50 MY SUMMER IN A GARDEN. 



suck eggs.&quot; It was only the round of 

 Nature. The worms eat a noxious 

 something in the ground. The birds 

 eat the worms. Calvin eats the birds. 

 We eat no, we do not eat Calvin. 

 There the chain stops. When you 

 ascend the scale of being, and come to 

 an animal that is, like ourselves, inedi 

 ble, you have arrived at a result where 

 you can rest. Let us respect the cat. 

 He completes an edible chain. 



I have little heart to discuss methods 

 of raising peas. It occurs to me that I 

 can have an iron pea-bush, a sort of 

 trellis, through which I could discharge 

 electricity at frequent intervals, and 

 electrify the birds to death when they 

 alight ; for they stand upon my beau 

 tiful brush in order to pick out the peas. 

 An apparatus of this kind, with an 

 operator, would cost, however, about as 

 much as the peas. A neighbor suggests, 



