Within My Garden Walls 41 
gift was repeated and highly appreciated—by myself. There 
is a yearly crop of new books on Greece, and I confine my 
souvenirs to Adam to them, for I notice that they elicit a 
broader and more permanent smile than does any thing else 
that I choose, and he never innocently asks me a few days 
later, “Who gave you that?” as he has been known to do 
about other tokens of affection which I have presented. Iam 
always a bit embarrassed at his laying the burden of posses- 
sion on me, when it happens to be my gift to him, prayerfully 
selected and done up in the whitest of tissue paper and the 
palest of blue ribbons, with a sweet little sentiment inside; but 
he never feels embarrassment over his mistake—he simply 
laughs and leaves me to ponder why my gifts make no perma- 
nent impression on his memory. Perhaps the male brain is 
not developed in appreciation, and we must not be too hard on 
mental or physical incapacities. 
As I have not yet arrived at the age when birthdays no 
longer recur, I have gradually acquired large additions to my 
stock, and each year witnesses an extension of my territory. 
The garden has crept up both banks until it is now one hun- 
dred and twenty feet by sixty, and has almost reached the 
house on the east side. Wherever it has been possible I have 
given beds the protection of a stone wall from two to three feet 
high and the advantages of a wall are so great that I must 
dwell a moment on the subject, for it has a much wider appli- 
cation than merely to my own use. In choosing the site of a 
country house, one naturally selects an eminence, for the sake 
of outlook, drainage and other considerations. New England 
abounds in such sites, but these same eminences are full of 
rocks and ledges; the soil is usually poor compared with low- 
lying lands, and the question how to make things grow near 
the house on a hot, dry, stony hillside becomes a serious prob- 
lem. For this reason my solution of this particular difficulty 
