MAKING A COMPOST HEAP 251 



for my garden, and that you were going to show me 

 just how it ought to be made but she won't!" 

 finished the president of the Horticultural Club, 

 disconsolately. 



Mr. Trommel looked grave. "And the Herr 

 Papa f " he asked solicitously. 



"Oh, he says just what mother says, of course. 

 You know how it is," explained Mary. "When you 

 want to do some things it 's better to ask your 

 father, and when you want to do other things it 's 

 better to ask your mother 5 because if your father 

 says 'yes,' why, mother says 'very well, then,' when, 

 if you 'd asked her first, she might have said 'no.' 

 Perhaps I 'd better have asked father about the 

 compost heap," sighed the president, regretfully ; 

 "but it 's too late now." 



"You will be a philosopher, little one. But never 

 mind ; the lady mama is an excellent lady, but she 

 is not a gardener : we cannot expect that she should 

 understand. 



"I tell you," he said after a moment, looking at 

 his assistant's clouded face ; "you shall make a com- 

 post heap at the foot of my garden ; there is space 

 enough. Then, when you wish the fertilizer, you shall 

 take it over in the little wheelbarrow. How is that? " 



