LETTER XXVII. 



THE CHILDISH THEFT — ItETRIBUTION. 



One day, a child came into my garden; he surrounded 

 a space of about a foot square with sticks ; then he gathered 

 some roses, and planted them, by sticking the stalks in the 

 ground. He did the same by a very fine, pink. 



When I returned, I felt a sensation of impatience, and if 

 the child had been there, it is probable that I should have 

 scolded him severely; but he was gone, happily for him, 

 because I should have frightened him, and happily for myself, 

 because I should have certainly said many foolish things. 



Not seeing him, I reflected a little, and remembered two 

 things. The first is, that I do exactly what this child has 

 done. Before I had a garden of my own, I walked freely in 

 the woods, on the banks of rivers, on the shores of the sea. 

 One day I bought myself a large plot of ground, which I sur- 

 rounded with stones in the form of a wall; and I planted in 



