Join Host Bree Carlile as she reads the eighteenth chapter of Little Men.

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Today we'll be continuing little Men by Louisa May Alcott.

Chapter 18 crops the garden did well that summer, and in September the little crops were gathered in with much rejoicing.

Jack and Ned joined their farms and raised potatoes.

Those being a good soluble article, they got twelve bushels, counting little ones and all, and sold them to Mr.

Bear at a fair price, for potatoes went fast in that house.

Emile and Franz devoted themselves to corn and had a jolly little husking in the barn, after which they took their corn to the mill and came proudly home with meal enough to supply the family with hasty pudding and Johnny cake for a lone time.

They would not take money for their crops because, as Franz said, we never can pay uncle for all he has done for us if we raised corn for the rest of our days.

Nat had beans in such abundance that he despaired of ever shelling them, till Mrs.

Jo proposed a new way which succeeded admirably.

The dry pods were spread upon the barn floor, nat fiddled, and the boys danced quadrilles on them, till they were thrashed out with much merriment and very little labor.

Tommy's six weeks beans were a failure for a dry spell early in the season hurt them because it gave them no water, and after that he was so sure that they could take care of themselves, he let the poor thing struggle with bugs and weeds till they were exhausted and died a lingering death.

So Tommy had to dig his farm over again and plant peas.

But they were late, the birds ate many, the bushes, not being firmly planted, blew down, and when the poor peas came at last, no one cared for them.

As their day was over and spring lamb had grown into mutton, tommy consoled himself with a charitable effort, for he transplanted all the thistles he could find and tended them carefully for Toby, who was fond of the prickly delicacy and had eaten all he could find on the place.

The boys had great fun over Tom's thistle bed, but he insisted that it was better to care for poor Toby than for himself, and declared that he would devote his entire farm next year to thistles, worms and snails that Demi's turtles and nat's pet owl might have the food they loved as well as the donkey.

So, like shiftless, kind hearted, happy go lucky, tommy Demi had supplied his grandmother with lettuce all summer, and in the autumn sent his grandfather a basket of turnips.

Each one scrubbed up till it looked like a great white egg.

His grandma was fond of salad, and one of his grandpa's favorite quotations was Lucellus, whom Frugality could charm ate roasted turnips at the Sabine farm.

Therefore, these vegetables, offered to the dear domestic god and goddess, were affectionate, appropriate, and classical.

Daisy had nothing but flowers in her little plot, and it bloomed all summer long with a succession of gay or fragrant posies.

She was very fond of her garden and delved away in it at all hours, watching over her roses and pansies, sweet peas and minionette, as faithfully and tenderly as she did over her dolls or her friends.

Little nosegates were sent into town on all occasions, and certain vases about the house were her of special care.

She had all sorts of pretty fancies about her flowers and loved to tell the children the story of the pansy and show them how the stepmother leaf sat up in her green chair in purple and gold, how the two own children in gay yellow had each its little seat while the stepchildren in dull colors, both sat on one small stool.

And the poor little father in his red nightcap was kept out of sight in the middle.

Of the flower that a monk's dark face looked out of the monk's hood larkspur that the flowers of the canary vine were so like dainty birds fluttering the yellow wings that one almost expected to see them fly away and the snapdragons that went off like little pistol shots when you cracked them.

Splendid dollies did she make out of scarlet and white poppies, with ruffled robes tied round to the waist, with Grassblade sashes and astonishing hats of choriopsis on their green heads.

Pea pod boats with rose leaf sails received these flower people and floated them about a placid pool in the most charming style for finding that there were no elves.

Daisy made her own and loved the fanciful little friends who played their parts in her summer life.

NAN went in for herbs and had a fine display of useful plants, which she tended with steadily increasing interest and care.

Very busy was she in September, cutting, drawing and tying up her sweet harvest and writing down in a little book how the different herbs are to be used.

She had tried several experiments and made several mistakes, so she wished to be particular lest she should give little Huz another fit by administering wormwood instead of catnip.

