CHAPTER VII. 



THE OLD ORCHARD. 



We love the old orchard; it is always full 

 of life and interest, summer and winter, day 

 and night. So do the birds enjoy it, who most, 

 they or we, 'twere hard to tell. They live in 

 it for months each year, here they lunch on the 

 choicest tid-bits, sing their songs, court their 

 mates, build their nests, rear their young, fight 

 their battles and are at the full of happiness. 

 What a charming spot it is for the grandchil- 

 dren; they fairly own it judging from over- 

 heard snatches of talk, they surely boss it — 

 but it enterprises them and we are content. 

 How they do race Lionel among the trees, 

 playing "tag" and "I spy," and strange 

 to say the birds are not at all disturbed 

 by this extra fun, in fact they seem to 

 enjoy it all and oft fly with them. Bettie said 

 the other day, after being called three times to 

 dinner, as her only apology for being late, "I 

 could just live out in that dear old orchard"; 

 she was not reprimanded. 



We did not plant the orchard. Dr. Pel- 

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