Had this fence not been
so overgrown by vines, wandering hens could have gone in and out of the
garden at pleasure.

Robins were whisking in and out of the tops of the trees, quarreling
over the first of the cherry crop. Janice heard Marty's hoe and she
opened the garden gate. About half of this good-sized patch was given
over to the "'tater" crop; the remainder of the garden seemed--to the
casual glance--merely a wilderness of weeds. There may have been rows of
vegetable seeds planted there in the beginning; but now it was a perfect
mat of green things that have no commercial value--to say the least.

Marty was about halfway down the first row of potatoes. He was cleaning
the row pretty well, and the weeds were wilting in the sun; but the rows
were as crooked as a snake's path.

"Hullo!" said the boy, willing to stop and lean on the hoe handle.
"Don't you want to help?"

"I don't believe I could hoe, Marty," said Janice, doubtfully.

"If you'd been a boy cousin, I wouldn't have minded," grunted Marty. "He
and me could have had some fun."

"Don't you think _I_ can be any fun?" demanded Janice, rather amused by
the frankness of the youth.

"Never saw a gal that was," responded Marty. "Always in the way. Marm
says I got to be perlite to 'em----"

"And is that such a cross?"

"Don't know anything about no cross," growled Marty; "but a boy cousin
that I could lick would ha' been a whole lot more to my mind."

"Oh, Marty! we're not going to quarrel."

"I dunno whether we are or not," returned the pessimistic youth. "Wait
till there's only one piece o' pie left at dinner some day. You'll have
ter have it. Marm'll say so. But if you was a boy--an' I could lick
ye--ye wouldn't dare take it. D'ye see?"

"I'm not so awfully fond of pie," admitted Janice. "And I wouldn't let a
piece stand in the way of our being good friends."

"Oh, well; we'll see," said Marty, grudgingly. "But ye can't hoe, ye
say?"

"I don't believe so. I'd cut off more potato plants than weeds, maybe.
Can't you cultivate your potatoes with a horse cultivator? I see the
farmers doing that around Greensboro. It's lots quicker."

"Oh, we got a horse-hoe," said Marty, without interest. "But it got
broke an' Dad ain't fixed it yet. B'sides, ye couldn't use it 'twixt
these rows. They're too crooked. But then--as the feller said--there's
more plants in a crooked row."

"What's all that?" demanded Janice, waving a hand toward the other half
of the