The day after we first put up our new hammock Uncle Peter came 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 . . . Read More