D***, Dolly and Rob each grubbed away on his small farm and made more stir about it than all the rest put together.

Parsnips and carrots were the crops of the two DS, and they longed for it to be late enough to pull up the precious vegetables.

D*** did privately examine his carrots and plant them again, feeling that Silas was right in saying it was too soon for them yet.

Rob's crop was four small squashes and one immense pumpkin.

It really was a bouncer, as everyone said, and I assure you that two small persons could sit on it side by side.

It seemed to have absorbed all the goodness of the little garden and all the sunshine that shone down on it, and lay there a great round golden ball full of rich suggestions of pumpkin pies for weeks to come.

Robbie was so proud of his mammoth vegetable that he took everyone to see it, and when frosts began to nip, covered it up each night with an old bed quilt, tucking it round as if the pumpkin was a well beloved baby.

The day it was gathered, he would let no one touch it but himself, and nearly broke his back, tugging it to the barn in his little wheelbarrow, with D*** and Dolly harnessed in front to give a heave up the path.

His mother promised him that the Thanksgiving pies should be made from it, and hinted vaguely that she had a plan in her head which would cover the pie's pumpkin and its owner with glory.

Poor Billy had planted cucumbers, but unfortunately hoed them up and left the pigweed.

This mistake grieved him very much for ten minutes.

Then he forgot all about it and sewed a handful of bright buttons which he had collected, evidently thinking in his feeble mind that they were money and would come up and multiply so that he might make many quarters, as Tommy did.

No one disturbed him, and he did what he liked with his plot, which soon looked as if a series of small earthquakes had stirred it up.

When the general harvest day came, he would have had nothing but stones and weeds to show if kindled Asia had not hung half a dozen oranges on the dead tree he stuck up in the middle.

Billy was delighted with his crop, and no one spoiled his pleasure in the little miracle which pity wrought for him by making withered branches bear strange fruit.

Stuffy had various trials with his melons for being impatient to taste them.

He had a solitary revel before they were ripe, and made himself so ill that for a day or two it seemed doubtful if he would ever eat any more.

But he pulled through it and served up his first cantaloupe without tasting a mouthful himself.

They were excellent melons, for he had a warm slope for them and they ripened fast.

The last and best were lingering on the vines, and Stuffy had announced that he should sell them to a neighbor.

This disappointed the boys who had hoped to eat the melons themselves, and they expressed their displeasure in a new and striking manner, going one morning to gaze upon the three fine watermelons which he had kept for the market.

Stuffy was horrified to find the word Pig cut in white letters on the green rind staring at him.

From everyone.

He was in a great rage and flew to Mrs.

Joe for redress.

She listened condoled with him and then said, if you want to turn the laugh, I'll tell you how, but you must give up the melons.

Well, I will, for I can't thrash.

All the boys, but I'd like to.

Give them something to remember.

The mean sneaks, growled Stuff, still in a fume.

Now Mrs.

Jo was pretty sure who had done the trick, for she had seen three heads suspiciously near to one another in the sofa corner the evening before, and when these heads had nodded with chuckles and whispers, this experienced woman knew mischief was afoot.

A moonlight night, a rustling in the old cherry tree near Emile's window, a cut on Tommy's finger, all helped to confirm her suspicions.

And having cooled Stuffy's wrath a little, she bade him bring his maltreated melons to her room and say not a word to anyone of what had happened.

He did so, and the three wags were amazed to find their jokes so quietly taken.

It spoiled the fun, and the entire disappearance of the melons made them uneasy.

So did Stuffy's good nature, for he looked more placid and plump than ever and surveyed them with an air of calm pity that perplexed them very much.

At dinner time they discovered why, for then Stuffy's vengeance fell upon them, and the laugh was turned against them.

When the pudding was eaten and the fruit was put on, marianne reappeared in a high state of giggle, bearing a large watermelon.

Silas followed with another, and Dan brought up the rear with a third.

