210 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 



considerable havoc among the apples. Along the garden 

 fence is an extensive row of red and white roses, just at 

 their best ; and such roses ! How it gladdens one's heart 

 to look at them ! If they were hidden from sight, their 

 heavy fragrance would betray their presence. 



I wish I could paint the picture that lies about me ; 

 the old orchard that has dropped its apples for three 

 generations, the bank of roses flanking the* lawn, the 

 cosy log house almost covered with vines, the waving 

 fields of wheat stretching away in the distance, with 

 fine maple Avoods in the background. It would not be 

 complete without a sketch of the fine-faced old gentle- 

 man in liis arm chair on the lawn, with his two faithful 

 dogs lying at his feet ; and then a pitcher of the well- 

 preserved cider from the cellar would give tone to the 

 picture. On the end of a log at the corner of the house 

 was a robin's nest with four eggs. We were admiring 

 it yesterday, but this morning both nest and eggs had 

 disappeared. A little frouzy-headed boy that they call 

 " Pat " was hanging about the premises, and I asked 

 him about the nest. " I took it, sir, for they are bad 

 craturs with the cherries." To the question of what he 

 did with the eggs, he answered promptly, " Sure, and 

 I ated 'em." 



To-morrow we go to Honeoye Falls. 



