a　keyhole　and　see　the　dauntless　little　lady；　terrible　in　her　wrath　and　dignity；　standing　on　tiptoe　to　box　the　ears　of　some　great　strapping　girl　big　enough　to　eat　her。
  The　making　of　cheese　and　butter　and　sausages　_excellently_　well　is　a　work　which　requires　brains；　and　is；　to　my　thinking；　a　very　admirable　form　of　activity；　and　entirely　worthy　of　the　attention　of　the　intelligent。　That　my　neighbour　is　intelligent　is　at　once　made　evident　by　the　bright　alertness　of　her　eyeseyes　that　nothing　escapes；　and　that　only　gain　in　prettiness　by　being　used　to　some　good　purpose。　She　is　a　recognised　authority　for　miles　around　on　the　mysteries　of　sausage…making；　the　care　of　calves；　and　the　slaughtering　of　swine；　and　with　all　her　manifold　duties　and　daily　prolonged　absences　from　home；　her　children　are　patterns　of　health　and　neatness；　and　of　what　dear　little　German　children；　with　white　pigtails　and　fearless　eyes　and　thick　legs；　should　be。　　Who　shall　say　that　such　a　life　is　sordid　and　dull　and　unworthy　of　a　high　order　of　intelligence？　　I　protest　that　to　me　it　is　a　beautiful　life；　full　of　wholesome　outdoor　work；　and　with　no　room　for　those　listless　moments　of　depression　and　boredom；　and　of　wondering　what　you　will　do　next；　that　leave　wrinkles　round　a　pretty　woman's　eyes；　and　are　not　unknown　even　to　the　most　brilliant。　But　while　admiring　my　neighbour；　I　don't　think　I　shall　ever　try　to　follow　in　her　steps；　my　talents　not　being　of　the　energetic　and　organising　variety；　but　rather　of　that　order　which　makes　their　owner　almost　lamentably　prone　to　take　up　a　volume　of　poetry　and　wander　out　to　where　the　kingcups　grow；　and；　sitting　on　a　willow　trunk　beside　a　little　stream；　forget　the　very　existence　of　everything　but　green　pastures　and　still　waters；　and　the　glad　blowing　of　the　wind　across　the　joyous　fields。　And　it　would　make　me　perfectly　wretched　to　be　confronted　by　ears　so　refractory　as　to　require　boxing。
  Sometimes　callers　from　a　distance　invade　my　solitude；　and　it　is　on　these　occasions　that　I　realise　how　absolutely　alone　each　individual　is；　and　how　far　away　from　his　neighbour；　and　while　they　talk　（generally　about　babies；　past；　present；　and　to　come）；　I　fall　to　wondering　at　the　vast　and　impassable　distance　that　separates　one's　own　soul　from　the　soul　of　the　person　sitting　in　the　next　chair。　I　am　speaking　of　comparative　strangers；　people　who　are　forced　to　stay　a　certain　time　by　the　eccentricities　of　trains；　and　in　whose　presence　you　grope　about　after　common　interests　and　shrink　back　into　your　shell　on　finding　that　you　have　none。　Then　a　frost　slowly　settles　down　on　me　and　I　grow　each　minute　more　benumbed　and　speechless；　and　the　babies　feel　the　frost　in　the　air　and　look　vacant；　and　the　callers　go　through　the　usual　form　of　wondering　who　they　most　take　after；　generally　settling　the　question　by　saying　that　the　May　baby；　who　is　the　beauty；　is　like　her　father；　and　that　the　two　more　or　less　plain　ones　are　the　image　of　me；　and　this　decision；　though　I　know　it　of　old　and　am　sure　it　is　coming；　never　fails　to　depress　me　as　much　as　though　I　heard　it　for　the　first　time。　The　babies　are　very　little　and　inoffensive　and　good；　and　it　is　hard　that　they　should　be　used　as　a　means　of　filling　up　gaps　in　conversation；　and　their　features　pulled　to　pieces　one　by　one；　and　all　their　weak　points　noted　and　criticised；　while　they　stand　smiling　shyly　in　the　operator's　face；　their　very　smile　drawing　forth　comments　on　the　shape　of　their　mouths；　but；　after　all；　it　does　not　occur　very　often；　and　they　are　one　of　those　few　interests　one　has　in　common　with　other　people；　as　everybody　seems　to　have　babies。　A　garden；　I　have　discovered；　is　by　no　means　a　fruitful　topic；　and　it　is　amazing　how　few　persons　really　love　theirsthey　all　pretend　they　do；　but　you　can　hear　by　the　very　tone　of　their　voice　what　a　lukewarm　affection　it　is。　　About　June　their　interest　is　at　its　warmest；　nourished　by　agreeable　supplies　of　strawberries　and　roses；　but　on　reflection　I　don't　know　a　single　person　within　twenty　miles　who　really　cares　for　his　garden；　or　has　discovered　the　treasures　of　happiness　that　are　buried　in　it；　and　are　to　be　found　if　sought　for　diligently；　and　if　needs　be　with　tears。　　　It　is　after　these　rare　calls　that　I　experience　the　only　moments　of　depression　from　which　I　ever　suffer；　and　then　I　am　angry　at　myself；　a　well…nourished　person；　for　allowing　even　a　single　precious　hour　of　life　to　be　spoil：　　by　anything　so　indifferent。　That　is　the　worst　of　being　fed　enough；　and　clothed　enough；　and　warmed　enough；　and　of　having　everything　you　can　reasonably　desire　on　the　least　provocation　you　are　made　uncomfortable　and　unhappy　by　such　abstract　discomforts　as　being　shut　out　from　a　nearer　approach　to　your　neighbour's　soul；　which　is　on　the　face　of　it　foolish；　the　probability　being　that　he　hasn't　got　one。
