MY VINEYARD. 117 



before I felt crowded in my new abode. My roots had 

 nearly filled the pot, so that there was hardly a chance to 

 stir. This inconvenience had not lasted long, when the 

 inevitable Patrick, whom I had learned to look upon with 

 some degree of favor, took me out and placed me in a 

 larger pot. This was a sensible operation, as I had out- 

 grown the old one much as a school boy outgrows a pair 

 of shoes. 



In my new abode I continued to grow strong and vig- 

 orous. It was not long, however, before spring arrived. 

 I w^as now taken from the pot and placed with a great 

 inimber of companions in a bed out of doors. This bed 

 had been j)repared w^ith the greatest care. It was mellow, 

 and dry and warm, and the supply of food was so abun- 

 dant that it required no great exertion to get all we wanted. 



On the whole w^e passed the summer very pleasantly. 

 They gave us but little care, and I should say that we did 

 not need more, because many of us were at least five feet 

 tall at the close of the season. When we were planted, 

 they gave us a good mulching of coarse barn-yard manure, 

 and then let us shift for ourselves, except that they pulled 

 out a few large weeds which made a very obvious display 

 of large capacities for stealing our food. At the approach 

 of cold weather they cut us all down to about four buds, 

 dug us out of the bed, and heeled us in, covering us after- 

 wards entirely with earth. 



Early next spring, some of us were taken out, packed 



