Uncle Roberts Geography | Page 6

it was when I was a boy on the farm
in New England."
"This is the way father did it," said Frank. "First he cut a little piece of
the bark off the twig with the bud on it. He had to do it very carefully
with a sharp knife. Then he cut the bark on the branch of the tree like
the letter T. He laid it back, and slipped the piece of bark with the bud
on under it. Then he bound it all up with soft cotton, and left it to take
care of itself."
"Did it?" asked Uncle Robert.
"Yes," answered Donald. "In a few weeks we took the binding off, and
the bark had all grown together around the little bud."
[Illustration: Budding]
"There were ever so many of them," said Susie, "and they were all

alike."
"I wish they would hurry up and have some apples on them," said
Donald. "If they're better than some we had last year, they'll be pretty
good.
"Come, children," said Mrs. Leonard. "It is getting damp. I think we'd
better go in now."


CHAPTER II.
FRANK DRAWS A MAP OF THE FARM.
After the lamps were lighted and they were all gathered in the
sitting-room Uncle Robert began asking the children about the farm.
"What do you raise besides corn?" he asked.
"Wheat, oats, rye, and potatoes," said Frank. "Then we have the hay
fields and the pasture. The woods we drove through coming from town
belong to us too."
"The house faces east, doesn't it?" said Uncle Robert. "That would
make the woods north. Where are all these other fields?"
"Back of the barn and the other side of the orchard," said Donald.
"Can't some one show me on paper how it is?" asked Uncle Robert. "I
don't mean make a picture, but just a plan of it."
"Well, I can try," said Frank. "I know just how it is really, but I don't
know that I can get it right."
Frank found paper and pencil and set to work, while the rest gathered
eagerly around and looked on.

"This is the river," he said. "There's a big curve in it along our farm.
The road runs along the top of the slope, and this is where the house
is."
"What lies between the house and the river?" asked Uncle Robert.
"The big cornfield," said Frank. "That's where we are going to plant
to-morrow if it is a pleasant day. And right here, in the corner by the
woods, is the spring."
"The water comes right out of the ground," said Susie; "and it is as cold
as ice."
"Here," said Frank, "is the wood. You know we drove through it this
afternoon. The woods are on both sides of the creek."
"See the crooked line he makes for the creek," said Donald.
"That is where the violets and buttercups grow, uncle," said Susie,
pointing to the map.
"Where does the creek come from?" asked Uncle Robert.
"There's a pond away back in the woods," said Donald. "It comes from
that; but it is a swamp part of the year."
"The cat-tails grow there," said Susie.
"Well," said Uncle Robert, "the house, the cornfield, and the woods--is
that all of the farm?"
"Oh, no!" said Frank. "It is low along the river, but back of the
cornfield it gets higher, and that's where the grapes are. On this side of
the road is the orchard; and here, between the orchard and the woods,
come in the yard and garden."
"Don't leave out the barnyard," said Donald.
"What's back of the barn?" asked Uncle Robert.

"The field of timothy; and next to it is the clover field. That is as far as
the farm goes that way."
[Illustration: CLOVER TIMOTHY WHEAT OATS RYE]
"The wheat field is on the other side of the timothy, Frank," said
Donald, "and the oats between that and the road, beside the orchard."
"Put in the potatoes along the road," said Susie.
"Now all we have left is the rye field over in the corner," said Donald.
"That is the way it is this year," said Mr. Leonard, who sat with his
paper in his hand. But the paper was unread. He found the group
around the table much more interesting.
"Now it is all done," said Susie, hopping about on one foot. "Isn't it fun?
Let's draw the garden. I can do it."
"All right," said Uncle Robert, "you shall; but I think we'd better finish
the farm first. Who can tell how many acres there are in each of these
lots?"
"I know there are twenty in the timothy meadow," said Donald,
"because father always calls it the twenty-acre lot."
"Write it down on the map, Frank," said Uncle Robert. "How much