be done once or so, and they get ripe soon. I'm going to
try 'em, for I spoke first. Stuffy wanted 'em, but he's got to take
peas; they only have to be picked, and he ought to do it, he eats such a
lot."

"I wonder if I shall have a garden?" said Nat, thinking that even
corn-hoeing must be pleasant work.

"Of course you will," said a voice from below, and there was Mr. Bhaer
returned from his walk, and come to find them, for he managed to have
a little talk with every one of the lads some time during the day, and
found that these chats gave them a good start for the coming week.

Sympathy is a sweet thing, and it worked wonders here, for each boy knew
that Father Bhaer was interested in him, and some were readier to open
their hearts to him than to a woman, especially the older ones, who
liked to talk over their hopes and plans, man to man. When sick or in
trouble they instinctively turned to Mrs. Jo, while the little ones made
her their mother-confessor on all occasions.

In descending from their nest, Tommy fell into the brook; being used to
it, he calmly picked himself out and retired to the house to be dried.
This left Nat to Mr. Bhaer, which was just what he wished, and, during
the stroll they took among the garden plots, he won the lad's heart by
giving him a little "farm," and discussing crops with him as gravely as
if the food for the family depended on the harvest. From this pleasant
topic they went to others, and Nat had many new and helpful thoughts put
into a mind that received them as gratefully as the thirsty earth had
received the warm spring rain. All supper time he brooded over them,
often fixing his eyes on Mr. Bhaer with an inquiring look, that seemed
to say, "I like that, do it again, sir." I don't know whether the man
understood the child's mute language or not, but when the boys were all
gathered together in Mrs. Bhaer's parlor for the Sunday evening talk,
he chose a subject which might have been suggested by the walk in the
garden.

As he looked about him Nat thought it seemed more like a great family
than a school, for the lads were sitting in a wide half-circle round the
fire, some on chairs, some on the rug, Daisy and Demi on the knees of
Uncle Fritz, and Rob snugly stowed away in the back of his mother's
easy-chair, where he could nod unseen if the talk got beyond his depth.

Every one looked quite comfortable, and listened attentively, for the
long walk made rest agreeable, and as every