Meanwhile, as the kittens were growing, the garden was growing, too. Peggy thought it was strange that small furry things and plants and vegetables should change so much in a few weeks, while children did not seem to change at all.

The garden had been a delight from the very first, for they had found it so interesting to follow old Michael about with the horses, as he ploughed the field at the back of the house and got it ready for planting. It was still more exciting to watch their mother and the old gardener, as they planned where the different crops were to be. Mrs. Owen had made one of her blue frocks, which she wore, and Peggy had on one of hers, and Alice felt sorry not to be in uniform, but she made a nice bit of color in the landscape in a pink frock.

Next came the planting. They helped about this. It was such fun to pat the earth down after the seed had been put in. There were rows and rows of peas, and rows and rows of string-beans and shell-beans, and some corn and turnips and carrots, and, also, a great many tomato plants. Mrs. Owen was going to put up all the peas and beans and tomatoes that Mrs. Horton needed, as well as her jams and jellies. And she was going to put up vegetables, fruit, and berries for Mrs. Carter, also, as she had been too busy getting settled to have any time to start a garden this year. May was a joyous month. The planting was all done, and some bits of green were poking their heads above the ground.

In June Clara came back, and they had her to play with. They saw a great deal of Diana, too, for they made frequent trips to see how Lady Janet was getting on. One day Clara went with them, and she decided she must have Topsy just as soon as she was big enough to leave home. This would leave only two kittens for three children, but Diana said if Lady Jane was to be hers she would let Christopher have Gretchen.

If Peggy and Alice took pleasure in the garden behind the house, this was nothing compared with their delight in what they called the wild garden, on the hill. The strawberries were the first of the berries to be picked. There were not a great many of them, but as Mrs. Horton and Mrs. Carter both wanted wild strawberry preserves, Mrs. Owen thought it best to get what she could from her own land. So one glorious June day she and the children started for the hill, with their luncheon, and pails to pick the berries in. Alice picked as carefully as her mother did, although not so fast; but Peggy put soft berries in with the good ones, and some bits of leaves somehow got in with her berries.

“Peggy, look what you are doing,” said her mother. “Those berries are over-ripe.”

“I don’t see what difference it makes, mother, so long as you are going to make strawberry jam. Oh, mother, look at that squirrel, he gave a skip from one branch to another. See what a bushy tail he has.”

“Peggy, do attend to your work.”

“Mother, you can’t expect me to work all the time on such a sunshiny day. It is just as important to watch squirrels and birds.”

“Well, perhaps it is for you, but not for me. I can’t put up squirrels for my neighbors by the cold-pack process.”

When it came to the preserving of the strawberries, Peggy and Alice were so interested that they went out into the kitchen so as to watch the whole process.

“Children, you mustn’t eat any more of the strawberries,” said their mother. “Remember, I am putting them up for other people.”

“But, mother, you’ve got lots and lots of them,” said Peggy. “I didn’t know we picked so many.”

“I had to buy a great many more to fill my orders,” said Mrs. Owen, “and even now I shan’t have as much wild strawberry preserve as Mrs. Horton and Mrs. Carter wanted; remember the strawberries represent just so much money.”

“But, mother,” said Peggy, “I think it would be so much nicer to keep the strawberry preserve for ourselves than to have the money. We can’t eat that.”

“Children, do keep out of this kitchen.”

“Mother, I don’t see why it is called the ‘cold-pack’ process, when you heat the jars,” said Peggy.

“Oh, do run along, children; you might go down to Diana’s and see how Lady Janet is getting along.”

“She is getting quite big,” said Alice. “Can we bring her home to-day?”

“Not to-day,” said her mother firmly. “I must get this preserving done before she comes.”

Picking raspberries was even more delightful than picking strawberries, because they were bigger, and there were so many more of them; but going for blueberries was the best of all, for there were such quantities of them in the pasture on the hill that one could get quarts and quarts. Indeed, there were so many that Mrs. Owen was glad of extra pickers. She proposed having a picnic and asking Miss Rand and Clara, and Diana and her brothers. Diana was much stronger now, and her father was going to take her to the picnic in his automobile. Mrs. Carter decided she would like to go, too, and so did her brother, who was staying with them for a few days. Diana thought that, next to her father, there was no other man in the whole world so delightful as her Uncle Joe. He was tall and slim and had friendly brown eyes, and such a kind face and merry smile that Peggy and Alice and Clara liked him the first moment they saw him.

The first moment had been the day Clara went for her kitten. He had put the struggling Topsy into the basket in such a nice way, and he talked to her as if she had been a person. “Topsy, you are going to a very good home,” he said. “Miss Rand is one who understands people like you, and so does Clara. You will have the choicest food—lamb and fish, and all that you most desire, and you will be so well fed you will not have to live, like the Chinese, on mice.”

Lady Janet was still living at the Carters’ on account of the preserving, but she was getting so big she was to come to them very soon.

“If we wait until she gets much bigger, she will be running home just as her mother did,” said Peggy.

