FROM A NEW ENGLAND HILLSIDE. 149 



bled out of bed the wrong end foremost. 

 So we used to put it, but I suppose that we 

 shall have to admit that it was only the 

 extra fever in the blood that caused the 

 fractious ways which manifested themselves 

 where all is generally serene. I am sure 

 that the babies God bless them ! do not 

 know how the endless little shrieks and 

 fretting wear upon the nerves, themselves 

 undergoing a sort of disintegration. &quot; Tom 

 won t give me this,&quot; and &quot;Hal won t let 

 me have that, mamma,&quot; and &quot;I don t 

 want to,&quot; and all the negative situations 

 possible, come to the surface. And then a 

 little clear laugh or gurgle of delight tells 

 us that joy has not quite gone out of the 

 world. 



And we all compare notes upon the mo 

 mentous subject. &quot;Isn t it hot!&quot; and 

 &quot; It s going to be hotter than yesterday,&quot; 

 and &quot; Were you ever in such a hot place 

 before in your life?&quot; and &quot;Oh, if we 

 could only have a shower ! &quot; and &quot; Proba 

 bilities says that we shall have one this 

 afternoon,&quot; and &quot;That s the worst news 

 I ve heard yet ; then we re sure not to have 

 one.&quot; All the familiar phrases come along, 

 as new as ever. 



The hammocks are filled and swinging ; 



