II. MR. PRAWLEY'S GARDEN
ISOBEL was brighter at dinner than she had been for some days. Sheseemed quite contented, now that the imaginary Prawleys had moved intothe attic. She said no more about them, and when I had finished mydinner I put on my gardening togs and went out to garden awhile beforedark. Blisters are certainly most painful after a day of rest, and I didnot work long. I was almost in despair about the garden. Fully half hadnot been touched, and what I had already done looked ragged and as if itneeded doing over again. The more I dug, the more great chunks of sodI found buried in it, and it seemed as if my garden, when I had dug outall the chunks of sod, would be a pit instead of a level. It threatenedto be a sunken garden.
"Isobel," I said angrily, when the sun had set and I was once moresitting in the chair on my veranda, with my hands wrapped in wethandkerchiefs, "you know how passionately fond of gardening I am, andhow I longed and pined for a garden for two full years, and you know,therefore, that it takes a great deal of gardening to satisfy me; but Imust say that the man who laid out that garden must have been a manof shameful leisure. He laid out a garden twice as large as any gardenshould be."
"Then why do you try to work it all?" she asked.
"Oh, work it!" I exclaimed with some irritation. "I can't let half agarden go to weeds! That would look nice, wouldn't it! I'll work it allright! You don't care how I suffer and struggle. You sit here--"
The next evening when I reached home
I did not feel particularly happy. My hands were quite raw, and my backhad sharp pains and was stiff, and I spoke gruffly to Millington when hesuggested an automobile ride to Port Lafayette for that evening.
"No!" I said shortly. "You ought to know I can't go. I've got to killmyself in that garden!"
But I was resolved Isobel should never see me conquered by a patchof ground, and after dinner I went out with my spade and hoe. When myglance fell on the garden I stopped short. I was very angry.
"Isobel?" I called sharply.
She came tripping around the house and to my side.
"Who did that?" I asked severely. I was in no mood for nonsense.
She looked at the garden. One half of it--not the half I had struggledwith, but the other 'half--had been spaded, crushed, ridged, planted,and left in perfect condition. The small cabbage plants had beencarefully watered. Not a grain of earth was larger than a pin head. Nota blade of grass stuck up anywhere. Isobel looked at the garden, andthen at me.
"I warned him!" she said. "I warned him you would be angry when you camehome! I told him you wanted to garden that half of the garden, too, andthat you would probably go right up and give him a piece of your mind,but he insisted that he had a right to half the garden, and--"
"_Who_ insisted that he had a right to half my garden?" I demanded.
"Why," said Isobel, as if surprised at the question, "Mr. Prawley did."
"Prawley? Prawley? I don't know any Prawley!"
"Don't you know the Prawleys that moved into the flat above us?" saidIsobel. "And he is a very nice man, too," she continued. "He was not atall rude. He merely insisted, in a quiet way, that as he was a tenantand as there was only one back garden, and two families in the house, hewas entitled to half the garden."
She did not give me a chance to speak, but ran on in that vein, whileI stood and looked at the garden and, among other things, thought of myblistered hands and my lame back.
"Well and good, Isobel," I said at length. "I do not wish to haveanything to say to the Prawleys, nor do I wish to quarrel with them, andsince he demands half the garden you may tell him he is welcome to it.I cannot conceal that in taking half of it away from me he has robbedme of just that much passionate happiness, and you may tell him I do notlike the way he gardens, but I will say no more about it!"
"Oh, you dear old John!" said Isobel. "And now you shall not touch thatmiserable garden with your poor sore hands. You shall just sit on theveranda with me and let me bathe your palms with witch hazel." AlthoughI assumed an air of sternness in speaking to Isobel of Mr. Prawley Iwas glad to be able to humour her, for she seemed so much happier afterbeginning to pretend that the Prawley family occupied the attic of ourhouse. Giving in to these harmless little whims of our wives does muchto make life pleasanter for them--and for us--and as long as Mr. Prawleyleft me my own half of the garden I could not be discontented. One halfof that garden was really all a man should attempt to garden, no matterhow passionately fond of gardening he might be.
