OUR LAKE 



"That clump must come down," quoth the Constant 

 Improver. 



Standing before its luxuriant beauty I shivered, but 

 turned away without a protest, accepting the decree of 

 Fate. We freed the big Wisconsin willow from her 

 neighbor's too close proximity and disclosed her, 

 graceful, single-minded, regal, with space in which to 

 sway her pendent branches unhindered. Our wild 

 olives planted beside the shore path directly in front 

 of the house, making a gray mass in company with 

 the sea-buckthorn and guaranteed not to stretch above 

 them, have, in this rich earth, grown beyond all scale 

 and should be removed. I hope it may be done when 

 I am not at home. I know that the after result will 

 be a distinct improvement; but how anyone can have 

 the heart to put an ax to that feathery, fruity refuge 

 of bird-dom is beyond my understanding. 



Is it not fortunate that the world is governed by 

 a sterner sex whose clear judgment is not influenced 

 by sentimental considerations! Being myself of a 

 highly conservative nature and once pleased always 



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