112 THE DAILY LIFE OF OUR FARM. 



attain their full growth, and being thickly strewn with 

 the yellow dust, overhang the pistil, whose opening 

 they await until the least gust of wind shakes a shower 

 over it, that is most certain to adhere on the sticky 

 surface ; or a bee, with his hairy legs and ecstatic 

 movements, does the same service. Old Melon is de- 

 lighted, and thinks me a mighty genius for my pains. 

 His imagination had never wandered forward from the 

 common practice of the hot-bed and cucumber frame to 

 the like mysteries of greenhouse cultivation. 



There was a loud chattering and avine scrimmage 

 the other morning upon the lawn, when a villain of a 

 jay came and dived into the dark recesses of an Irish 

 yew, quite near to the house, and whipped off the 

 frequently-inspected eggs of one of the children's nests. 

 They have ever such a number of them everywhere 

 about, of which one little boy, I think, almost dreams. 

 They are not allowed to take any except the black- 

 bird's. I found, however, the other day, a " collection " 

 of eggs, blown and laid carefully upon bran, in an old 

 toy-box. Of course, this would not do, being nothing 

 less than open mutiny. On inquiry, however, I found 

 that mamma had been a party to the transgression, 

 inasmuch as she could not resist one youngster's argu- 

 ment, that he was sure that it made the birds indus- 

 trious to take toll of a solitary egg. It was impossible 

 for her, without injury to the youthful mind, to 

 condemn any move that fostered industry ; so the 

 youngster innocently triumphed. To return, however^ 

 to the jay : the children have several times since the 

 fracas found an egg laid in a flower-bed or on the grass- 

 plot — once that of the missel -thrush, once that of the 

 turtle-dove. Their idea is that the jay has dropped 



