MY FARM OF EDGEWOOD 



of that kindling magnetism which comes from 

 personal intercourse. Type grows wearisome 

 at last, however stocked with information and 

 gorgeous fancies; and a man frets for the 

 lively rebound of discussion. 



Friends from the city may drop upon you 

 from time to time, exercising this compassion 

 for your retirement; and they treat you com- 

 passionately. Of course the novelty of the 

 scene and the life has charms for any metro- 

 politan, whatever his tastes ; and he bears him- 

 self very briskly at first. The view is charm- 

 ing; the well-water is charming; the big oaks 

 (they are all maples) are charming. And his 

 eye falls upon a riotous hedge of Osage-orange, 

 "Dear me, that 's the hawthorn; how beauti- 

 ful it is!" 



Of course you do not correct him; in fact, 

 you partake of his exhilaration, and seem to 

 see things with new eyes. 



"And bless me, here 's your boy (it 's a 

 girl) ; how old is he?" (patting her head). 



What a fine flow of spirits he is in, to be 

 sure! You show him up and down your 

 grounds (always "your grounds," he calls 

 them, if it be only a potato garden). 



Presently his eye lights upon a blooming 

 Weigelia. "Ah, a dwarf apple ! and do you go 



280 



