"V'y well--let's put 'em in rows--all the 'ed together, and all the
blue together."

"That'll do capitally," I said; "and then--what kind of flowers does
Sylvie like best in her garden?"

Bruno had to put his thumb in his mouth and consider a little before he
could answer. "Violets," he said, at last.

"There's a beautiful bed of violets down by the lake--"

"Oh, let's fetch 'em!" cried Bruno, giving a little skip into the air.
"Here! Catch hold of my hand, and I'll help you along. The g'ass is
rather thick down that way."

I couldn't help laughing at his having so entirely forgotten what a big
creature he was talking to.

"No, not yet, Bruno," I said; "we must consider what's the right thing
to do first. You see we've got quite a business before us."

"Yes, let's consider," said Bruno, putting his thumb into his mouth
again, and sitting down upon a stuffed mouse.

"What do you keep that mouse for?" I said. "You should bury it, or
throw it into the lake."

"Why, it's to measure with!" cried Bruno. "How ever would you do a
garden without one? We make each bed th'ee mouses and a half long, and
two mouses wide."