man, 'less he takes advice ev'ry day from the great Father of all. They's witches ev'rywhere, an' they're always lookin' fer a hoss to ride.” “See here,” said he, as soon as he discovered us, “you must all come out an' look at my garden.” “They want to rest,” Elizabeth objected. “No; we'd rather go with Uncle Eb,” said Hope, and we followed him to the garden. “Godfrey cordial! hear the birds!” Uncle Eb went on, as we took the path that crossed an edge of the clover meadow. “Lot of 'em been gettin' married, I guess. Don't do a thing but sing an' laugh an' holler—like a lot o' boys an' gals.” His strength had failed since we saw 8023 him last. He was bent a little farther, his hands trembled, a small task affected his breathing, but he was the same cheerful, keen-minded man. “Gardens are all right, but the sight of a hoe makes me shudder,” said I. “The hoe is a good teacher,” he answered. “Man that don't hoe his character ev'ry few days won't have any.” “My wife hoes mine,” I said. “An' does it kind o' careless.” He drew his hand over his mouth and cleared his throat and went on as if nothing had happened. “These things are a good deal like folks. Some grow up an' some grow down. I used to know a woman that looked like a turnip, and a gal that was like a flower, an' another that was like a pepper-plant, an' a man that was a reg'lar human onion.” 8024 “A garden always reminds me that it's about time to get your hook and line ready,” I suggested. He stopped and put his hand upon my arm. He glanced up at the sky, and seemed to note the direction of the wind. “Say, by mighty!” he exclaimed. “You stop, or you'll make trouble.” “Think of Paradise Valley,” I went on. “It will be green and sprinkled with blossoms, and the brook will be singing as it goes by.” “You quit!” he answered, with a little gesture of impatience. “Say!” he suggested, with enthusiasm, after a moment, “I wouldn't wonder but what the fish would bite—ye take it on the rapids there.” We returned to the house and he sat in his chair on the small veranda. 8025 Robins were building their nest on a shelf near him, and were busy with their fetching and weaving. “Look at the scalawags!” he laughed. “No, there ain't nothin' that's 'fraid o' me some way. I got a club one day an' tried to scare a mouse; but seems so she knew I was only foolin'. Now she's begun to bully me an' fetch her children right into my bedroom, an' I guess I'll have to git mad an' declare war.” I hailed a boy in the street, and sent him for a team, to be brought immediately after dinner. When we sat down to eat, Uncle Eb put the same old question: “Wal, how's ev'rything down there in the city?” “About as usual.” “Too many folks there,” he said, 8026