THE SORT OF LIFE WE LEAD. 2/ 



time the ground is well frozen. Wrote after 

 luncheon from one to three o'clock. Started 

 out at three for the woods with the children, 

 and went two miles to chop down some pines 

 that we can have for almost nothing for fire- 

 wood. Cut up enough to make a quarter of a 

 cord, I should think, and got back at sundown 

 with enough twigs to make kindling for a week. 

 When my neighbor B. gets ready next month 

 to haul our wood-pile home, he will find that 

 my axe has been kept sharp. The day ended 

 with a splendid break of sunshine, the pink of 

 the whole west presaging the coming autumn. 

 Every blow of the axe seems to bring up pic- 

 tures of what glorious good fires these pine 

 logs will make for us. On the way home 

 stopped for the mail, a bundle of books 

 coming from the library. After dinner read 

 some sketches of Henry James, published in 

 the old Galaxy years ago, which E. sends us as 

 worth reading. They have all James* present 

 subtlety with the picturesque quality that he 

 appears to have lost in some degree, judging 

 from his recent French studies. 



Tuesday. Hard work in the garden before 

 breakfast and until ten o'clock. Hoed up all 

 the bean plants and planted late carrots ; doubt- 

 ful if they come to much so late, but worth 

 trying. Had to branch up some of the tomato 

 vines, which were too heavy for the twigs al- 

 ready under them. Yesterday's rain seems to 



