Margery was
delighted. And the very first thing she
said, when her father told her about it,
was, "Oh, may I have a garden? MAY
I have a garden?"
Margery's mother was almost as eager
for a garden as she was, and Margery's
father said he expected to live on their
vegetables all the rest of his life! So it was
soon agreed that the garden should be the
first thing attended to.
Behind the little house were apple trees,
a plum tree, and two or three pear trees;
then came a stretch of rough grass, and
then a stone wall, with a gate leading into
the pasture. It was in the grassy land that
the garden was to be. A big piece was to be
used for corn and peas and beans, and a
little piece at the end was to be saved for
Margery.
"What shall we have in it?" asked her
mother.
"Flowers," said Margery, with shining
eyes,--"blue, and white, and yellow, and
pink,--every kind of flower!"
"Surely, flowers," said her mother,
"and shall we not have a little salad garden
in the midst, as they do in England?"
"What is a salad garden?" Margery asked.
"It is a garden where you have all the
things that make nice salad," said her
mother, laughing, for Margery was fond of
salads; "you have lettuce, and endive, and
romaine, and parsley, and radishes, and
cucumbers, and perhaps little beets and
young onions.
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