ather put the fertilizer on the top, and then raked it into the earth.

At last, it was time to make the place for the seeds. Margery and her
mother helped. Father tied one end of a cord to a little stake, and
drove the stake in the ground at one end of the garden. Then he took
the cord to the other end of the garden and pulled it tight, tied it to
another stake, and drove that down. That made a straight line for him
to see. Then he hoed a trench, a few inches deep, the whole length of
the cord, and scattered fertilizer in it. Pretty soon the whole garden
was in lines of little trenches.

"Now for the corn," said father.

Margery ran and brought the seed box, and found the package of corn.
It looked like kernels of gold, when it was opened.

"May I help?" Margery asked, when she saw how pretty it was.

"If you watch me sow one row, I think you can do the next," said her
father.

So Margery watched. Her father took a handful of kernels, and,
stooping, walked slowly along the line, letting the kernels fall, five
or six at a time, in spots about a foot apart; he swung his arm with a
gentle, throwing motion, and the golden seeds trickled out like little
showers, very exactly. It was pretty to watch; it made Margery think
of a photograph her teacher had, a photograph of a famous picture
called "The Sower." Perhaps you have seen it.

Putting in the seed was not so easy to do as to watch; sometimes
Margery got in too much, and sometimes not enough; but her father
helped fix it, and soon she did better.

They planted peas, beans, spinach, carrots, and parsnips. And
Margery's father made a row of holes, after that, for the tomato
plants. He said those had to be transplanted; they could not be sown
from seed.

When the seeds were in the trenches they had to be covered up, and
Margery really helped at that. It is fun to do it. You stand beside
the little trench and walk backward, and as you walk you hoe the loose
earth back over the seeds; the same dirt that was hoed up you pull back
again. Then you rake very gently over the surface, with the back of a
rake, to even it all off. Margery liked it, because now the garden
began to look LIKE a garden.

But best of all was the work next day, when her own little particular
garden was begun. Father Brown loved Margery and Margery's mother so
much that he wanted their garden to be perfect, and that meant a great
deal more work. He knew very well that the old gras