CHAPTER X 
FINDING FERNS TO TRANSPLANT 
F or three days in succession now, we have been 
on long tramps in the woods. This is because 
Mr. Hayden’s son Percy is home for the Easter hol- 
idays and seems to find more pleasure walking about 
the woods than he does in his father’s gardens. 
The fact that he was coming shortly is the great 
secret Mr. Hayden had up his sleeve. Joseph and 
I call this son “Mr. Percy,” for when we say “Mr. 
Hayden” we mean the father. He has taken a 
great fancy to Little Joseph, but insists that I go 
with them on their tramps. He knows a great 
deal about ferns and flowers, but not in an impor- 
tant, book-like way. Some people always speak 
about flowers as if they were reading in a cata- 
logue. 
“Why, here are fiddleheads,” he said the first 
day we went into the woods together. 
We looked, and saw a number of green, stick- 
like things with curled-over ends standing up in a 
clump together. They were covered with a thick 
white wool that probably kept them warm in these 
