The Brunswick news. [volume] (Brunswick, Ga.) 1901-1903, 1902-10-12


hands had heaped, smoothed, and
patted down.
My gardens to be all melons this
year. I'll shave 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 sJandup
collar, butterfly necktie. and was
even thinking about putting on long
trousers
Harrys tone. though patronizing,
was kind. as he inquired. so you
really think, sonny that you'll have a
big crop of melons?"
"Of course" And Bobbie's voice
was full Of pride. Il mean to take
awfully good care of the plants
And, indeed. as the weeks went by
BoDbie 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 thlnned out carefully, weeded and
watered. Then, alas! one night when
the little boy was sound asleep
dreaming of lusc - melons,, an
evilminded 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 stoyepipe. tobacco
from another pipe tthe hired man's),
routed the wicked cutworms. Then
warm rain, followed by sunshiny days,
made the melons grow as fast as "Mr
Finncy's 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 abct. 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. If there isn't a melon
on it as large as my t,ygest 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 Bankers went to the county
tair--the young Plymouth Rock roos-
ter squeezed himself through the
chickenyard palings; and what else
must he do bat stalk boldly up to that
melon. and begin to peck at it! Tap
tap tap, went his yellow beak until
ne broke right into the juicy salmon
pink heart.
1t was Harry Wood who saw him,
and drove him back into the hen-yard.
Bur 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, whena
he came out again, he bore a bullying
paper bag. Hurrying up street, he
re:Whed the Barker yard,-reached
Bob1ie's Inflated melon patch, and
then-and then
The Bankers came home from the
county fair, and Bobbie went out to
his garden. There had been mel
ors at the fair, and the sight of them
had filed him with fresh affection for
his own solitary treasure. He bent
over the brown mound, parted Ne
green leaves. and-oh. wonder of won
dersi
Ma, ma Bohbie 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 derisiyely; but Bobbie
didn't notice him.
And Harry Wood was cluckling to
himself across the street. as he said:
That quarter | was saving toward
my new air-gun is gene. but I don't
care. The joke was worth % cents.
And, anyhow. a big fellow kind of
ought to look out for little fellow"
sunday School Times.