"The moon is up, the moon is up!
The larks begin to fly,
And, like a drowsy buttercup,
Dark Phoebus skims the sky,
The elephant with cheerful voice,
Sings blithely on the spray;
The bats and beetles all rejoice,
Then let me, too, be gay."
CHAPTER X
THE U.S.C. AND THE COMMUNITY
Roger's interest in gardening had extended far beyond fertilizers and
sweetpeas. It was not long after the discussion in which the Mortons'
garden had been planned on paper that he happened to mention to the
master of the high school, Mr. Wheeler, what the Club was intending to
do. Mr. Wheeler had learned to value the enthusiasm and persistency of
the U.S.C. members and it did not take him long to decide that he wanted
their assistance in putting through a piece of work that would be both
pleasant and profitable for the whole community.
"It seems queer that here in Rosemont where we are on the very edge of
the country there should be any people who do not have gardens," he said
to Roger.
"There are, though," responded Roger. "I was walking down by the station
the other day where those shanties are that the mill hands live in and I
noticed that not one of them had space for more than a plant or two and
they seemed to be so discouraged at the prospect that even the plant or
two wasn't there.
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