The Squire’s Garden
BEFORE I went to Bed, I peeped out of my Window, and saw the full Moon shining over the broad gravel Walks and Fishponds; and I thought how much I should like to go round the Garden before Breakfast. However, when I woke in the Morning, I feared I had been oversleeping myself, so dressed in a great Hurry, and went down Stairs. There I found two Maids flooding the great Hall with Pails of Water, and they told me we were to breakfast in the green Parlour, but not for an Hour yet. So I strayed out into the Garden, where were still a good many Flowers, though the Season was so late, backed by Evergreen Hedges, and Rows of tall Trees that were turning yellow and scarlet; and it seemed to me just like the Garden of Eden.
So I went on and on, thinking it mighty pleasant, and wondering what might be the Names of some of the Flowers; and at length I came to a Bowling-green, of wonderful fine Turf, between high Horn-beam Hedges; and having a Sun-dial at one End, and a little brick Summer-house faced with Stone at the other. Into the Summer-house I went; and there, with all his Books and Papers about him, sat Master Blower writing.
A Bowling-Green of wonderful Fine Turf.
“Ah, Cherry!” says he, holding out his Hand, “so you’ve found out my Snuggery! Have they sent you to summon me to Breakfast?”
“No, Sir,” said I, “I did not know you were here.” And turned away.
“Stop a Minute,” says he, hastily putting up his Papers, “and we will take a Turn together round this wonderful Garden. The Garden of your Dream, Cherry.”
I said how very odd it was I should have dreamed about it,—the Garden of my Dream being so exactly like the Reality.