XVI 

 THE FRAME OF THE PICTURE 



VINES AND SHRUBS 



(Mary Penrose to Barbara Campbell) 



Woodridge, September 10. Your chronicle of the 

 Pink Family found me by myself in camp, dreaming 

 away as vigorously as if it was a necessary and prac- 

 tical occupation. After all, are we sure that it is not, 

 in a way, both of these? This season my dreams of 

 night have been so long that they have lingered into 

 the things of day and vice versa, and yet neither the 

 one nor the other have whispered of idleness, but the 

 endless hope of work. 



Bart's third instalment of vacation ends to-morrow, 

 though we shall continue to sleep out of doors so long 

 as good weather lasts; the remaining ten days we are 

 saving until October, when the final transplanting of 

 trees and shrubs is to be made; and in addition to 

 those for the knoll we have marked some shapely dog- 

 woods, hornbeams, and tulip trees for grouping in 

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