They were sitting on the back porch, pasting their scrap-books, and Mrs. Leslie was sewing at the window.
“Never mind, Johnny,” she said, consolingly, “you’ll not ‘die with all your music in you’ while you do so much shouting.”
“Very well, then,” said Tiny, with a look of great satisfaction, “when Jim comes, I shall tell him that if he will dig my garden for me, I will teach him to sing.”
Mrs. Leslie expected to hear Johnny first laugh, and then try to dissuade Tiny from carrying out her plan, but to her surprise, he did neither. He said,—
“I shouldn’t wonder if he’d do it, Tiny; he’s all the time whistling, and he whistles just like a blackbird, so very likely he’ll be glad to learn to sing, too.”
When Jim came that evening, Tiny and Johnny were both in the garden, and as Tiny had not yet met Jim, Johnny introduced them thus,—
“Tiny, this is Jim. Jim, this is my sister Tiny, and she wants to be in our bargain, too. Go ahead, Tiny.”
“I have a garden, too,” she said, “but Johnny knows more of everything than I do, except singing, and I thought perhaps you’d like to learn to sing, and if you would, I’ll teach you that, and then, if you think it is worth it, will you just do the hard digging for me? I can do the rest myself, watching you and Johnny.”
A very gentle look came over Jim’s bold face, as he answered,—
“If you’ll teach me how to sing, Miss Tiny, it will be worth as much to me as all Johnny can teach me of other things, and I’ll be proud and happy to take charge of your garden.”
“Oh, thank you very much!” said Tiny, warmly. “What a nice, kind boy you are! Do you mind if I watch you while you dig?”
“Not a bit!” said Jim, cheerfully, “I’m not bashful. But you’d better sit down.”
“Wait a minute, and I’ll bring you your camp-chair, Tiny,” said Johnny, and he raced to the porch for Tiny’s small chair, while Jim pulled off the coat which he had put on as a mark of respect to Mrs. Leslie, whom he hoped to see before the evening was over, and went valiantly to work with the spade.
“What nice big spadefuls you make!” Tiny said, after watching him a while. “When I dig, it ’most all slides off while I am picking up the spade.”
“That’s because you are not quite so strong as I am,” said Jim, smiling, and turning over an extra large spadeful by way of proving his statement.