88 THE GARDEN OF A 



her garden, and it made such things the rage. I 

 read it all through, thinking I'd get a great many 

 swagger points, but I didn't, that is, not on gar- 

 dening; but she was so chic, just did everything she 

 wanted to and never got rattled, and her house ran 

 itself, except giving out the sausages, and she 

 only looked at them. Her husband didn't count 

 for much more than furniture, for he liked cab- 

 bages and wouldn't dance, so how could he? But 

 the children were so useful always said some- 

 thing bright at the right time. But then, she had 

 an unusual bringing-up and said her prayers in 

 French while her mother went to parties, so 

 you'd expect she'd be different. 



" Now you'll be right in it and not thought so 

 queer as once. And as for birds, bird study's all 

 the rage. I've stopped wearing feathers anyway 

 until the excitement dies down. We've stopped 

 driving birds out of the fruit, and put up boxes to 

 draw them. They won't come in them, though, 

 because your father says the rooms aren't separate 

 and the openings draw a draft through. Though 

 I call that going a little too far, as if birds that fly 

 all day in the air can't stand a draft at night. In 

 the spring when we return here I'm going to have 

 a bird class, and a professor to take us out and 

 point out the birds. 