One was placed before each of the three guilty lads, and they read on the smooth green skins this addition to their own work with the compliments of the pig.

Everyone else read it also, and the whole table was in a roar, for the trick had been whispered about so everyone knew the sequel.

Emil, Ned and Tommy did not know where to look and had not a word to say for themselves.

So they wisely joined in the laugh, cut up the melons and handed them round, saying what all the rest agreed to.

That stuffy had taken a wise and merry way to return good for evil.

Dan had no garden, for he was away or lame the greater part of the summer, so he had helped Silas wherever he could, chopped wood for Asia, and taken care of the lawn so well that Mrs.

Jo always had smooth paths and nicely shaven turf before her door when the others got in their crops.

He looked sorry that he had so little to show, but as autumn went on, he bethought himself of a woodland harvest which no one would dispute with him and which was peculiarly his own.

Every Saturday he was away alone to the forests, fields and hills and always came back loaded with spoils.

For he seemed to know the meadows where the best flagroot grew, the thicket where the sassafras was spiciest, the haunts where the squirrels went for nuts, the white oak whose bark was most valuable and the little gold thread vine.

That NURSEY liked to cure the canker with all sorts of splendid red and yellow leaves did Dan bring home for Mrs.

Joe to dress her parlour with graceful seeded grasses, climatis tassels downy soft yellow waxwork berries and mosses.

Red, brimmed white or emerald green.

I need not sigh for the woods now, because Dan brings the woods to me, Mrs.

Jo used to say, as she glorified the walls with yellow maple, boughs and scarlet wood vine wreaths.

Or filled her vases with russet, ferns, hemlock sprays full of delicate cones, and hearty autumn flowers, for Dan's crop suited her well.

The great Garrett was full of the children's little stores, and for a time was one of the sights of the house.

Daisy's flower seeds and neat little paper bags, all labeled, lay in a drawer of a three legged table.

Nan's herbs hung in bunches against the wall, filling the air with their aromatic breath.

Tommy had a basket of thistle down with the tiny seeds attached, for he meant to plant them next year if they did not all fly away before that time.

A meal had bunches of popcorn hanging there to dry, and demi laid up acorns and different sorts of grain for the pets.

But Dan's crop made the best show, for fully one half of the floor was covered with the nuts he brought.

All kinds were there, for he ranged the woods for miles round, climbed the tallest trees and forced his way into the thickest hedges, for his plunder, walnuts, chestnuts, hazelnuts and beechnuts lay in separate compartments, getting brown and dry and sweet, ready for winter revels.

There was one butternut tree on the place, and Rob and and Teddy called it theirs.

It bore well this year and the great dingy nuts came dropping down to hide among the dead leaves where the busy squirrels found them better than the lazy bears, their father had told them the boys, not the squirrels.

They should have the nuts if they would pick them up, but no one was to help.

It was easy work, and Teddy liked it.

Only he soon got tired and left his little basket half full for another day.

But the other day was slow to arrive, and meantime the sly squirrels were hard at work, scampering up and down the old elm trees, stowing the nuts away till their holes were full, then all about the crotches of the boughs to be removed at their leisure.

Their funny little ways amused the boys till one day Silas said, have you sold them nuts to the squirrels?

No, answered Rob.

Wondering what Silas meant.

Well, then you'd better fly round, or them spry little fellers won't leave you none.

Oh, we can beat them when we begin.

There are such lots of nuts we shall have aplenty.

There ain't many more to come down, and they've cleared the ground pretty well.

See if they ain't.

Robbie ran to look and was alarmed to find how few remained.

He called Teddy, and they worked hard all one afternoon while the squirrels sat on the fence and scolded.

Now, Ted, we must keep watch and pick up just as fast as they fall, or we shan't have more than a bushel, and everyone will laugh at us if we don't.

The naughty quillies turn to have them.

I'll pick fast and run and put them in the barn.

