Daddy Takes Us to the Garden Part 1

Daddy Takes Us to the Garden.

by Howard R. Garis.

CHAPTER I

A NEW GAME

"Mother, what can we do now?"

"Tell us something to play, please! We want to have some fun!"

As Harry and Mabel Blake said this they walked slowly up the path toward the front porch, on which their mother was sitting one early Spring day.

The two children did not look very happy.

"What can we do?" asked Hal, as he was called more often than Harry.

"There isn't any more fun," complained Mab, to which her name was often shortened.

"Oh, my!" laughed Mother Blake. "Such a sadness! What doleful faces you both have. I hope they don't freeze so and stay that way. It would be dreadful!"

"It can't freeze," said Hal. "It's too warm. Daddy told us how cold it had to be to freeze. The ther--ther--Oh, well the thing you tell how cold it is--has to get down to where it says number 32 before there's ice."

"You mean the thermometer," said Mab.

"That's it," agreed Hal. "And look, the shiny thing--mercury, that's the name of it--the mercury is at 60 now. It can't freeze, Mother."

"Well, I'm glad it can't, for I wouldn't want your face to turn into ice the way it looked a little while ago."

"But there's no fun, Mother," and Mab, whose face, as had her brother's, had lost its fretful look while they were talking about the thermometer, again seemed cross and unhappy. "We can't have any fun!"

"Why don't you play some games?" asked Mrs. Blake, smiling at the two children.

"We did," answered Hal. "We tried to play tag, but it's too muddy to run off the paths, and it's no fun, staying in one place. We can't play ball, 'cause Mab can't throw like a boy, and I'm not going to play doll with her."

"I didn't ask you to!" said Mab quickly. "I was going to play doll by myself."

"Yes, but you'd want me to be a doctor, or something, when your doll got sick--you always do."

"I should think that would be fun," said Mother Blake. "Why don't you play doll and doctor?"

"I'm not going to play doll!" declared Hal, and his face looked crosser than ever.

"Oh, it isn't nice to talk that way," said his mother. "You ought to be glad if Mab wanted you to be a doctor for her sick doll. But perhaps you can think of something else--some new game. Just sit down a moment and we'll talk. Then perhaps you'll think of something. I wonder why it is so warm to-day, and why there is no danger of anything freezing--not your faces of course, for I know you wouldn't let that happen. But why is it so warm; do you know?"

"'Cause it's Spring," answered Hal. "Everybody knows that."

"Oh, no, not everybody," replied his mother. "Your dog Roly-Poly doesn't know it."

"Oh, yes, Mother! I think he does!" cried Mab. "He was rolling over and over in the gra.s.s to-day, even if it was all wet like a sponge. He never did that in the Winter."

"Well, perhaps dogs and cats do know when it is Spring. The birds do, I'm sure, for then they come up from the South, where they have spent the Winter, and begin to build their nests. So you think it is warm to-day because it is Spring; do you, Hal?"

"Yes, Mother," he replied. "It's time Winter was gone, anyhow. And the trees know it is going to be Summer soon, for they are swelling out their buds."

"And after a while there'll be flowers," added Mab. "Didn't we have fun, Hal, when Daddy took us hunting flowers?"

"Yes, and when he took us to the woods, and to see the different kinds of birds," added the little boy. "We had lots of fun then."

"I wish we could have some of that kind of fun now," went on Mab. "When's Daddy coming home, Mother?"

"Oh, not for quite a while. He has to work and earn money you know. He has to earn more than ever, now that everything costs so much on account of the war. Daddies don't have a very easy time these days."

"Do Mothers?" asked Mab, thinking of how she played mother to her dolls.

Maybe, she thought, she could make up a new game, pretending how hard it was for dolls' mothers these days.

"Well, mothers have to do many things they did not have to do when things to eat and wear did not cost so much," spoke Mother Blake. "We have to make one loaf of bread go almost as far as two loaves used to go, and as for clothes--well, I am mending some of yours, Hal, that, last year, I thought were hardly useful any more. But we must save all we can. So that's why Daddy has to work harder and longer, and why he can't come home Sat.u.r.day afternoons as early as he used to."

It was a Sat.u.r.day afternoon when Hal and Mab found so much fault about not having any fun. Almost any other day they would have been in school, and have been busy over their lessons. But just now they wanted to play and they were not having a very jolly time, for they could not think of anything to do. Or, at least, they thought they could not.

"What makes it Spring?" asked Hal, after a bit, as he watched his mother putting a patch on his little trousers. Hal remembered how he tore a hole in them one day sliding down a cellar door.

"Tell us what makes Spring, Mother," went on Mab. "That will be as much fun as playing, I guess."

"The sun makes the Spring," said Mrs. Blake "Spring is one of the four seasons. I wonder if you can tell me the others?"

"Which one starts?" asked Hal.

"Spring, of course," exclaimed Mab. "You have to start with something growing, and things grow in the Spring."

"That is right," said Mrs. Blake. "Spring is the beginning of life in the world, when the flowers and birds begin to grow; the flowers from little buds and the birds from little eggs. What comes next?"

"Summer!" cried Hal. "Then's when we can have fun. The ground is dry, so we can play marbles and fly kites. And we can go in swimming and have a long vacation. Summer's the jolly time!"

"It is a time when things grow that start in the Spring," said Mother Blake. "What comes after Summer?"

"Autumn," answered Mab. "Some folks call it Fall. Why do they, Mother?"

"Because the leaves fall from the trees, perhaps. It is a time when the trees and bushes go to sleep, and when most birds fly down to the warm South. And what comes after Autumn or Fall?"

"Christmas!" cried Hal.

"Yes, so it does!" laughed Mrs. Blake. "And I guess most children would say the same thing. But I meant what season."

"It's Winter," Hal said. "Let's see if I know 'em. Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter," he recited. "Four seasons, and this is Spring. I wish it would hurry up and be Summer."

"So do I," agreed Mab. "You can't have any fun now. It's too wet to go without your rubbers, too cold to go without a coat and almost too hot to wear one. I like Summer best."