There was in the little woman's mind only speculations concerning the proposed addition to her family, which she believed, owing to the fact that Joe had not had an opportunity of making the proper explanation, would be permanent, and in connection with this was the making of the garden. Therefore it was she set about directing the young workmen in her customary manner, determined that no more time should be spent on the task than was absolutely necessary. Aunt Dorcas had brought with her a small basket containing many tiny packages, each neatly tied and labelled, and she had her own opinion as to where the different kinds of seeds should be sown. "George, you make the hills for the potatoes, while Joseph and I plant the sweet corn." It was necessary for her to speak twice before Master Plummer realised she was addressing him, so unfamiliar did the name sound, and when he finally became aware of the fact, he asked, in a careless tone, as if planting potatoes were work with which he was thoroughly conversant: "How many hills do you want, aunt Dorcas, an' how big do they generally run out this way?" "Put in four rows, and there is no need of making them very large until after the plants are up." Then aunt Dorcas went with Joe to the opposite side of the garden, and, intent on having the corn planted after a certain peculiar fashion of her own, gave no heed to what Plums was doing, for ten minutes or more; but when she did observe that young gentleman's method of working, a cry of surprise and disapproval burst from her lips. "Whatever are you doing, George?" "Makin' these hills, of course," Plums replied, quietly, without ceasing his work of shovelling the soft earth up into huge mounds, each of which was twelve or fifteen times as large as it should have been. "Well, bless the boy, he don't even know how to plant potatoes!" and the little woman regarded the results of Master Plummer's labour in dismay. "Weren't you ever on a farm, George?" "I never was so far in the country as this before in my life," and Plums wiped the perspiration from his flushed face; for, strange as it may seem, he had, during these few moments, been working quite industriously. [Illustration: "'WELL, BLESS THE BOY, HE DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO PLANT POTATOES!'"] "You need a hoe instead of a shovel, and the hills should be made something like these," aunt Dorcas said, as she pointed to where Joe, thanks to her minute instructions, was performing his part of the task in almost a workmanlike manner. Plums would have grumbled when the little woman insisted on his demolishing the grotesque mounds which had cost him so much labour, but that he remembered how dependent he was upon aunt Dorcas for food and shelter, and held his peace.