A KITCHEN GARDEN. 105 



The sod was strong, not having been disturbed for 

 years, and it was many days before there was any 

 thing resembling regular beds. In time, however, 

 the peas appeared above ground; egg-plants were 

 transplanted ; beans crept up, and demanded poles to 

 climb on ; queer-looking, weedy affairs, that Weeville 

 designated cauliflowers or tomatoes, as he pleased, 

 made themselves conspicuous, and the success of the 

 undertaking seemed assured when one morning 

 Pat rushed up to Weeville s place, and, with staring 

 eyes, announced that the cows had grazed off all the 

 peas. 



Any animal that entered that plot of ground ap 

 peared instinctively to know where the garden was, 

 although better-endowed creatures might have trouble 

 to find it, and either wanted to rest or pasture there, 

 or at least to run over it. But when they proceeded 

 to graze on the peas, it became serious, and upon Pat s 

 announcing, the following week, that they had been 

 at it again, Weeville called upon me to say that there 

 must be a fence round the lot, or he would not an 

 swer for the garden. Pat was set to work at once 

 building fence. 



Since the days of the Tower of Babel, when the 

 world was divided up into tribes, the nations have 

 been distinguished by peculiar aptitudes. The En- 



