1 68 MY SUMMER IN A GARDEN. 



garden this summer ; but it seems to me there 

 is very little to show for it. It has been a ter 

 rible campaign ; but where is the indemnity ? 

 Where are all &quot; sass &quot; and Lorraine ? It is 

 true that we have lived on the country ; but 

 we desire, besides, the fruits of the war. There 

 are no onions, for one thing. I am quite 

 ashamed to take people into my garden, and 

 have them notice the absence of onions. It 

 is very marked. In onion is strength ; and a 

 garden without it lacks flavor. The onion in 

 its satin wrappings is among the most beauti 

 ful of vegetables ; and it is the only one that 

 represents the essence of things. It can al 

 most be said to have a soul. You take off coat 

 after coat, and the onion is still there ; and, 

 when the last one is removed, who dare say 

 that the onion itself is destroyed, though you 

 can weep over its departed spirit ? If there is 

 any one thing on this fallen earth that the angels 



