Wisconsin Herald, And Grant County Advertiser

A Tale Horticultural.

I always took great pleasure in having a neat garden. I felt larger than common if I succeeded in raising cucumbers and other vegetables earlier than my neighbors; as if Nature favored me especially. I had the earliest and best kinds of fruits. But I was greatly perplexed for a long time with thieving boys. Almost every night in the season of fruit, my garden was visited, trees damaged, and rich flowers trampled down. I tried various ways to protect my grounds—had watch dogs, but they were shot or poisoned—set traps, but they never caught anything except now and then one of my own cats. As John Hobbs says:

'Traps, every one knows is no safe guard to apples,
Big dogs seldom bite one, and guns never shoot;
The chivalrous school boy each obstacle grapples,
And never desists till he pockets the fruit.'

Finally I built a wall of solid mason work about my garden such as the Catholics have about their nunneries; but that did not answer. It was only by accident that I found out the way to save one's fruit; and noticing in the papers divers cautions to young rogues—I think it worth while to publish somewhat of my experience.

I have come to the conclusion that boys are as much influenced by malice as by a love of good eating in such thieving. If they know a man to be close fisted, they will wrench open his fingers in some way. When I was a Freshman at the University, people about the college complained very much of their fruit being stolen by the students; and only one man escaped—and he was the only one who sent a cart load of excellent apples and distributed them among the college students.

I might have known, if I had tho't of my own boyhood, that the way to manage boys is, to treat them kindly. They have a natural code of honor which forbids them to do him an injury who shows a regard for them. It is no compliment to a man that boys love to vex him. It is a pretty true sign that they have not any soul to speak of.

'What do you say Jo? Shall we come the grab over them melons to-night? It's going to be as dark as thunder. Old Swipes will be snoring like ten men before midnight.'

'I should like the melons well enough, but we have to get over that pesky wall, and—'

'Oh, pshaw, Jo! I know a place where it's easy getting over, I know the way like a book. Come, Jo! will you go it?'

Now, I dislike extremely to be an eaves-dropper, and usually convey myself elsewhere rather than allow my ears to be a highway for words not intended for me. But the above conversation so intimately concerned me and my melons, which I had taken some pains to raise, that I kept quiet and listened to the whole plan of the young scape graces—so that I might make it somewhat bothersome for them.

Ned proposed to get over the wall on the south side by the great pear tree, and cut directly across to the summer house—just north of which were the melons.

Jo was a clever, thick lipped fellow loved good fruit exceedingly, that is to say, as well as he did to lounge in open summer time in a sunny place, and smoke cigars—and obstinate as an ass. Get him once started to do a thing and he would stick to it like a mud-turtle to a negro boy's toe, in spite of kicks or what not, till he had accomplished it. The other was a fiery daredevil—did'nt care so much for the melons or for the real fun of getting them.

I made all needful preparations for the visit; put on brads, pretty thick, in the scantling along the wall where they intended to get over; uncovered a large water vat that had been filled for some time from which in dry weather I was accustomed to water my garden; dug a trench a foot deep or so, and placed slender boards over it, which were covered with dirt, and just beyond them some little cords fastened tightly—some eight inches from the ground. I picked all the melons I cared to preserve, leaving pumpkins and squashes about the size and shape of melons in their places.

They were right in supposing that it would be dark; but missed it a little in supposing that 'old Swipes, as they called me, would be a-bed, though.—The old man loves fun as well as they: and a little sprinkling of grey hairs has not altogether sobered him. I have the honor of being like Washington, in one respect, I can laugh as hearty as any mortal man. I believe, I can roll in a perfect ecstasy; but as an old negro said of our country's Father—'he did all his laughing inside,' so do I. One would think old Swipes in his last agonies to see him in a fit of his silent laughter. I expect I am somewhat unfortunate in being permitted to have enjoyment of this sort, without hanging out the sign as others do. for I am an old bachelor, and am disposed to believe, that if I had had a little more india rubbery phiz, I should have been married some forty times before this: I mean, I should have had so many opportunities or more—as it is. Ichabod Swipes, Esq., with a flourishing business, an elegant establishment, and some ten thousand dollars ready money never had decided nibble in the pond matrimonial. What else could be the reason I could not imagine, for, truly, I am not a bad specimen of human nature: and the best tailors always did me up in the best fitting garments; perhaps though they made them fit too well. for I believe I am a little round shouldered and a little bow legged withal, oh well, never mind! Let the girls go their way! But—

'Whist Jo! Did'nt you just hear something?'

