An unusual variety of trees, hundreds of white birches greatly adding to the beauty of the place, growing in picturesque clumps of family groups and their white bark, especially white.

  [Illustration:  HOW VINES GROW AT BREEZY MEADOWS]

Two granite quarries, the black and white, and an exquisite pink, and we drive daily over long stretches of solid rock, going down two or three hundred feet—­But I shall never explore these for illusive wealth.

A large chestnut grove through which my foreman has made four excellent roads.  Two fascinating brooks, with forget-me-nots, blue-eyed and smiling in the water, and the brilliant cardinal-flower on the banks in the late autumn.

From a profusion of wild flowers I especially remark the moccasin-flower or stemless lady’s-slipper.

My Nature’s Garden says—­“Because most people cannot forbear picking this exquisite flower that seems too beautiful to be found outside a millionaire’s hothouse, it is becoming rarer every year, until the picking of one in the deep forest where it must now hide, has become the event of a day’s walk.”  Nearly 300 of this orchid were found in our wooded garden this season.

In the early spring, several deer are seen crossing the field just a little distance from the house.  They like to drink at the brooks and nip off the buds of the lilac trees.  Foxes, alas, abound.

Pheasants, quail, partridges are quite tame, perhaps because we feed them in winter.

I found untold bushes of the blueberry and huckleberry, also enough cranberries in the swamp to supply our own table and sell some.  Wild grape-vines festoon trees by the brooks.

Barberries, a dozen bushes of these which are very decorative, and their fruit if skilfully mixed with raisins make a foreign-tasting and delicious conserve.

We have the otter and mink, and wild ducks winter in our brooks.  Large birds like the heron and rail appear but rarely; ugly looking and fierce.

The hateful English sparrow has been so reduced in numbers by sparrow traps that now they keep away and the bluebirds take their own boxes again.  The place is a safe and happy haven for hosts of birds.

I have a circle of houses for the martins and swallows and wires connecting them, where a deal of gossip goes on.

The pigeons coo-oo-o on the barn roof and are occasionally utilized in a pie, good too!

  [Illustration:  GRAND ELM
   (OVER TWO HUNDRED YEARS OLD)]

     “I wonder how my great trees are coming on this summer.”

     “Where are your trees, Sir?” said the divinity student.