MARCH 17 



with him, and I cordially agreed to the proposal. 

 In the old times my brother had always been my 

 closest friend, and nothing could be more natural 

 now than that we should make our home together. 

 It was literally a case of making a home, for he 

 had bought a couple of labourers' cottages with 

 a meadow adjoining, and our first summer was 

 spent in building an annexe to the original structure. 

 This was his province, while the making of the 

 garden was mine. House and garden are both 

 about seven years old now, and have settled 

 down into congenial fellowship. The house looks 

 weathered and rriddle-aged with its fast-mellowing 

 brick walls and its sober thatched roof. The 

 garden with all its faults and there were many in 

 its planning is not out of harmony with the house. 

 Both are simple, humble, natural, as they should be. 



We had in our efforts a valuable coadjutor in 

 the person of Sterculus Picumnus, that worthy 

 successor of the son of Faunus, who, as Dean 

 Hole in one of his most fascinating books has 

 reminded us, invented the art of spreading manure 

 on the land to enrich it for cultivation. Sterculus 

 lived for several years in our employ, and gave 

 himself up heart and soul to making our garden ; 

 then, tempted by a large wage, he left us a year 

 since for a better situation in the North of 

 England. Mrs. Sterculus Picumnus, who had 

 urged him perseveringly to this course, was a 

 person not altogether without insight, and when 

 I bade her good-bye she flung her arms round 

 my neck and wept on my bosom, crying 



''Don't lose sight of us; don't lose sight of us! 

 We might be glad of you yet." 

 c 



