back, kleptomania with regard to new weeders; when I went into my garden I was always sure to see something.  In this disordered state of mind and body I got this hoe.  The morning after a day of using it I slept perfectly and late.  I regained my respect for the eighth commandment.  After two doses of the hoe in the garden, the weeds entirely disappeared.  Trying it a third morning, I was obliged to throw it over the fence in order to save from destruction the green things that ought to grow in the garden.  Of course, this is figurative language.  What I mean is, that the fascination of using this hoe is such that you are sorely tempted to employ it upon your vegetables, after the weeds are laid low, and must hastily withdraw it, to avoid unpleasant results.  I make this explanation, because I intend to put nothing into these agricultural papers that will not bear the strictest scientific investigation; nothing that the youngest child cannot understand and cry for; nothing that the oldest and wisest men will not need to study with care.

I need not add that the care of a garden with this hoe becomes the merest pastime.  I would not be without one for a single night.  The only danger is, that you may rather make an idol of the hoe, and somewhat neglect your garden in explaining it, and fooling about with it.  I almost think that, with one of these in the hands of an ordinary day-laborer, you might see at night where he had been working.

Let us have peas.  I have been a zealous advocate of the birds.  I have rejoiced in their multiplication.  I have endured their concerts at four o’clock in the morning without a murmur.  Let them come, I said, and eat the worms, in order that we, later, may enjoy the foliage and the fruits of the earth.  We have a cat, a magnificent animal, of the sex which votes (but not a pole-cat),—­so large and powerful that, if he were in the army, he would be called Long Tom.  He is a cat of fine disposition, the most irreproachable morals I ever saw thrown away in a cat, and a splendid hunter.  He spends his nights, not in social dissipation, but in gathering in rats, mice, flying-squirrels, and also birds.  When he first brought me a bird, I told him that it was wrong, and tried to convince him, while he was eating it, that he was doing wrong; for he is a reasonable cat, and understands pretty much everything except the binomial theorem and the time down the cycloidal arc.  But with no effect.  The killing of birds went on, to my great regret and shame.

The other day I went to my garden to get a mess of peas.  I had seen, the day before, that they were just ready to pick.  How I had lined the ground, planted, hoed, bushed them!  The bushes were very fine, —­seven feet high, and of good wood.  How I had delighted in the growing, the blowing, the podding!  What a touching thought it was that they had all podded for me!  When I went to pick them, I found the pods all split open, and the peas