“It takes longer than you’d think,” said Feather Flop, beginning to scratch, “especially with an empty stomach.” “How dreadful of me not to think of your breakfast, Feather Flop,” she said, and ran to get some corn. “Thanks, thanks,” said Feather Flop, hungrily eating. “If they only didn’t keep the food locked up, I could help myself, and not have to trouble anybody.” “Well, this is not gardening,” he went on; “and besides, I want my dessert. I had splendid luck yesterday—four hundred and fifty-one grubs I ate, and several score of nice long worms. Besides, I let Robin Redbreast have a hundred or so.” “Oh, my,” shuddered Mary Frances. “What’s the matter?” asked Feather Flop, looking up. “You didn’t want any, did you? I’d have been delighted to have saved some for you.” “Oh, my, no!” cried Mary Frances. “Oh, no, thank you! No!” “You’re sure?” inquired Feather Flop. “Well, you must certainly be glad they are not left here in the garden to eat up your plants, I know.” “Indeed! I’m much obliged, Feather Flop,” said Mary Frances. “While you dig, I’m going into the house to get some seeds, and to plan out my garden.” “All right!” said Feather Flop. “Don’t mention me, please, to——you know.” CHAPTER III BILLY PLANS THE GARDEN “MARY FRANCES,” called Billy, as she came into the house, “I say, let’s start work in your garden to-day. The first thing to do is to dig and spade it.” “Oh, Billy, it looks as though it had been done,” answered Mary Frances. “I guess I can plant it right away.” “Ha! Ha!” laughed Billy. “Why, it has to be dug deep; the earth has to be turned under, and compost mixed with it and all pulverized before little seeds or plants can take hold with their roots.” “How deep?” asked Mary Frances. “Oh, about a foot, I guess,” said Billy; “but don’t let’s talk too loud if you want to keep this garden a secret. Let’s go out and have a look at it.” “You needn’t mind—” began Mary Frances, but Billy was well on the way. “That old Rhode Island Red! See what he’s done!” exclaimed Billy, throwing a stone at the rooster. “Oh, Billy,” begged Mary Frances. “Poor old Feather Flop! Don’t scare him! Maybe he thought he was helping!” “Helping?” laughed Billy. “Helping! If he tries to help that way when things come up, I’ll wring his neck!” “Oh, you wouldn’t do that, Billy,” cried Mary Frances. “He’ll be good, I know.” “Well,” said Billy, “you’re responsible for his behavior then—he’s your rooster. I’d like to clip his wings and cut his tail off right up next his ears—maybe.” “He will be good, Billy, I feel sure,” answered Mary Frances. “But you are very kind to dig my garden up.” “Well,” answered Billy with a very grown-up air, “I know what sort of an undertaking this is. How’re you going to lay the garden out?” “Oh, I don’t know yet,” answered Mary Frances. “Won’t you help me plan it?” “Yes, but it’s best to begin with pencil and paper; that’s the first thing Miss Gardener told us in our ‘Home Garden Course.’”