"If you only could see the plates, sir, I'm sure--"

"Are you ready?" I cried, as the dog, excited by Pomona's wild
shouts, made a bolt in his direction.

"Good-day, if I must--" said the agent, as he hurried to the gate.
But there he stopped.

"There is nothing, sir," he said, "that would so improve your place
as a row of the Spitzenberg Sweet-scented Balsam fir along this
fence. I'll sell you three-year-old trees--"

"He's loose!" I shouted, as I dropped the chain.

In a second the agent was on the other side of the gate. Lord
Edward made a dash toward him; but, stopping suddenly, flew back to
the tree of the tramp.

"If you should conclude, sir," said the tree-agent, looking over
the fence, "to have a row of those firs along here--"

"My good sir," said I, "there is no row of firs there now, and the
fence is not very high. My dog, as you see, is very much excited
and I cannot answer for the consequences if he takes it into his
head to jump over."

The tree-agent turned and walked slowly away.

"Now, look-a-here," cried the tramp from the tree, in the voice of