BUT TEK- MAKING. 227 



ed at it curiously, then spread some on his bread and 

 tried it, then ate the bread without. Hastily taking 

 a piece and tasting it, I no longer wondered at his 

 conduct, but, turning to the maid, sternly demanded 

 how she dare put such stuff on the table. 



&quot; Oh, never mind,&quot; said my friend ; &quot; these things 

 will happen in the country, where you do not have 

 any markets to go to. I often taste bad butter when 

 I am out of town, although not often so bad as this ; 

 but I can do without very well.&quot; 



When dinner was over, I visited my man, and in 

 quired of him, rather reproachfully than angrily, 



&quot;Patrick, what was that you made? Was it 

 cheese, or was it butter? It was very bad as either; 

 but which was it ?&quot; 



&quot; Sure, yer honor,&quot; he replied, scratching his head, 

 &quot; I don t rightly know meself ; but the crame was 

 spoilt intirely, and I did the best I could.&quot; 



&quot; Patrick,&quot; I answered, &quot; I am afraid you are elec 

 trical, after all.&quot; 



This attempt was but a sort of interlude, and I 

 kept my mind mainly on the various productions of 

 the earth. 



&quot; Weeville,&quot; I said one day, in early fall, when the 

 first cold snap had thrown a tinge of brown over 

 much of my garden, &quot;how do you manage to collect 

 the flower-seeds for use next spring ?&quot; 



