perpetual reminder of plebeian great-grand-paternity, I consented to it
rather than lose my seeds. Then I folded my hands in sweet, though calm
satisfaction. I had proved myself equal to the emergency, and that
always diffuses a glow of genial complacency through the soul. I had
outwitted Halicarnassus. Exultation number two. He had designed to cheat
me out of my garden by a story about land, and here was my garden ready
to burst forth into blossom under my eyes. He said little, but I knew
he felt deeply. I caught him one day looking out at my window with
corroding envy in every lineament. "You might have got some dust out of
the road; it would have been nearer." That was all he said. Even that
little I did not fully understand.

I watched, and waited, and watered, in silent expectancy, for several
days, but nothing came up, and I began to be anxious. Suddenly I thought
of my vegetable-seeds, and determined to try those. Of course a hanging
kitchen-garden was not to be thought of, and as Halicarnassus was
fortunately absent for a few days, I prospected on the farm. A sunny
little corner on a southern slope smiled up at me, and seemed to offer
itself as a delightful situation for the diminutive garden which mine
must be. The soil, too, seemed as fine and mellow as could be desired.
I at once captured an Englishman from a neighboring plantation, hurried
him into my corner, and bade him dig me and hoe me and plant me a garden
as soon as possible. He looked blankly at me for a moment, and I looked
blankly at him,--wondering what lion he saw in the way.

"Them is planted with potatoes now," he gasped, at length.

"No matter," I returned, with sudden relief to find that nothing but
potatoes interfered. "I want it to be unplanted, and planted with
vegetables,--lettuce and--asparagus--and such."