Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1889-04-01
sl1omth's Column.
Seeds that Will Grow.

y
other row. was the injunction called
after me as | crossed the chip-yard,
seed-box and dipper in hand, on my
way to the cornfeld.
At first, my task seemed nothing
but play. The corn had already been
planted; and the fiat hoe-mark on the
top of each hill plainly marked where
L was to crowd the pumpkin seeds
into the mellow earth. Row after
row 1 followed up and down the field,
skipping one, planting one: and still
the box of seeds did not give out.
"Drop the field as far as the seeds
will go, was another command l had
received; and many a longing look
did | cast at the cool farm house in
the distance and then at the contents
of that box, as the forenoon wore
away, and the sun grew hot.
Ten times had / replenished my
little tin dipper from the seed-box,
wooden box in which window glass
had been packed, narrow and deep,
so deep it did not seem to have any
bottom, as L shook up the pumpkin
seeds again and again, to see if they
were not almost gone.
Fourteen more rows, seven Of them
to be planted, and the opposite limit
of the cornfeld would be reached, and
every reason to believe that the seeds
would last till the whole field was
planted.
''Father didn't expect me to drop
so many. | heard him tell mother he
should plant half the field with pump
kins and half with beans. I really
don't believe he wants me to drop
these last seven rows" argued with
myself. II am so warm and tired, [
believe l will go home.'' And, keep
ing a sharp lookout on the porch door
that opened toward the field, and Civ
ing a guilty glance around the prem
ises, to be sure that no one was look
ing, / kicked deep hole in the mel
low soil with my bare feet, and pour
ed into it the remaining seeds in the
box, packing dirt over them firmly
and deep.
eff father questions me, I can tell
him I dropped them all and those in
the hole will never show their heads
again above ground, [ am positive,
they are buried so deeply" / tho't,
as l retraced my steps toward the
kitchen threshold.
Father was sick with slow fever;
and, calling me to his bedside as [
came in, he infinitely questioned me
as to how the s'seeds held out"
With guilty, downcast eyes, I told
him l had planted the entire field as
he directed, excepting the last seven
rows.
"And you dropped all the seed?"
he asked, his wan face looking up
from the white pillows.
eyes," l answered in a low tone,
and then moved to the window.
"Because," he continued, 'sNeigh-
Dor Burns wanted a few seeds badly,
if we had any to spare. thought
surely there would be pint or more
left. Tell John to plant beans in
every hill of the rows that contain no
pumpkin SEEDS
"If l had only known he intended
having beans planted in one row and
pumpkins in the next, l never would
have buried those seeds,' thought,
standing there conscience-smitten.
But to me there then seemed no help
for what l had done.
Each day for two weeks l secretly
visited that grave of pumpkin seeds
in the centre of the cornfeld, to be
sure there was no cracking of the
earth to let the green germs through
into the sunlight; but 1 found no
sign that there was life beneath.
Then l relaxed my vigilance, and in
a few weeks had forgotten-not my
the possibility of the seeds
sprouting.
The last of July father was able to
creep over his fields lying near the
house, by the help of his cane. In
one of his walks, joined him; and
together we passed through the corn
field, the hills now waving with corn
a foot in height, and pumpkin vines
just branching over the ground be-
tween the rows. Our footsteps were
arrested by perfect tangle
of vines, whose matted network COW
cred large circular spot visible in
the corn.
"Why, WHY how is this?' ex-
claimed father, STOPPING to critically
examine the ground. "Here are
vines by the score, dwarfed because
they were so thickly planted, but
pumpkin vines, surely"
My heart gave great thump. as
the truth flashed across my mind.
This was the very spot where l had
hidden those seeds; and, owing to
the depth of soil that covered them,
they had terminated slowly, but had
struggled into the light at last to con-
lemn me.
1 dared not speak and father re-
NAMED silent, poking his cane in the
ground among the vines until he had
lnearthed a heap of swollen seeds,
some decaying. but more with coiling,
ong, pale sprouts creeping from their
shells, and others with well-developed
cotyledonous leaves. At last, he
looked up, and, keenly scanning my
crimson, conscious face, said, ''Hel-
en-, is this your work %
FHbo,o 49, c,ol, a ri ~ loua op6