MY SUMMER IN A GARDEN. 117 



appeared in the opening. I was vigi 

 lantly watching him. 



&quot; And now 

 She spoke through the still weather.&quot; 



&quot; Are you afraid to speak to him ? &quot; 

 asked Tolly. Not exactly, 



&quot; she spoke as when 

 The stars sang in their spheres.&quot; 



Stung by this inquiry, I leaned out 

 of the window till 



&quot; The bar / leaned on (was) warm,&quot; 



and cried, 



&quot; Halloo, there ! What are you do- 

 ing?&quot; 



&quot; Look out he don t shoot you,&quot; called 

 out Polly from the other window, sud 

 denly going on another tack. 



I explained, that a sportsman would 

 not be likely to shoot a gentleman in 

 his own house, with bird-shot, so long 

 as quails were to be had. 