Twick, said Teddy, frowning at little Frisky, who chattered and whisked its tail indignantly.

That night, a high wind blew down hundreds of nuts, and when Mrs.

Jo came to wake her little sons, she said briskly, come, my laddies, the squirrels are hard at it, and you'll have to work well today, or they'll have every nut on the ground.

No, they won't.

And Robbie tumbled up in a great hurry, gobbled his breakfast and rushed out to save his property.

Teddy went too, and worked like a little beaver trotting to and fro with full and empty baskets.

Another bushel was soon put away in the corn barn, and they were scrambling among the leaves for more nuts when the bell rang for school.

Oh, Father, let me stay out and pick those horrid.

Squirrels will have my nuts if you don't.

I'll do my lessons by and by.

Cried Rob, running into the schoolroom flushed and tousled by the fresh cold wind and his eager work.

If you had been up early and done a little every morning, there would be no hurry.

Now, I told you that, Rob, and you never minded.

I cannot have the lessons neglected as the work has been.

The squirrels will get more than their share this year, and they deserve it, for they have worked best.

You may go an hour earlier, but that is all.

Mr.

Bear led Rob to his place, where the little man dashed at his books as if bent on making sure of the precious hour promised him.

It was almost maddening to sit still and see the wind shaking down the last nuts and the lively thieves flying about, pausing now and then to eat one in his face and flirt their tails as if they said saucely.

We'll have them in spite of you, lazy Rob.

The only thing that sustained the poor child in this trying moment was the sight of Teddy working away all alone.

It was really splendid, the pluck and perseverance of the little lad.

He picked and picked till his back ached.

He trudged to and fro till his small legs were tired and he defied wind weariness and wicked quillies till his mother left her work and did the carrying for him, full of admiration for the kind little fellow who tried to help his brother.

When Rob was dismissed, he found Teddy reposing in the bushel basket, quite used up, but unwilling to quit the field, for he flapped his hat at the thieves with one grubby little hand while he refreshed himself with the big apple held in the other.

Rob fell to work, and the ground was cleared before 02:00, the nuts safely in the corn barn loft and the weary workers exalted in their success.

But Frisky and his wife were not to be vanquished so easily, and when Rob went up to look at his nuts a few days later, he was amazed to see how many had vanished.

None of the boys could have stolen them because the door had been locked, the doves could not have eaten them, and there were no rats about.

There was great lamentation among the young bears, till D*** said, I saw Frisky on the roof of the corn barn.

Maybe he took them.

I know he did.

I'll have a trap and kill him dead.

Cried Rob, disgusted with Frisky's grasping nature.

Perhaps if you watch, you can find out where he puts them and I.

May be able to get them back.

For you, said Dan, who was much amused by the fight between the boys and squirrels.

So Rob watched and saw Mr.

And Mrs.

Frisky drop from the drooping elm boughs onto the roof of the corn barn dodge in at one of the little doors, much to the disturbance of the doves, and come out with a nut in each mouth so laden they could not get back the way they came, but ran down the low roof along the wall and leaping off at a corner.

They vanished a minute and reappeared without their plunder.

Rob ran to the place, and in a hollow under the leaves he found a heap of the stolen property hidden away to be carried off to the holes by and by.

Oh, you little villains.

I'll cheat you now and not leave one, said Rob.

So he cleared the corner and the corn barn and put the contested nuts in the garret, making sure that no broken window pane could anywhere let in the unprincipled squirrels.

They seemed to feel that the contest was over and retired to their hole, but now and then could not resist throwing down nutshells on Rob's head and scolding violently as if they could not forgive him, nor forget that he had the best of the battle.

Father and Mother bear's crop was of a different sort and not so easily described, but they were satisfied with it, felt that their summer work had prospered well, and by and by had a harvest that made them very happy.

Thank you for joining Bite at a Time Books today while we read a bite of one of your favorite classics.

Again, my name is Brie Carlyle and.

I hope you come back tomorrow for.

The next bite of Little Men.

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