MY SUMMER IN A GARDEN. 153 



Fisher, after the capture. So the great, 

 grassy meadow at Munich, any morning 

 during the October Fest, is strewn with 

 the empty beer-mugs. History con 

 stantly repeats itself. There is a large 

 crop of moral reflections in my garden, 

 which anybody is at liberty to gather 

 who passes this way. 



I have tried to get in any thing that 

 offered temptation to sin. There would 

 be no thieves if there was nothing to 

 steal ; and I suppose, in the thieves 

 catechism, the provider is as bad as the 

 thief; and, probably, I am to blame for 

 leaving out a few winter-pears, which 

 some predatory boy carried off on Sun 

 day. At first, I was angry, and said I 

 should like to have caught the urchin in 

 the act ; but, on second thought, I was 

 glad I did not. The interview could 

 not have been pleasant. I shouldn t 

 have known what to do with him. The 



