rubbering around to look it over. He was all swelled up over being
elected Mayor, and he dropped in the hammock with a splash. Ten
seconds later the rope exploded and Uncle Peter made a deep
impression on the stone porch.

Every mosquito in the neighborhood rushed to his assistance and
tried to lift him up with their teeth.

Then Uncle Peter ran home and told Aunt Martha that Cinders, our
bulldog, had tried to bite him.

The national emblem of the commuter is the lawn-mower.

The lawn-mower was invented originally for the purpose of giving
the lawn a quick shave, and because it can't talk like a barber it
makes a noise like the fall of Port Arthur.

I remember the first day I decided I would trim the vandyke beard
on our lawn. Of course I got all mine, and I got it good. The
result will always live in history side by side with the battle of
Gettysburg.

The lawn-mower was sleeping peacefully in the barn when I rushed in
and dragged it shriekingly from its slumbers.

Perhaps it was because I forgot to lather the lawn, but any way it
was the hardest shave I ever had anything to do with.

That lawn-mower began to complain so loudly that the neighbors for
miles around rushed to the rock pile and armed themselves for the