MY SUMMER IN A GARDEN. 123 



gleams as ruddy as the cheek of the 

 Nutbrown Maid. The Flemish Beauties 

 come off readily from the stein, if I take 

 them in my hand : they say all kinds of 

 beauty come off by handling. 



The garden is peace as much as if it 

 were an empire. Even the man s cow 

 lies down under the tree where the man 

 has tied her, with such an air of content 

 ment, that I have small desire to disturb 

 her. She is chewing my cud as if it 

 were hers. Well, eat on and chew on, 



* 



melancholy brute. I have not the heart 

 to tell the man to take you away : and it 

 would do no good if I had ; he wouldn t 

 do it. The man has not a taking way. 

 Munch on, ruminant creature. The frost 

 will soon come ; the grass will be brown. 

 T will be charitable while this blessed lull 

 continues ; for our benevolences must 

 soon be turned to other and more distant 

 objects, the amelioration of the concli- 



