THE WOODSHED 



consist ? As we grow older we demand novelty, but to a child all 

 life is so novel, perhaps, that his imagination, not being bounded by 

 judgment or experience, darts off at all sorts of unexpected angles 

 and consequently finds new food for thought in the elements of the 

 same old story. Or is it because the child really grasps more of the 

 meaning at each repetition ? I sometimes doubt if children care 

 so- much for the meaning of words; it is rather the sound which 

 pleases them, as witness the enchanting effects of the Mother Goose 

 jingles. Did you ever repeat a rhyme in a strange tongue to a small 

 child ? Try it and see what surprised joy it brings. 



One quaint little chap always called our pergola, "the Purga- 

 tory," not that he had any unhappy associations connected with 

 it, or meant to cast any reflections upon it; indeed I doubt very 

 much whether he knew the meaning of the word, but he preferred 

 its more resonant cadence. 



How many children have played Robinson Crusoe in our wood- 

 shed and made wonderful discoveries of treasure in its dark corners ! 

 The sun poured upon the w r estern side of the shed, where it faced 

 the berry-garden, and a great patch of mint close to the hospitable 

 entrance mingled its perfume with the sweet scent of the freshly 

 cut wood. Swallows made their homes under the wide-spreading 

 eaves and circled in endless curves above its hospitable roof; robins 

 and phcebes appropriated the protected ledges, and a trusting yellow 

 warbler built her nest in an adjacent low thicket. This particular 



bird had a hard time getting settled one year. When she had nearly 



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