SUMMER IN A BOG. 41 



"He run you!" 



"Yes; an' I run jest as hard ez I could to 

 git away, but jest as I dumb the fence he got 

 there an' knocked me down." 



"Knocked you down! What did he do that 

 for? What harm was there in taking a short 

 cut across his precious old field? I never!! 

 What with their barbed wire fences and hedges, 

 we have to keep on the dusty roads more and 

 more!" Difficulties I had met in pursuing 

 botanical research here rose to remembrance, 

 and discontents over fences aroused my sym- 

 pathy for the old woman's wrongs. "But to 

 run you down ! and knock you off the fence ! — 

 that 's a new one. When did he take to carry- 

 ing on like that?" 



"Oh, ye know," extenuatingly, which puz- 

 zled me, "ez he grows older he gits more per- 

 nickety. He hain 't never been so orful gentle. ' ' 



"Why do n't they shut him up, or send him 

 to a sanatorium. He needs treatment. There 's 

 money enough and to spare in all that land 

 that might be used to bring him around again 

 so he 'd act right." 



"Huh!" Did she doubt my advice? It 

 seemed so. "Huh! They all act that>a-way 

 now an' then, ye know. An' they do shut him 

 up in the stable now an' then, but I do n't see 

 ez it betters him much. It aggerwates him, I 'm 

 thinkin'." 