The day of the picnic was a glorious one. Peggy called it a “blue day” because the sky was so blue. It was a deep blue, and there were great fleecy clouds floating about. The blueberries were the most wonderful blue, two shades, dark and light, with a shimmer to them, and Peggy’s blue frock seemed a part of all the brightness of the day. Alice had on her yellow frock, and Diana was in green, and Clara in pink. It was almost too beautiful a day for them to stop and pick berries, Peggy thought; but that was what they had come for. Mrs. Owen said she would give a pint of preserved blueberries to the boy or girl who picked the first quart, provided they were carefully picked. So every one set to work to pick with a will.

Tom got his pail filled first, but as he was older than the other children, Diana said she thought Peggy ought to have the prize, because she had filled her quart pail almost as soon as Tom had; for Peggy, who was naturally quick, had been so anxious to come out ahead that she had not stopped to look at squirrels and birds. When Mrs. Owen examined the berries, however, she found some that were not ripe in Peggy’s pail. Diana and Alice had both of them picked slowly, but carefully. Christopher had almost as many as Peggy, but his had to be gone over, and some unripe ones taken out. Clara had the fewest and poorest of all. She was not used to applying herself, and very soon she said she was tired and that the sun made her head ache; so Miss Rand said she could go into the little hut and rest. But this did not suit her, for she liked to be with the other children.

“I am going to give the prize to Diana,” said Mrs. Owen, “as Tom won’t take it, for she has picked carefully.”

“Let’s see who has picked the most,” said Peggy, as she examined the pails. “Oh, mother has a lot more than anybody. Mother, you’ll have to keep some for yourself, and Alice and I can help you eat them.”

Miss Rand had a great many, and so had Mrs. Carter, but her brother Joe had the fewest of all the grown people, for he had been building a fire in the hut, so that Mrs. Owen could fry bacon and heat cocoa for dinner.

When they all took a recess in picking and sat down on the piazza of the camp for their dinner, Peggy thought she had never tasted anything so good in her life as the bread and butter and hard-boiled eggs and crisp bacon. For dessert they had saucers of blueberries and cups of cocoa, and some cake and doughnuts, which Mrs. Carter and Mrs. Horton had contributed to the feast.

As they were resting after dinner, Mrs. Carter read a story aloud to them. Then they all picked blueberries again. Diana and Clara soon got tired, and Miss Rand fixed a comfortable place for them to lie down on the window-seats in the hut. Mrs. Owen took some gray blankets out of one of the lockers and covered them up carefully.

At night, when Dr. Carter came for them with the automobile, they had the large pails Mrs. Owen had brought filled with blueberries as well as the quart pails. Peggy had never seen so many blueberries together in her life. The automobile had seats for seven. There were four grown people at the picnic, and Dr. Carter made five. And there were six children.

“I’ll come back for a second load,” Dr. Carter said.

“I’d rather walk,” said their Uncle Joe, “and I am sure the boys would.”

“We’ll go down by the short cut,” said Tom.

“All right. I can stow the rest of you in.”

The three ladies got in on the back seat, Diana was in front with her father, and Alice and Clara were in the side seats.

“Peggy, we can make room for you in front,” said Dr. Carter.

But Peggy had no idea of missing that walk down the hill with the boys and their Uncle Joe. “I’d rather walk,” she said.

“Jump in, Peggy,” said her mother, “you must be very tired.”

“I’m not a bit tired, truly I’m not, mother. I’ve been so tied down all day picking berries, I’m just crazy for a run.”

“Let the young colt have a scamper,” said Dr. Carter; “it will do her good.”

As Peggy danced along down the hillside, she thought how fortunate Diana was to have a father and an uncle and two brothers. She raced down the hill with Christopher while Tom and his uncle followed at their heels.

“There, I have beaten you, Christopher,” said Peggy, breathlessly, as she sank down on a rock at the bottom of the hill.

“I could have beaten you if I had tried,” said Christopher.

“Then why didn’t you?”

“Well, I thought, as you were a girl and younger, I’d let you get a start, and I expected to pass you.”

“Oh, dear, I am tired of being a girl. Just let’s play I’m a boy. You can call me Peter.”

“I don’t want to play you are a boy. I like you better the way you are,” Christopher said, as he glanced at her blue frock.

“Yes, Peggy,” said Uncle Joe, “we all like you better the way you are.”

“Well, I suppose I’ll have to be a girl and make the best of it. But I do wish I had men and boys in my family.”

“You might adopt us,” said Uncle Joe. “I would like you and Alice for nieces. A lot of children I’m no relation to call me ‘Uncle Joe,’ and I’m sure the boys would like you and Alice for cousins.”

“You bet we would,” said Christopher.

So Peggy came back from the picnic a much richer little girl than she had been when she went to it. “Alice,” she said, as she burst into the house, “Mr. Beal says we can call him ‘Uncle Joe,’ and we can play that Tom and Christopher are our cousins.”

“I’d like to call him ‘Uncle Joe,’” said Alice, “for he was so nice about Topsy, but I don’t want the boys for my cousins.”