In a Garden 119

The little elf looked quite happy, but
whether they would have always remembered,
if something else had not happened, I don't
know. The something else had to do with
one of the gardeners who came down the
next morning with Dick. He was a young
man, broad-shouldered, with short-sighted
eyes which spied out everything, and an
enthusiasm for his work; and he was the
one Dick liked best of all, because he had
some ideas beyond only making things quite
smooth and tidy.

“Vou aren't going to clear away much,
Lewis, are you?” asked Dick.

“No, sir, nothing. Only goin’ to tie up a
plant or two because the rain has beat ‘em
down so.” And to the great relief of the
harvest mouse he did not so much as glance
where the thistle had uplifted itself once
more.

But in a moment or two he came to a
halt.

“Never saw Love-in-a-mist open so early
in the year before,” he said, stooping to look.