WHAT iVAS DONE WITH IT, 5 



CHAPTER 11. 



UJBAT mA$ Done ojitb it. 



HEN the snows of March melted away, 

 the garden came into sight. The former 

 tenant had apparently regarded the 

 garden as the proper place to deposit 

 the waste of a generation. Bones, clam- 

 shells, rejected shoes and cans, were 

 plentiful. Added to this, it had not 

 been dug over since the last crop, and corn-stubble 

 covered half the space. The carpenters at work on 

 the house had tramped the soil down hard, and in 

 a corner under the trees were the remains of count- 

 less weeds nipped by last year's frost. 



A very slight examination showed that the soil had 

 one great merit. It was strong. A mass of rocks, 

 weathered by the storms of a iiundred years, and 

 grey with moss, had sent down their fertilizing dust, 

 and the tall trees had every year carpeted the place 

 with their leaves. There had also been hens and pigs 

 on the place, and these, too, had done what they 

 could to contribute to the future crops. Rumor also 

 had it that in the previous year it had been heavily 

 manured, and had borne a large crop of corn and 

 beans. Here was the problem. The place measured 

 about eighty feet on one street, and seventy-five on 

 another. The house stood just south of the center, 

 near the street. A rocky cliff behind the house, while 

 very picturesque, was, of course, valueless for any 

 purpose, being too steep for a foothold, and too bare 

 to produce anything save mosses and lichens. What 

 could we do with it. The most simple way to treat 



