But she would not own that they were dead, and hoped on against hope, until the day when Perks came up to see the garden, and told her quite plainly that all her roses were as dead as doornails.
"Only good for bonfires, Miss," he said.

"You just dig 'em up and burn 'em, and I'll give you some nice fresh roots outer my garden; pansies, and stocks, and sweet willies, and forget-me-nots.

I'll bring 'em along to-morrow if you get the ground ready." So next day she set to work, and that happened to be the day when Mother had praised her and the others about not quarrelling.

She moved the rose-bushes and carried them to the other end of the garden, where the rubbish heap was that they meant to make a bonfire of when Guy Fawkes' Day came.
Meanwhile Peter had decided to flatten out all his forts and earthworks, with a view to making a model of the railway-tunnel, cutting, embankment, canal, aqueduct, bridges, and all.
So when Bobbie came back from her last thorny journey with the dead rose-bushes, he had got the rake and was using it busily.
"_I_ was using the rake," said Bobbie.
"Well, I'm using it now," said Peter.
"But I had it first," said Bobbie.
"Then it's my turn now," said Peter.

And that was how the quarrel began.
"You're always being disagreeable about nothing," said Peter, after some heated argument.
"I had the rake first," said Bobbie, flushed and defiant, holding on to its handle.
"Don't--I tell you I said this morning I meant to have it.