t to, too.” “That was when I was bad. I’m going to be good now.” “Oh, well, that is different,” replied Mary Frances. “What’s the first thing to do?” “Let me see,” said Feather Flop, scratching his head with one foot. “Let me see—why, the first thing—the first thing is to get the ground ready!” “What do you do to get it ready?” asked Mary Frances. “Why, dig, of course,” answered Feather Flop. “I can dig.” “Well, well,” replied Mary Frances, “I see you really want to help me, so we’ll plan out what we’re going to do. I want all kinds of flowers and vegetables.” “Did you start the seeds in the house in March so that some would be ready to set out now?” asked Feather Flop anxiously. “Oh, no,” said Mary Frances, “but Billy did. He has a lot of little seedlings growing.” “Can’t you steal some?” asked Feather Flop. “Oh, I wouldn’t do that, Feather Flop,” said Mary Frances. “Would you? I’d rather ask Billy for them.” “Don’t say anything about me when you do,” begged the rooster. “Why?” queried Mary Frances. “I’m afraid of him. He’s chased me out of the——” “Vegetable garden several times this Spring, already,” laughed Mary Frances. “Maybe if he knew how much you wanted to help with this surprise garden of mine, he would be kinder to you.” “He’s kind enough,” said Feather Flop, “but I’m not anxious to know him much better yet a while. So I’ll ask you not to mention me.” “All right,” agreed Mary Frances, “I think I understand. But Billy wouldn’t hurt you.” “Do you really wish me to help you, Miss Mary Frances?” asked the rooster. “I certainly do, Feather Flop,” said the little girl; “if you will be so kind.” She could scarcely keep from laughing at how pleased and proud he looked. “Then, let us take a look at the garden plot,” he said, leading the way to the front of Mary Frances’ play house. “I’ll set right to work,” said Feather Flop, beginning to scratch, “right to work, and dig the whole afternoon, and early to-morrow morning, too.” “Don’t work too hard,” said the little girl. “I think I ought to help you.” “Oh, no, little Miss,” answered Feather Flop. “Why, see what’s done already.” Mary Frances put her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing aloud as she looked at the little round hole the rooster had made. “You do splendidly,” she said, “and to-morrow morning I’ll be here bright and early.” “Just one question,” called Feather Flop. “Is the garden a secret?” Mary Frances turned back. “In a way,” she explained. “You see, Father gave Billy a part of our big garden for his camp and garden——” “I know,” said Feather Flop, nodding. “I was down there one day—and I don’t care to go again.”