A DAY’S HARD WORK 
39 
transformed from a young gardener to a small gen- 
tleman. 
“The trellis is built,” he said while we were at 
dinner, “the sweet peas are planted, the shrubs are 
set, the old place has been cleaned up, and some 
seeds have been sown in the window-boxes. It is 
only the twentieth of March and, as the wrens have 
not yet finished building their nest, I think we are 
keeping up with them pretty well.” 
Almost before Little Joseph had finished speak- 
ing, and long before he was through with his din- 
ner, I noticed that his q^elids slipped down often 
over his eyes. His work in the open had caused 
the “sandman” to come unusually early. “An Am- 
bitious Boy’s Garden” was not even opened after 
dinner, and, as our Aunt Amanda would have said, 
he slept without rocking. 
