GRAFTING, OR HORTICULTURAL CONVERSION. 295 



young cherry sapling took a notion to grow. 

 Nobody planted it, nobody wanted it there. 

 It was rather in the way, and how it managed 

 to escape being trampled down or cut down, is 

 a mystery akin to that of the life and vigor of 

 some children against whom everything seems 

 to conspire. Before I realized it, there was 

 flourishing right before my door a tall, shapely 

 sapling, but in a state of nature rather than one 

 of grace, and commencing to bear villanously 

 small and bitter fruit. 



Something must be done. To let it grow on 

 its rampant style, and destroy with its baneful 

 shade two saintly little pear-trees standing near, 

 would not answer. To dig it out would be a 

 mean, cowardly way of meeting the question, 

 besides being unscriptural. Indeed, my reputa- 

 tion as a clergyman was at stake. If I could 

 not convert this little horticultural sinner grow- 

 ing right under my nose, what impression could 



