vidual in the cherry-tree, "that you came here to sell me some trees."
"Yes, sir," said he quickly. "Trees, shrubs, vines, evergreens—everything suitable for a gentleman's country villa. I can sell you something quite remarkable, sir, in the way of cherry-trees—French ones, just imported; bear fruit three times the size of anything that could be produced on a tree like this. And pears—fruit of the finest flavour and enormous size—"
"Yes," said Pomona. "I seen them in the book. But they must grow on a ground-vine. No tree couldn't hold such pears as them."
Here Euphemia reproved Pomona's forwardness, and I invited the tree agent to get down out of the tree.
"Thank you," said he; "but not while that dog is loose. If you will kindly chain him up, I will get my book and show you specimens of some of the finest small fruits in the world, all imported from the first nurseries of Europe—the Redgold Amber Muscat grape—the—"
"Oh, please let him down!" said Euphemia, her eyes beginning to sparkle.
I slowly walked towards the tramp-tree, revolving various matters in my mind. We had not spent much money on the place during the winter, and we now had a small sum which we intended to use for the advantage of the farm, but had not yet decided what to do with it. It behoved me to be careful.
I told Pomona to run and get me the dog-chain, and I stood under the tree, listening as well as I could to the tree agent talking to Euphemia, and paying no attention to the impassioned entreaties of the tramp in the crotch above me. When the chain was
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