A Little Garden Calendar for Boys and Girls

"And while we are waiting for the performance to begin," added the Chief Gardener, "suppose you let me tell you something about the performers – where they came from, and some stories that are told of them."

II

HEY FOR THE MERRY LITTLE SWEET-PEA

The Chief Gardener went into the next room, which was the library, and drew a cozy little settee up before the bright hickory fire. It was just wide enough for three, and when he sat down, Davy and Little Prue promptly hopped up, one on each side. In a low rocker near the window Big Prue was doing something with silks and needles and a very bright pair of scissors. The Chief Gardener stirred the fire and looked into it. Then he said:

"Speaking of pease, I wonder if you ever heard this little song about

'THE TWO PEAS

'Oh, a little sweet-pea in the garden grew —
Hey, for the merry little sweet-pea!
And a garden-pea, it grew there, too —
Hi, for the happy little eat-pea!
In all kinds of weather
They grew there together —
Ho, for the pease in the garden!
Hey, for the sweet-pea! Hi, for the eat-pea!
Hey, he, hi, ho, hum!

'Oh, the sweet-pea bloomed and the eat-pea bore —
Hey, for the merry little sweet-pea!
And they both were sent to a poor man's door —
Hi, for the happy little eat-pea!
In all kinds of weather
They came there together!
Ho, for the pease from the garden!
Hey, for the sweet-pea! Hi, for the eat-pea!
Hey, he, hi, ho, hum!

'Now, the poor man's poor little girl lay ill —
What a chance for a merry little sweet-pea!
And there wasn't a cent in the poor man's till —
Good-by to the jolly little eat-pea!
In all kinds of weather
They brought joy together
When they came from the happy little garden!
Hey, for the sweet-pea! Hi, for the eat-pea!
Hey, he, hi, ho, hum!'"

"Was there really ever a poor man and a little sick girl who had pease sent to them?" asked little Prue, as the Chief Gardener finished.

"Oh, I am sure there must have been! A great many of them."

"But the ones you sung about. Those really same ones – did they ever really live, or did you make it up about them?"

"I don't think my pease would be quite enough for a poor man who didn't have a cent of money," said Davy, after thinking about it.

"But my sweet-pease will be enough, only I want to know if there is really such a little girl, so I can send them. Is there, Papa?"

"Well, I am sure we can find such a little girl, if we try. And I know she'd be glad for some sweet-pease. And now here's a little story that I really didn't make up, but read a long time ago.

"Once upon a time there were two friars – "

"What are friars?" asked Prue. "Do they fry things?"

"Well, not exactly, though one of these did do some stewing, and the other, too, perhaps, though in a different way. A friar is a kind of priest, and these two had done something which the abbot, who is the head priest, did not like, so he punished them."

"What did they do?" asked Prue, who liked to know just what people could be punished for.

"I don't remember now. It's so long – "

"What do you s'pose it was?"

"Well, I really can't s'pose, but it may have been because they forgot their prayers. Abbots don't like friars to forget their prayers – "

"If I should forget my prayers, I'd say 'em twice to make up."

"Oh, Prue!" said Davy, "do let Papa go on with the story!"

"But I would. I'd say 'em sixty times!"

"Yes," said the Chief Gardener, "friars have to do that, too, I believe; but these had to do something different. They had to wear pease in their shoes."

"Had to wear pease! In their shoes!"

"Yes, pease, like those we planted, and they had to walk quite a long ways, and, of course, it wouldn't be pleasant to walk with those little hard things under your feet.

"Well, they started, and one of them went limping and stewing along, and making an awful fuss, because his feet hurt him so, but when he looked at the other he saw that instead of hobbling and groaning as he was, he was walking along, as lively as could be, and seemed to be enjoying the fine morning, and was actually whistling.

"'Oh, dear!' said the one who was limping, 'how is it you can walk along so spry, and feel so happy, with those dreadful pease in your shoes?'

"'Why,' said the other, 'before I started, I took the liberty to boil my pease!'"

"But, Papa," began little Prue, "I don't see – "

"I do," said Davy, "it made them soft, so they didn't hurt."

"What kind of pease were they?" asked Prue. "Like Davy's or mine?"

"Well, I've never heard just what kind they were. There are a good many kinds of pease, and they seem to have come from a good many places. Besides the sweet-pease and garden-pease, there are field-pease, used dry for cattle, and in England there is what is called a sea-pea, because it was first found growing on the shore of a place called Sussex, more than three hundred and fifty years ago, in a year of famine. There were many, many of them and they were in a place where even grass had not grown before that time. The people thought they must have been cast up by some shipwrecked vessel, and they gathered them for food, and so kept from going hungry and starving to death. The garden-pea is almost the finest of vegetables, and there are many kinds – some large, some small, some very sweet, some that grow on tall vines and have to have stakes, and some that grow very short without stakes, and are called dwarfs. There are a good many kinds of sweet-pease, too, different sizes and colors, but I think all the different kinds of garden-pease and sweet-pease might have come from one kind of each, a very, very long time ago, and that takes me to another story which I will have to put off until next time. I have some books now to look over, and you and Davy, Prue, can go for a run in the fresh air."

III

EVEN CLOVER BELONGS TO THE PULSE FAMILY

It was on the same evening that Prue and Davy asked for the other story. And of course the Chief Gardener had to tell it, for he had promised, and little Prue, especially, didn't like to put off anything that had been promised. So this is the story that the Chief Gardener told: