all sorts of things, among others, gardening; for Nat, looking down
from his perch, asked what was planted in the many little patches
lying below them on the other side of the brook.

"These are our farms," said Tommy. "We each have our own
patch, and raise what we like in it, only have to choose different
things, and can't change till the crop is in, and we must keep it in
order all summer."

"What are you going to raise this year?"

"Wal, I cattleated to hev beans, as they are about the easiest crop
a-goin'."

Nat could not help laughing, for Tommy had pushed back his hat,
put his hands in his pockets, and drawled out his words in
unconscious imitation of Silas, the man who managed the place for
Mr. Bhaer.

"Come, you needn't laugh; beans are ever so much easier than corn
or potatoes. I tried melons last year, but the bugs were a bother,
and the old things wouldn't get ripe before the frost, so I didn't
have but one good water and two little 'mush mellions,' " said
Tommy, relapsing into a "Silasism" with the last word.

"Corn looks pretty growing," said Nat, politely, to atone for his
laugh.

"Yes, but you have to hoe it over and over again. Now, six weeks'
beans only have to be done once or so, and they get ripe soon. I'm