126 MY SUMMER IN A GARDEN. 



ligerent fashion, with this terrible mitrailleuse 

 of gardening. 



The tomatoes are getting tired of ripening, 

 and are beginning to go into a worthless con- 

 dition, green. The cucumbers cumber the 

 ground, great yellow, over-ripe objects, no 

 more to be compared to the crisp beauty of 

 their youth than is the fat swine of the sty 

 to the clean little pig. The nutmeg-melons, 

 having covered themselves with delicate lace- 

 work, are now ready to leave the vine. I know 

 they are ripe if they come easily off the 

 stem. 



Moral Observations. You can tell when peo- 

 ple are ripe by their willingness to let go. Rich- 

 ness and ripeness are not exactly the same. 

 The rich are apt to hang to the stem with 

 tenacity. I have nothing against the rich. If 

 I were not virtuous, I should like to be rich. 

 But we cannot have everything, as the man said 



