322 THE GARDEN, YOU, AND I 



The reason for my being by myself at this particu- 

 lar moment is that Bart, mounted on solemn Romeo, 

 has taken the Infant, astride her diminutive pony, by 

 a long leader, for a long- promised ride up the river 

 road, the same being the finale of the celebration of 

 his birthday, that began shortly after daylight. The 

 Infant, in order to be early enough to give him the 

 first of his thirty-three kisses, came the night before, 

 and though she has camped out with us at intervals 

 all summer, the novelty has not worn off. She has a 

 happy family of pets that, without being caged or in 

 any way coerced or confined, linger about the old 

 barn, seem to watch for her coming, and expect their 

 daily rations, even though they do not care to be 

 handled. 



Punch and Judy, the gray squirrels of the dove- 

 cote, perch upon her shoulders and pry into the pockets 

 of her overalls for nuts or kernels of corn, all the while 

 keeping 'a bright eye upon Reddy, the setter pup, 

 who, though he lies ever so sedately, nose between 

 paws, they well know is not to be trusted. While as 

 for birds, all the season we have had chipping- spar- 

 rows, catbirds, robins, and even a wood- thrush, leader 

 of the twilight orchestra, all of whom the little witch 

 has tempted in turn by a bark saucer spread with 



