300 THE FAT OF THE LAND 
pergola, walls, and garden. She bought the sun- 
dial with her own money, I am thankful to say, 
and it doesn’t enter into this account. I think 
it must have cost a pretty penny, for she had a 
hat “made over” that spring. 
Polly has planted the lawn with a lot of shade 
trees and shrubs, and has added some clumps of 
fruit trees. Few trees have been planted near 
the house; the four fine oaks, from which we 
take our name, stand without rivals and give 
ample shade. The great black oak near the east 
end of the porch is a tower of strength and 
beauty, which is “seen and known of all men,” 
while the three white oaks farther to the west 
form a clump which casts a grateful shade when 
the sun begins to decline. The seven acres of 
forest to the east is left severely alone, save 
where the carriage drive winds through it, and 
Polly watches so closely that the foot of the 
Philistine rarely crushes her wild flowers. Its 
sacredness recalls the schoolgirl’s definition of a 
virgin forest: “One in which the hand of man 
has never dared to put his foot into it.” Polly 
wanders in this grove for hours; but then she — 
knows where and how things grow, and her _ 
footsteps are followed by flowers. If by chance 
she brushes one down, it rises at once, shakes off 
the dust, and says, “I ought to have known 
better than to wander so far from home.” 
She keeps a wise eye on the vegetable garden, 
too, and has stores of knowledge as to seed-time 
