Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1902-10-22
A Little and a Big Fellow.

There were SO plump muskmelon
seeds, and Bobbie planted them very
carefully, tucking nine in each one
of the four mounds of earth his fat
hands had heaped, smoothed, and
patted down.
My gardens to be all melons this
year. I'll have enough to eat, and
lots to SELL" he called out proudly to
Harry Wood
Now Bobbie and Harry were great
friends, though the former was only
five years old and recently out of
kits, while the latter wore a stand-up
collar, butterfly necktie, and was
even thinking about putting on long
trousers"
Harry's tone, though patronizing,
was kind, as he inquired, 80 you
really think, sonny, that you'll have a
big crop of melons?"
"Of course!" And Bobbie's voice
was full of pride. 81 mean to take
awfully good care of the plants"
And, indeed, as the weeks went by
Bobbie did tend his melons faith
fully, and in spite of many discourage
ments. For in two of the brown
mounds the seeds failed to appear;
whether they had been planted too
deep, or whether they had been nib
bled by some wandering worm, nobody
could tell.
However, the other two mounds soon
bristled with luxuriant green plants.
These, under Uncle Jed's advice, Bob
bic thinned out carefully, weeded, and
watered. Then, alas! one night when
the little boy was sound asleep
dreaming of luscious melons,, an
evil-minded cutworm sawed away in
the moonlight, and, when morning
came, half the plants lay whiting and
dying.
Bobbie would have cried over them,
but then, salt water wasn't good for
plants (only asparagus, Uncle Jed
said); and so, instead, he did his best
to save the rest of his plants. SCOT
from the kitchen stovepipe, tobacco
from another pipe (the hired man's),
routed the wicked cutworms. Then a
warm rain, followed by sunshiny days,
made the melons grow as fast as "Mr.
Finneys turnip behind the barn"
They got ahead of weeds, bugs, and
worms, and began to put forth pert
little runners dotted with yellow BIOS
SONS.
Then, one woful day, Mrs. O'Brien's
COW got out of the pasture, and wan
dered about until she reached the
Barker garden; and, on her way to
reach the dozen rows of young corn,
what must she do but place her feet
right on his last hill of melons, smash
ing every trailing vine but one.
And this time Bobbie cried. And
Harry Wood, who came over to see
the extent of the damage, tried to
whistle cheerily, as he said, ''Well, the
old bessie didn't tread on your very
best vine. See, you have one left,
and-my stars, IL there isn't melon
on 1t as large as my biggest agate
MARBLE"
Now Bobbie hadn't noticed this, and
he was so delighted that he quite for
got his tears.
The one lonely melon grew rapidly
until it began to look very well. Then
one day-it was when Bobbie and the
rest of the Barkers went to the county
fair-the young Plymouth Rock roos-
ter squeezed himself through the
chickenyard palings; and what else
must he do but stalk boldly up to that
melon, and begin to peck at it, Tap,
tap, tap! went his yellow beak until
he broke right into the juicy, salmon
pink heart.
It was Harry Wood who saw him,
and drove him back into the hen-yard.
But most of the melon rode away
in the stomach of the Plymouth Rock.
Harry looked down mournfully at
the bits of rind, scattered seeds, and
pulp remaining on the melon hill.
Then he gathered up the mess, and
threw it among the burdocks on the
other side of the garden fence After
which his long legs carried him down
to the Italians fruit sore; and, when
he came out again, he bore bulging
paper bag. Hurrying up street, he
reached the Barker yard,-reached
Bobbie's Inflated melon patch, and
then-and then
The Barkers came home from the
county fair, and Bobbie went out to
his garden There had been mel
ons at the fair, and the sight Of them
had filled him with fresh affection for
his own solitary treasure. EIe bent
over the brown mound, parted the
green leaves, and-oh, wonder of won
ders!
MA! MAJ" Bobbie shouted. "Do
come here. Why, my melon has grown
lots just while I've been gone! And
it's so ripe that it's loosened itself
from the stem. Oh-ee! it's perfectly
lovely"
The Plymouth Rock stuck his red
comb through the chicken-yard fence,
and crowed derisdvely; but Bobbie
didn't notice him.
And Harry Wood was chuckling to
himself across the street, as he said:
That quarter | was saving toward