ed from behind the blinds.

"The wonder was not yet quite gone
From that still look of hers,"

when an armed man and a legged dog appeared in the opening. I was
vigilantly watching him.

.... "And now
She spoke through the still weather."

"Are you afraid to speak to him?" asked Polly.

Not exactly,

...."she spoke as when
The stars sang in their spheres.

"Stung by this inquiry, I leaned out of the window till

"The bar I leaned on (was) warm,"

and cried,-- "Halloo, there! What are you doing?"

"Look out he don't shoot you," called out Polly from the other window,
suddenly going on another tack.

I explained that a sportsman would not be likely to shoot a gentleman in
his own house, with bird-shot, so long as quails were to be had.

"You have no business here: what are you after?" I repeated.

"Looking for a lost hen," said the man as he strode away.

The reply was so satisfactory and conclusive that I shut the blinds and
went to bed.

But one evening I overhauled one of the poachers. Hearing his dog in the
thicket, I rushed through the brush, and came in sight of the hunter
as he was retreating down the road. He came to a halt; and we had some
conversation in a high key. Of course I threatened to prosecute him. I
believe that is the thing to do in such cases; but how I was to do it,
when I did not know his name or ancestry, and couldn't see his face,
never occurred to me. (I remember, now, that a farmer once proposed to
prosecute me when I was fishing in a trout-brook on his farm, and asked
my name for that purpose.) He said he should smile to see me prosecute
him.

"You can't do it: there ain't no notice up about trespassing."

This view of the common law impressed me; and I said,

"But these are private grounds."

"Private h---!" was all his response.

You can't argue much with a man who has a gun in his hands, when you
have none. Besides, it might be a needle-gun, for aught I knew. I gave
it up, and we separated.

There is this disadvantage about having a game preserve attached to your
garden: it makes life too lively.

FOURTEENTH WEEK

In these golden latter August days, Nature has come to a serene
equilibrium. Having flowered and fruited, she is enjoying herself. I can
see how things are going: it is a down-hill business after this; but,
for the time being, it is like swinging in a hammock,--such a delicious
air, such a graceful repose! I take off my hat