50 Hardy Plants for Cottage Gardens 
until the heat made by the fresh manure had subsided. I 
found it hard to wait those few days, particularly when con- 
siderable snow fell, and my operations seemed to be deferred 
indefinitely. 
The first day the sun shone forth, I decided to risk an en- 
counter with Adam, and started out with a shovel, a broom, 
several boards, newspapers, my basket of seeds, markers and 
a pencil. It is true I wore a hood, heavy winter coat, arctic 
overshoes and leggings as if starting on a polar expedition. 
Adam spied me as I was loading my plunder in the wheel- 
barrow. “Where are you going, Ipse?” 
“Pm going a-planting, sir, she said,’” I sang out 
gaily. 
I have learned that a bold front has great weight with 
Adam, and when about to do something that is sure to call 
forth a word of remonstrance, I assume the attitude of being 
predestined from the beginning of the world to perform just 
that identical act. I do not know whether it is Adam’s re- 
spect for fore-ordination or my determination that carries the 
day—but I seldom lose. 
“Tpse, you must not; the snow is six inches deep where you 
intend to work, and it is still winter,” he pleaded. 
“It depends on where you look,” said I. “It is summer 
overhead, and spring is overdue at least two weeks by the 
calendar.” 
“You will gain nothing,” continued he. “It is too early; 
wait until next week.” 
“Manana is not my policy, Adam,” said I firmly, “don’t 
oppose me. You know IJ always yield to your advice. These 
seeds ought to have been planted a month ago. What is the 
use of a hotbed if you wait until it is warm enough to plant 
anywhere outside? I’m going to shovel away the snow from 
the front of the frame, sweep the ground clean, lay down these 
