I never saw my cousins again, and it was long before I saw any more
gipsies; for that day's adventure gave me a shock to which my children
owe the exceeding care and prudence that I display in the choice of our
summer homes and winter retreats, and in repressing every tendency to a
wandering disposition among the members of my family.




CHAPTER II.


That summer--I mean the summer when I had seven--we had the most
charming home imaginable. It was in a wood, and on that side of the wood
which is farthest from houses and highroads. Here it was bounded by a
brook, and beyond this lay a fine pasture field.

There are fields and fields. I never wish to know a better field than
this one. I seldom go out much till the evening, but if business should
take one along the hedge in the heat of the sun, there are as juicy and
refreshing crabs to be picked up under a tree about half-way down the
south side, as the thirstiest creature could desire.

And when the glare and drought of midday have given place to the mild
twilight of evening, and the grass is refreshingly damped with dew, and
scents are strong, and the earth yields kindly to the nose, what beetles
and lob-worms reward one's routing!

I am convinced that the fattest and stupidest slugs that live, live near