44 MY SUMMER IN A GARDEN. 



of the row with some cool and refreshing drink. 

 Agriculture is still in a very barbarous stage. I 

 hope to live yet to see the day when I can do 

 my gardening, as tragedy is done, to slow and 

 soothing music, and attended by some of the 

 comforts I have named. These things come so 

 forcibly into my mind sometimes as I work, that 

 perhaps, when a wandering breeze lifts my straw 

 hat, or a bird lights on a near currant-bush, and 

 shakes out a full-throated summer song, I almost 

 expect to find the cooling drink and the hospit- 

 able entertainment at the end of the row. But I 

 never do. There is nothing to be done but to 

 turn round, and hoe back to the other end. 



Speaking of those yellow squash-bugs, I think 

 I disheartened them by covering the plants so 

 deep with soot and wood-ashes that they could 

 not find them ; and I am in doubt if I shall ever 

 see the plants again. But I have heard of 

 another defence against the bugs. Put a fine 



