CHAPTER II. 

 WHAT WE DID FIRST. 



IT was August when first we wandered in our garden of delight. 

 By November we had become the proud possessors of seventy- 

 two acres of rolling woodland which, from the high road some one 

 hundred and seventy feet above the level of the lake, sloped down in 

 all sorts of unexpected hills and hollows to the shore, three-quarters 

 of a mile away. Here a narrow strip of land covered with old trees 

 jutted into the water, partially enclosing a shallow bay. The former 

 owner, about twenty-five years before, had conceived the idea of 

 filling in this bay, and so had dumped huge stumps there, with two- 

 inch planks set on edge to keep the rich soil from breaking into the 

 water. The Man of Many Maps said, '" Here is where our work 

 begins, " and unveiled to us the possibilities of pebbly beach and 

 wild-rose bordered shore, where now the iris blossoms and pink 

 lythrums are reflected in the clear cold water. 



To a beginner in country life it seemed a formidable undertaking 

 to evolve from a perfectly wild piece of woodland a house and a 

 garden; so in order that no time should be wasted, fre consulted 



at once The Man of Many Maps, who first divided the land into 



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