able to give him the owls he has so often said he would like to have,
and how sorry I was they were gone, and how grievous the death of one,
and so on after the voluble manner of women.

He listened till I paused to breathe, and then he said, "I am
surprised at such cruelty. How could you make the mother owl suffer so?
She had never done you any harm."

Which sent me out of the house and into the garden more convinced
than ever that he sang true who sang--

Two paradises 'twere in one to live in Paradise alone.


May 16th.--The garden is the place I go to for refuge
and shelter, not the house. In the house are duties and annoyances,
servants to exhort and admonish, furniture, and meals;
but out there blessings crowd round me at every step--
it is there that I am sorry for the unkindness in me,
for those selfish thoughts that are so much worse than they feel;
it is there that all my sins and silliness are forgiven,
there that I feel protected and at home, and every flower
and weed is a friend and every tree a lover. When I have been
vexed I run out to them for comfort, and when I have been
angry without just cause, it is there that I find absolution.
Did ever a woman have so many friends? And always the same,
always ready to welcome me and fill me with cheerful thoughts.
Happy children of a common Father, why should I, their own sister,
be less content and joyous than they? Even in a thunder storm,
when other people are running into the house, I run out of it.