136 MY SUMMER IN A GARDEN. 



of Mr. Colfax, I did not suppose that this vine 

 would run any more, and intended to root it 

 out. But one can never say what these politi 

 cians mean ; and I shall let this variety grow 

 until after the next election, at least ; although 

 I hear that the fruit is small, and rather sour. 

 If there is any variety of strawberries that really 

 declines to run, and devotes itself to a private 

 life of fruit-bearing, I should like to get it. I 

 may mention here, since we are on politics, that 

 the Doolittle raspberries had sprawled all over 

 the strawberry-beds : so true is it that politics 

 makes strange bedfellows. 



But another enemy had come into the straw- 

 berries, which, after all that has been said in 

 these papers, I am almost ashamed to mention. 

 But does the preacher in the pulpit, Sunday 

 after Sunday, year after year, shrink from speak- 

 ing of sin ? I refer, of course, to the greatest 

 enemy of mankind, " p-sl-y." The ground was 



