IN THE POULTRY YARD. a4 
been already. found—and moved all our goods and chattels on to 
the place. Some were stored in the barn, others were put to im- 
mediate use, and others were stored in vacant rooms. I was 
enabled to aid my friends materially in packing up; the work on 
the place went on smoothly, and ere long it was time for the 
Browns to depart for their distant home. Mr. Brown had returned 
and finished packing: Most of his goods had been sent to the 
railroad depot and others stowed away in the barn until it suited 
his convenience to send for them. At last the day arrived’ when 
I was to drive them over to the depot, and that day I shall never 
forget. As may readily be imagined the children had become 
deeply attached to every animal and almost to every plant on the 
place. The horse, the cow, even the chickens, were all old friends, 
and the parting was painful to the last degree. But it ended at 
last, and we left Ferniebield in anything but a joyous mood. A 
short drive brought us to the neighboring station; the train rolled 
ott of the depot and I returned to my new home—sad, it is true, 
but with a very different feeling from that which I had hitherto 
entertained. I now felt that I was absolute master and owner of 
the place. So long as the original owner remained I could not get 
rid of a feeling that I was subordinate to him. But now I was not 
only sole possessor but sole occupier, and after unharnessing the 
mare and tying her in her stall, I walked over the grounds and ex- 
amined them as I had never done before. 
The weather had become settled and warm, and the plants were 
developing with spring-tide vigor and rapidity. The garden, which 
had been the pride of Mrs. Brown’s heart, was as yet almost un- 
touched by spade or hoe, for the pressure of. other things ‘had pre- 
vented attention to aught exc2pt the useful. A few early vegetables 
had been planted, but that was all; but the o.a plants were spring- 
ing up everywhere, as if looking for their lost mistress, and wonder- 
ing where was the careful and tender hand that had always hitherto 
guided their wayward growth. It was late in the season to begin 
gardening; the buds on the vines had swollen, but the rampant 
growth of the previous year still hung untouched upon the. trellises. 
Other plants showed the same neglected condition, and I turned 