I think very probable they did; for the words were hardly out of his mouth, when there was a sound as of forcibly tearing fustian.

'Get off my coat tail,' whispered Jo!-'By golly? there goes one flap as Why, get off, Ned'—and Ned was off—and one leg of his breeches too, nearly, as I supposed, for he was on the ground ah-ing and oh-ing, and between whiles telling Jo he believed there were nails in the side of the walls, or something had scratched him tremendously, and had torn his breeches all to pieces. Jo sympathised with him, for he said half of his coat was hanging up there somewhere.

The boys were more in earnest than ever, thinking that I had driven nails there on purpose to scratch people and their clothes.

'The old close-fisted bloat begrudges to people a little fruit.'

They started on, hand in hand; for Ned believed he knew the way. They had gotten beyond the trees a little, when something went swash! swash! into the water vat. 'Gosh!' was the first exclamation I heard after that. and coughing and sneezing as though some one had got the horse distemper—and then—

'By-thun—thunder! That water smells rather old.'

Ned was a little disposed to cut dirt for home, but the other puppy-to-a-liveness' was too much excited to listen to any such proposition.

They concluded to stop a little time and listen for fear they had roused some one by their floundering in the water—and be drained of their extra moisture somewhat. I thought I should burst forth in a roar of laughter as I listened to their whispered surprise—and at the sudden revelation of a cistern of water being there.

'Never heard anything about it before; how odd that we should both tumble into it so.'

'The old people must have fixed it on purpose to drown people in.'

They concluded they had not been heard, and shortly pushed on again for the melons. They presently perceived there was something unstable about the ground they were cautiously passing over. They whispered to each other what I could not distinctly hear—something about traps, and started to run to get beyond this suspicious footing. Both were caught by the cords, and headlong they went into a heap of briers and thistles and the like.

'Such a gettin' up stairs!' muttered one.

'Nettles and thistles—by Jemima Scotts—how they prick!'

They then determined to go on more cautiously.

'How thick they are Jo! Come here There's more than a dozen fat ones right here!'

Down they sat in the midst of them and seemed to conclude they had gotten pay for their mishaps.

'Here, Jo, take this muskmelon.—Is'nt it a lunker! Slash into it.'

'It cuts tremendous hard. Jim. It's a new kind. Old Swipes sent to Rhode Island for the seed.'

'Well, the old chap got sucked in, that's all.'

'Here, let me gouge into this water-melon—there goes half a dollar: I've broke my knife.'

'If I did'nt know it was a water-melon I should say it was a pumpkin.'

What further they did, while I went to the stable and unmuzzled the dog, and led him into the garden, I cannot say. That they took long steps, the onion beds, and flower plants revealed in the morning.

I thought that the boys, on the whole, must conclude that they had paid dear for their whistle, for they had not tasted of a melon, got scratched, clothes torn, were wet as drowned rats, and pretty essentially frightened—so the next morning I sent invitations to all the young people in the village to a feast of melons in the evening—particularly to Ned and Jo—on the principle of returning good for evil—thinking possibly it might be useful in the treatment of boys as well as men. My rooms were crowded betimes with a bright-eyed company: rather shy, though—Old Swipes looked so confounded sour, I suppose. They would not have come, I presume, had it not been that my nephew, a great favorite with them, was spending the summer with me; for they obviously disliked me, and I don't know why they should do otherwise, for I had never noticed them, or appeared towards them as though they were worth noticing.

I went to my study, and soon such a whirlwind of fun as they raised. It was rich music—their silvery laughter.

I was well paid for what expense and trouble I had been at, in raising the largest, best melons, by the rich sound of their hilarious voices. It brought before me the sunny days of my youth and its loved associations. Glorious days! I love to think of them.

My melons were never disturbed again.

The Recipe.—Don't be harsh to boys. Treat them as though they were going to be men, honest and true presently. Meet them with fun, and don't forget them when your ripest fruit is ripe. Newspaper paragraphs, dogs, traps, and frowns, are not half so potent for preserving apples and the like, as kindness.