66 MY SUMMER IN A GARDEN. 



EIGHTH WEEK. 



MY garden has been visited by a High 

 Official Person. President Gr nt was here 

 just before the Fourth, getting his mind 

 quiet for that event by a few days of retire- 

 ment, staying with a friend at the head of 

 our street ; and I asked him if he would n't 

 like to come down our way Sunday after- 

 noon, and take a plain, simple look at my 

 garden, eat a little lemon ice-cream and 

 jelly-cake, and drink a glass of native lager- 

 beer. I thought of putting up over my gate, 

 " Welcome to the Nation's Gardener ; " but 

 I hate nonsense, and did n't do it. I, how- 

 ever, hoed diligently on Saturday: what 

 weeds I could n't remove I buried, so that 

 everything would look all right. The bor- 

 ders of my drive were trimmed with scissors ; 

 and everything that could offend the Eye 

 of the Great was hustled out of the way. 



