200 MY GARDEN 



no means come at her single-handed. If harassed on 

 the open border she betaketh herself to trees, and, 

 from the boughs thereof, uttereth scorn of her 

 pursuers. As the boy, so she also courteth the 

 society of lesser vertebrates, and may oftentimes be 

 seen at twilight leading forth coneys, caveys, and 

 white rats to take their ease upon the borders when 

 the guardian of the same hath made an end of his 

 toil. For many years she persisteth in these ways, 

 yet a time shall arrive when her hair goeth up and 

 her frock cometh down. Thereupon she is translated 

 in the twinkling of an eye, and haunteth the garden 

 close no more. 



Aristotle has affirmed concerning boys and girls that 

 they are prone to pity, an assertion that may with 

 deference be questioned; but he also saith that our 

 young ones do push everything to an excess ; and 

 this I hold to be indubitably true. There is no cure 

 for the human boy save time. Then, by exceeding 

 slow stages, he groweth into the adult organism, and 

 either turneth from his mysterious courses toward 

 justification of existence, or else, as too often hap- 

 peneth, doth wax in wickedness, as well as in the 

 power to perform it. 



There are other banes of the garden, and some 

 have been already mentioned, but, perhaps excepting 

 a garden party, none can compare with these de- 

 scribed. It was a hope of mine to devote a whole 

 chapter to the subject ; but here is the end of my 

 little book, while half a hundred matters still clamour 

 to be discussed. I was just getting into my stride, to 



