The Rescue of an Old Place 



He takes 



tribute. 



A vista in- 

 sisted upon. 



that may have been because we tried to 

 make him believe they were barrels. 



So much for taking a Man-Mountain 

 into Lilliput. I would not have trusted 

 that one alone upon the premises with a 

 pair of scissors, for there is nothing less 

 to be depended on than the cutting mania. 

 Granted that one ultimately accepts the 

 situation, the moment when your tree 

 comes down is always one of anguish. It 

 takes so long to grow, and is so easily de- 

 stroyed. Our Brobdingnagian took his toll 

 at last, for he pointed out the fact that the 

 flourishing little Elm I have been cherish- 

 ing to shade the seat in the Box-arbor 

 from the noonday heat, was really injur- 

 ing the Box and should come down, which 

 it did forthwith, as a tribute to his supe- 

 rior knowledge, a nice tree, too, that it 

 would take ten years and more to grow 

 again. 



We have another disturbing visitor who 

 insists upon a vista, which involves the 

 sacrifice of a fine clump of Lilacs and 

 Buckthorn, that shuts off a view of the 

 northern part of the place. We are dis- 

 posed to think that it would be an im- 

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