"Yes," she said, "and the Rev. Blackbird the precentor."
We laughed over our silliness!
Shrew-mice pattered over the dead leaves and one came boldly into view under a bramble bush—she had never seen one before. Overhead, a ribald fellow of a Blackbird whistled a jaunty tune. E—— laughed. "I am sure that Blackbird is laughing at us," she said. "It makes me feel quite hot."
This evening we sat on the slope of a big field where by lowering our eyes we could see the sun setting behind the grass blades—a very pretty sight which I do not remember ever to have noted before. A large blue Carabus beetle was stumbling about, Culvers cooed in the woods near by. It was delightful to be up 600 feet on a grassy field under the shadow of a large wood at sunset with my darling.
May 31.
Sitting at tea in the farm house to-day E—— cried suddenly, pointing to a sandy cat in the garden:
"There,—he's the father of the little kittens in the barn and I'll tell you how we know. P—— noticed the kittens had big feet and later on saw that old Tom stalking across the garden with big feet of exactly the same kind."
"So you impute the paternity of the kittens to the gentleman under the laurel bushes?"
I looked at the kittens to-night and found they had extra toes. "Mr. Sixtoes," as W—— calls him also possesses six toes, so the circumstantial evidence looks black against him.