hought! The mind broods like a hen on eggs.
The trouble is, that you are not thinking about anything, but are really
vegetating like the plants around you. I begin to know what the joy of
the grape-vine is in running up the trellis, which is similar to that of
the squirrel in running up a tree. We all have something in our nature
that requires contact with the earth. In the solitude of garden-labor,
one gets into a sort of communion with the vegetable life, which makes
the old mythology possible. For instance, I can believe that the dryads
are plenty this summer: my garden is like an ash-heap. Almost all the
moisture it has had in weeks has been the sweat of honest industry.

The pleasure of gardening in these days, when the thermometer is at
ninety, is one that I fear I shall not be able to make intelligible to
my readers, many of whom do not appreciate the delight of soaking in
the sunshine. I suppose that the sun, going through a man, as it will
on such a day, takes out of him rheumatism, consumption, and every other
disease, except sudden death--from sun-stroke. But, aside from this,
there is an odor from the evergreens, the hedges, the various plants
and vines, that is only expressed and set afloat at a high temperature,
which is delicious; and, hot as it may be, a little breeze will come
at intervals, which can be heard in the treetops, and which is an
unobtrusive benediction. I hear a quail or two whistling in the ravine;
and there is a good deal of fragmentary conversation going on among
the birds, even on the warmest days. The companionship of Calvin, also,
counts for a good deal. He usually attends me, unless I work too long
in one place; sitting down on the turf, displaying the ermine of his
breast, and watching my movements with great intelligence. He has a
feline and genuine love for the beauties of Nature, and will establish
himself where there is a good view, and look on it for hours. He always
accompanies us when we go to gather the vegetables, seeming to be
desirous to know what we are to have for dinner. He is a connoisseur
in the garden; being fond of almost all the vegetables, except the
cucumber,--a dietetic hint to man. I believe it is also said that the
pig will not eat tobacco. These are important facts. It is singular,
however, that those who hold up the pigs as models to us never hold us
up as models to the pigs.

I wish I knew as much about natural history and the habits of animals
as Calvin