It is fine to be the owner of a bit of soil and to feel the joy ofpossession, but it is still more delightful to be able to see one'sown garden truck springing into life after one has dug and planted andweeded and cultivated with one's own hands. I had no greater desire inlife than to devote all my spare time to my garden, but a man must givehis health some attention, and Isobel pointed out that if I gardened butone half of the garden I would have time to ride to Port Lafayette withMillington in his automobile now and then, and as Port Lafayette is onthe salt water the air would be good for me.
Port Lafayette is about eleven miles from Westcote, and I had oftenwished to go to Port Lafayette, but Millington is absurdly jealous. Ofcourse, I could have taken Isobel by train in about one half hour, orI could walk it in two or three hours, or drive there in an hour; butI knew that would hurt Millington's feelings. He would take it as aninsult to his automobile.
But now I told Isobel that as soon as my garden got into reasonableshape we would go to Port Lafayette with Millington. Isobel told methat my health was more important than radishes, and reasoned that a fewweeds in a garden were not a bad thing. Weeds, she said, grow rapidly,while vegetables are modest and retiring things, and she considered thata few weeds in my half of the garden might set a good example to thevegetables.
Mr. Prawley evidently held a different view, for he did not allow asingle weed to raise its head in his half of the garden, and I toldIsobel, rather sharply, that his idea was the right one, and that Ishould weed my garden every evening until there was not a weed in it.
"But, John," she said, "I have never ridden in an automobile, and itwould be a great treat for me."
"No doubt," I groaned--I was weeding in my garden at the moment--"but,treat or no treat, I am not going to have this half of the garden looklike a forest."
"I know you enjoy it," she began, but I silenced her.
"I am passionately fond of gardening," I said, "and I have told you so amillion times. Now will you leave me alone to enjoy it, or won't you?"
She went into the house and left me enjoying it alone.
The very next evening, when I looked into my half of the garden, I foundit weeded and put into the best of shape, and when I hunted up Isobel,angry indeed at having so much pleasure taken from me, she did not darelook me in the eye.
"Isobel," I said sharply, "what is the meaning of this?"
"John," she said meekly, "I am afraid I am to blame. You know Mr.Prawley does not like automobile riding--"
"I know nothing of the kind, Isobel," I said. "I know I am passionatelyfond of gardening, and that some one has robbed me of the pleasure Ihave looked forward to for years: the joy of weeding my own garden on myown land."
"Mr. Prawley does not like automobile riding," continued Isobel, "andhe came to me this morning and told me his health was so poor that hisdoctor had told him nothing but gardening could save his life. When heshowed the garden to his doctor, the doctor told him he was not gettinghalf enough gardening--that he must garden twice as much. I told Mr.Prawley he could not have your half of the garden, because you werepassionately fond of it--"
"True, Isobel!" I said, rubbing my back at the lamest spot.
"But he begged on his knees, saying that while it was only a pleasurefor you, it was life and health for him, and when his wife wept, I hadnot the heart to refuse. He said he would make a fair exchange, and thatas he was an anti-vegetarian you could have all the vegetables that grewin your own half, and all that grew in his, too."
"Isobel," I sai
d, taking her hand, "this is a great, greatdisappointment to me. It robs me of a pleasure of which I may say Iam passionately fond, but I cannot disown a contract made by my littlewife. Mr. Prawley may garden my half of the garden."
I must admit that the Prawleys were ideal tenants. Not a sound came fromhis floor of the house. Indeed, I did not see him nor his family atall. But during my days in town he and Isobel seemed to have manyconversations, and she was so tender-hearted and easily moved that oneby one she let Mr. Prawley take all the outdoor work of which I mayrightly claim to be passion--to be exceedingly fond.
