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Piqueur and Bele and Margot toiled valiantly pulling up the myriad abundance-of-weeds, but in vain. It was not until the resplendent autumn had passed that she had any inkling of the real pattern. There came a glorious moonlit night, a chilly night when she snuggled under the blankets and yawned over the chapter that told her "how to mulch plants for winter."
She doubled her little fist and shook it toward the candle, flickering low in its socket. "That's what has hidden the garden," she murmured, "that's why I can't see it " she wrinkled her nose in disgust. " Abundance-of-weeds Piqueur and Bele will settle you!" All through the verdant spring, all through the quick hot summer the girl puzzled over the unanswered riddle the scheme of the garden.
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