at anything till he caught sight of her feet. Then he went to the
end of the log, and whistled like a steamboat, and began to hack
down in that direction, calling out to her: 'Take your toes out of
the way, Georgiana. I am coming down the river. The current is
up and I can't stop.' 'My toes were there first,' said Georgiana,
and went on eating her biscuit. 'Take them out of the way, I tell
you,' he shouted as he came nearer, 'or they'll get cut off.' 'They
were there first,' repeated Georgiana, and took another delicious
nibble. Joe cut straight along, and went whack right into her five
toes. Georgiana screamed with all her might, but she held her foot
on the log, till Joe dropped the hatchet with horror, and caught
her in his arms. 'Georgiana, I _told_ you to take your toes away,'
he cried; 'you are such a little fool,' and ran with her to the
house. But she always had control over him after that."

To-day I saw Sylvia enter the arbor, and shortly afterwards I
followed with a book.

"When you stop reading novels and begin to read history, Miss
Sylvia, here is the most remarkable history of Kentucky that was
ever written or ever will be. It is by my father's old teacher of
natural history in Transylvania University, Professor Rafinesque,
who also had a wonderful botanical garden on this side of the town;
perhaps the first ever seen in this country."

"I know all about it," replied Sylvia, resenting this slight
upon her erudition. "Georgiana has my father's copy, and his was
presented to him by Mr. Audubon."

"Audubon?" I said, with a doubt.