78 A YEAR IN A LANCASHIRE GARDEN. 



which stands by the grass walk in the walled 

 garden. In the summer it was a mass of scented 

 yellow blossoms, round which bees were always 

 buzzing. Then, as the year grew older, bunches 

 of bright coral hung over it from top to bottom. 

 We consider our Barberries as not the least im- 

 portant of our fruit crop. We preserve them, 

 some in bunches, some picked like Currants. 

 We crystallize them in sugar., and they become 

 delicious bonbons. We steep them in salt and 

 water, and they keep as a gay garnish for cold 

 meat or game. Our Barberry-tree is not looking 

 its best at present; a big branch has withered, 

 and I must cut it in. 



October 24. Since I wrote we have had a great 

 gale, which has swept over us, and torn down an 

 Elm in the wood and a fine Chestnut in the croft 

 I could ill spare either of them, and it is but poor 

 comfort to think that our piled-up logs will outlast 

 the winter. It was the " wild west wind," of which 

 Shelley sings, which has done the mischief; and 

 smaller branches, lying scattered all over the lawn 

 and walks, show us where it passed. 



We are now preparing our Mushroom bed, for 

 we shall need it as the green vegetables fail us. 



