94 MY SUMMER IN A GARDEN. 



ing upon the green corn and the new potatoes, 

 as cool' as the cucumbers which lay sliced in ice 

 before her, and when she began to dispense the 

 fresh dishes, I saw at once that the day of my 

 destiny was over. You would have thought that 

 she owned all the vegetables, and had raised 

 them all from their earliest years. Such quiet, 

 vegetable airs ! Such gracious appropriation ! 

 At length I said, 



" Polly, do you know who planted that squash, 

 or those squashes ? " 



"James, I suppose." 



" Well, yes, perhaps James did plant them, to 

 a certain extent. But who hoed them ? " 



" We did." 



" We did ! " I said in the most sarcastic man' 

 ner. " And I suppose we put on the sackcloth 

 and ashes, when the striped bug came at four 

 o'clock, A. M., and we watched the tender leaves, 

 and watered night and morning the feeble plants 



