36 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 



room was a small closet in our wood-shed. Since my hus- 

 band's death it had hardly been entered. Opening the door 

 I found everything in the most perfect order, just as he had 

 left it the day he was killed. The sight made me sad 

 enough, but I had work to do, and must brush back the 

 tears, and give my mind to the duty nearest me. Seeing 

 things in such good condition, I then and there resolved it 

 should always be so. Neatness and order should reign in 

 my garden and work-shop, as in my own chamber. I 

 always clung to this resolve, and to it I owe a large measure 

 of my after success. On examining the tools, I found I was 

 the possessor of two spades, a shovel, two hoes, an iron and 

 a wooden rake, and a garden line and reel, for marking out 

 beds. In one corner was a wheelbarrow, and in another a 

 pile of flower-pots of all sizes, neatly sorted and piled up in 

 rows. These I was glad to see ; perhaps I should want 

 them by and by, if I should attempt tuberoses in pots. On 

 a shelf overhead I discovered a small watering-pot, a trowel, 

 and sundry papers of seeds. In a small box on the floor I 

 found a variety of carpenter's tools. Seeing a rule among 

 them, I took it out, and, going to the pile of pots, I took up 

 one and measured the side of it from top to bottom ; then 

 another and another, but they seemed to be of all sorts and 

 sizes. Then I measured one across the top. Ah, that is 

 it ! A seven-inch pot is a pot that measures seven inches 

 from side to side, over the top. In this lame and round- 

 about way did I discover what a seven or eight inch pot 