  The　rockets　are　all　out。　　The　gardener；　in　a　fit　of　inspiration；　put　them　right　along　the　very　front　of　two　borders；　and　I　don't　know　what　his　feelings　can　be　now　that　they　are　all　flowering　and　the　plants　behind　are　completely　hidden；　but　I　have　learned　another　lesson；　and　no　future　gardener　shall　be　allowed　to　run　riot　among　my　rockets　in　quite　so　reckless　a　fashion。　They　are　charming　things；　as　delicate　in　colour　as　in　scent；　and　a　bowl　of　them　on　my　writing…table　fills　the　room　with　fragrance。　Single　rows；　however；　are　a　mistake；　I　had　masses　of　them　planted　in　the　grass；　and　these　show　how　lovely　they　can　be。　A　border　full　of　rockets；　mauve　and　white；　and　nothing　else；　must　be　beautiful；　but　I　don't　know　how　long　they　last　nor　what　they　look　like　when　they　have　done　flowering。　This　I　shall　find　out　in　a　week　or　two；　I　suppose。　　Was　ever　a　would…be　gardener　left　so　entirely　to　his　own　blundering？　No　doubt　it　would　be　a　gain　of　years　to　the　garden　if　I　were　not　forced　to　learn　solely　by　my　failures；　and　if　I　had　some　kind　creature　to　tell　me　when　to　do　things。　At　present　the　only　flowers　in　the　garden　are　the　rockets；　the　pansies　in　the　rose　beds；　and　two　groups　of　azaleas　mollis　and　pontica。　　The　azaleas　have　been　and　still　are　gorgeous；　I　only　planted　them　this　spring　and　they　almost　at　once　began　to　flower；　and　the　sheltered　corner　they　are　in　looks　as　though　it　were　filled　with　imprisoned　and　perpetual　sunsets。　Orange；　lemon；　pink　in　every　delicate　shadewhat　they　will　be　next　year　and　in　succeeding　years　when　the　bushes　are　bigger；　I　can　imagine　from　the　way　they　have　begun　life。　On　gray；　dull　days　the　effect　is　absolutely　startling。　Next　autumn　I　shall　make　a　great　bank　of　them　in　front　of　a　belt　of　fir　trees　in　rather　a　gloomy　nook。　　My　tea…roses　are　covered　with　buds　which　will　not　open　for　at　least　another　week；　so　I　conclude　this　is　not　the　sort　of　climate　where　they　will　flower　from　the　very　beginning　of　June　to　November；　as　they　are　said　to　do。
  July　11th。There　has　been　no　rain　since　the　day　before　Whitsunday；　five　weeks　ago；　which　partly；　but　not　entirely；　accounts　for　the　disappointment　my　beds　have　been。　　The　dejected　gardener　went　mad　soon　after　Whitsuntide；　and　had　to　be　sent　to　an　asylum。　　He　took　to　going　about　with　a　spade　in　one　hand　and　a　revolver　in　the　other；　explaining　that　he　felt　safer　that　way；　and　we　bore　it　quite　patiently；　as　becomes　civilised　beings　who　respect　each　other's　prejudices；　until　one　day；　when　I　mildly　asked　him　to　tie　up　a　fallen　creeper　and　after　he　bought　the　revolver　my　tones　in　addressing　him　were　of　the　mildest；　and　I　quite　left　off　reading　to　him　aloud　he　turned　round；　looked　me　straight　in　the　face　for　the　first　time　since　he　has　been　here；　and　said；　〃Do　I　look　like　Graf　X…　（a　great　local　celebrity）；　or　like　a　monkey？〃　　After　which　there　was　nothing　for　it　but　to　get　him　into　an　asylum　as　expeditiously　as　possible。　There　was　no　gardener　to　be　had　in　his　place；　and　I　have　only　just　succeeded　in　getting　one；　so　that　what　with　the　drought；　and　the　neglect；　and　the　gardener's　madness；　and　my　blunders；　the　garden　is　in　a　sad　condition；　but　even　in　a　sad　condition　it　is　the　dearest　place　in　the　world；　and　all　my　mistakes　only　make　me　more　determined　to　persevere。
  The　long　borders；　where　the　rockets　were；　are　looking　dreadful。　The　rockets　have　done　flowering；　and；　after　the　manner　of　rockets：　in　other　walks　of　life；　have　degenerated　into　sticks；　and　nothing　else　in　those　borders　intends　to　bloom　this　summer。　The　giant　poppies　I　had　planted　out　in　them　in　April　have　either　died　off　or　remained　quite　small；　and　so　have　the　columbines；　here　and　there　a　delphinium　droops　unwillingly；　and　that　is　all。　I　suppose　poppies　cannot　stand　being　moved；　or　perhaps　they　were　not　watered　enough　at　the　time　of　transplanting；　anyhow；　those　borders　are　going　to　be　sown　to…morrow　with　more　poppies　for　next　year；　for　poppies　I　will　have；　whether　they　like　it　or　not；　and　they　shall　not　be　touched；　only　thinned　out。
  Well；　it　is　no　use　being　grieved；　and　after　all；　directly　I　come　out　and　sit　under　the　trees；　and　look　at　the　dappled　sky；　and　see　the　sunshine　on　the　cornfields　away　on　the　plain；　all　the　disappointment　smooths　itself　out；　and　it　seems　impossible　to　be　sad　and　discontented　when　everything　about　me　is　so　radiant　and　kind。
  To…day　is　Sunday；　and　the　garden　is　so　quiet；　that；　sitting　here　in　this　shady　corner　watching　the　lazy　shadows　stretching　themselves　across　the　grass；　and　listening　to　the