56 THE GARDEN OF A 



sions, coming by father's directions to be our 

 "gardener." He lived with us eight years before 

 his duties as an American citizen led him to seek 

 the more elevated position offered by a shoeshop. 



When father told us Peter Schmidt's history, 

 Aunt Lot was stirred with practical pity, and, 

 always eager for any occupation that implied 

 house-cleaning, giving advice, or regulating other 

 people's affairs, instantly began to overturn the 

 attic for old furniture and such garments of ours 

 as might have escaped the general demand of those 

 who, coming to the hospital in rags, had even less 

 to wear on leaving. 



In a couple of days the living-rooms over the 

 stable were resplendent, owing to a combination of 

 energy on the part of the Schmidt family themselves 

 in whitewashing, scrubbing, and window-washing, in 

 which even the small boy joined, the girls giving 

 deep-drawn " oh's " and " ah's " of admiration. 

 While the following Christmas the whole family 

 came into the hall before breakfast to give us the 

 season's greeting, each laden with a fat wreath made 

 of ground pine, that they had walked two miles to 

 the woods to gather, giving them as tokens of thank- 

 fulness that " we now hass a home," as Mrs. Schmidt 

 said through tears that told of dark days. 



