_The Honeysuckle Porch._
MISS VILDA DECIDES THAT TWO IS ONE TOO MANY, AND TIMOTHY BREAKS A
HUMMINGBIRD'S EGG.
It was a drowsy afternoon. The grasshoppers chirped lazily in the warm
grasses, and the toads blinked sleepily under the shadows of the steps,
scarcely snapping at the flies as they danced by on silver wings. Down
in the old garden the still pools, in which the laughing brook rested
itself here and there, shone like glass under the strong beams of the
sun, and the baby horned-pouts rustled their whiskers drowsily and
scarcely stirred the water as they glided slowly through its crystal
depths.
The air was fragrant with the odor of new-mown grass and the breath of
wild strawberries that had fallen under the sickle, to make the sweet
hay sweeter with their crimson juices. The whir of the scythes and the
clatter of the mowing machine came from the distant meadows. Field mice
and ground sparrows were aware that it probably was all up with their
little summer residences, for haying time was at its height, and the
Giant, mounted on the Avenging Chariot, would speedily make his
appearance, and buttercups and daisies, tufted grasses and blossoming
weeds, must all bow their heads before him, and if there was anything
more valuable hidden at their roots, so much the worse!
And if a bird or a mouse had been especially far-sighted and had located
his family near a stump fence on a particularly uneven bit of ground,
why there was always a walking Giant going about the edges with a
gleaming scythe, so that it was no wonder, when reflecting on these
matters after a day's palpitation, that the little denizens of the
fields thought it very natural that there should be Nihilists and
Socialists in the world, plotting to overturn monopolies and other
gigantic schemes for crushing the people.
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