Mowing the lawn is one of the things in which I delight. I ardently lovepushing the lawn mower, and if, occasionally, I allowed the grass togrow rather long, it was only because I was saving the pleasure ofcutting it, as a child saves the icing of its cake for the last sweetbite. I remember remarking, quite in joke, one morning, that theconfounded lawn needed mowing again, and that the grass seemed to donothing but grow, and that I'd probably have to break my back over itwhen I got home that evening. But when I reached home that evening Isuspected that Isobel must have taken my little joke as earnest, for thelawn was nicely mown and the edges trimmed. It seemed, when I questionedIsobel, that Mr. Prawley's doctor was not satisfied with his progressand had assured him that lawn mowing was necessary for his completerecovery. Thus Isobel allowed Mr. Prawley to usurp another of mypleasures.
So, one by one, the outdoor tasks of which I am so passionatelyfond were wrested from me. I allowed them to go because I thought itnecessary to humour Isobel in her pretence that some family occupieda flat above us, and all seemed well; and we were ready to go to PortLafayette in Mr. Millington's automobile whenever it was ready to takeus, when one day in June I happened to notice that our grass was gettingunusually long and untidy.
"Isobel," I said, "I have humoured Mr. Prawley, abandoning to him allthe outdoor chores of which I am so passionately fond, but if he is todo this lawn I want him to do it, and not neglect it shamefully. I willnot have it looking like this!"
"But, John--" she began.
"I tell you, Isobel," I said, with rising anger, "I won't have it!I'll stand a good deal, but when I have robbed myself of my greatestpleasure, and then see the other man neglecting it, I rebel. If thisgoes on I'll forget that Mr. Prawley has bad health. I'll enjoy cuttingthe lawn myself!"
"John," said Isobel, throwing her arms about my neck, "you will be soglad! I have good news to tell you! The Prawleys have moved away! Nowyou can do all your own hoeing and mowing."
"The Prawleys have moved away?" I gasped.
"Yes," she said cheerfully, "and now you can garden all the garden, andcut all the lawn and rake all the walks, and weed, and do all the thingsyou are so fond of doing."
"Isobel," I said sternly, "if I thought only of myself I would indeed beglad. But I cannot have my little wife fearing the empty flat above her.You must immediately hire another--er--get another family."
"But I shall not be nervous any more, John," she said; "and it is ashame to deprive you of the outdoor work."
I looked out upon the large lawn and the large garden.
"No, Isobel," I said, "you must take no chances. You may not think youwill be nervous, but the feeling may return. If you do not get a familyto move in, I shall!"
I rubbed the palms of my hands where the blisters had been, and thoughtof the middle of my back where the pains and aches had congregated. Iwas ready to sacrifice my passionate longing for outdoor work once morefor Isobel's sake.
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"Well," she said thoughtfully, "I know of an excellent coloured man inLower Westcote, that we can hire by the day--I mean that we can get tomove into the flat--but I can hardly afford, with my present allowance,to pay his wages--that is, I mean--"
"For some time, Isobel," I said hastily, "I have been thinking yourallowance was too small. You must have a--a great many householdexpenses of which I know nothing."
"I have," she said simply.
That evening when I returned from the city I saw that the lawn grasshad been cut so closely that it looked as if the lawn had been shaved.Isobel ran to meet me.
"John!" she cried; "John! Who do you think has moved into the flatoverhead?"
"Dear me!" I exclaimed. "How should I know?"
"The Prawleys!" she cried. "The Prawleys have moved back again. Are younot glad?"
I concealed my chagrin. I hid the sorrow with which I saw my passionatefondness for outdoor work once more defeated of its object.
"Isobel," I said, "I wish you would tell Mr. Prawley's doctor to tellMr. Prawley that it is imperative for Mr. Prawley's best health that Mr.Prawley dig the grass out of the gravel walks to-morrow. Tell him--"
"I told him this evening to do the walks the first thing in themorning," said Isobel innocently, "and when he has done them I am goingto have him help Mary wash the windows."
The Adventures of a Suburbanite Page 2