which had once been trimmed and trained into fanciful points and
tufts and convolutions of verdure, had grown into misshapen clumps;
and the white, pebbly walks no longer sparkled in the sunlight.

Still Miss Matilda, by the aid of Methuselah, in appearance almost
as ancient as we may suppose his namesake to have been, found great
pleasure in cultivating her flower-beds; and every year, her crocuses
and hyacinths, crown-imperials and tulips, pinks, lilies, and roses,
none the less beautiful because they are so commonly enjoyed,
gave a cheerful aspect to the place.

Her numerous pets made the house equally bright and pleasant.
There was Sir Walter Raleigh, the dog, and Mrs. Felina, the great,
splendid, Maltese mother of three beautiful blue kittens; Jack and Gill,
the gentle, soft-toned Java sparrows; and Ruby, the unwearying
canary singer, always in loud and uninterpretable conversation with
San Rosa, the mocking-bird. The birds hung in the broad, deep window
of the sitting-room, in the shade of the jasmine and honeysuckle
vines that embowered it and filled the air with delicious perfume.
The dog and cat, when not inclined to active enjoyments,
were accommodated with comfortable beds in the adjoining apartment,
which was the sleeping-room of their mistress.

The new household pet became an occupant of this same room.

"Laws, now, Miss Tilda, ye a'n't gwine to put de chile in ther wid
all de dogs and cats, now. 'Pears ye might have company enough o'
nights widout takin' in a cryin' baby. She'll cry sure widout
her mammy, and what ye gwine to do thin?" and old Rosa stoutly
protested against the arrangement.