OUR COUNTRY LIFE 



hidden from below by the kudzu and trumpet vines, 

 and in winter is easily taken down by removing the 

 hinges at the house wall. 



The first night that I slept under this shelter through 

 a shower is another of my pleasurable memories. 

 Awakening with the first gentle patter, where was I? 

 Oh, safe and dry with nothing to worry about. With 

 a chuckle of glee I pulled the curtains across and 

 snapped them securely, then with a childlike grin 

 snuggled down to enjoy the increasing storm. The 

 wind blew in fitful gusts, the rain settled into a steady 

 downpour, rivers of water ran from the roof to the brick 

 terrace below and splashed in merry laughter; on the 

 tin roof the drops danced gayly, and I was out 

 in it, a part of it all, joining its lively play, yet in 

 some magical manner, cozy and warm and dry! 

 Whejther it lasted an hour or two or three I have no 

 recollection; the next thing that I remember is the 

 crystal clarity of the sunshine as I opened my won 

 dering eyes. 



How delicious that sense of guilt with which the 



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