, hedged in by ragged fences,
formed of the roots and stumps of leviathan trees.

You see that picket-gate? open it, and a path bordered on each side by
currant bushes, and gooseberry bushes, and the tall cyranga, and the
purple lilac, will lead you through an arbor of fine Isabella's and
Catawba's to the dear old homestead, now in possession of Brother Dick
and little Fanny, his better half.

I could describe every nook of that darling old house, and every thing
surrounding it, from its old-fashioned chimneys--wherein the domestic
swallows have sung their little ones to sleep each successive summer,
time out of mind--to the unseemly nail that projected its Judas-point
from one of the crosspieces of that same little gate, and which always
contrived to give a triangular tear to my flying robes every time they
fluttered through that dear little gate. Just imagine the happy
moments I spent under the great old willow by the well, darning those
same triangular rents. Still has all this nothing to do with Cousin
Jehoiakim Johnson. You have probably seen folks that were often in
your way; now, he was never any where else. Always in the way, and
always ungraceful. He was not ungraceful for lack of desire to please:
bless his kind, officious heart! Oh, no! Was there a cup of coffee to
be handed, and were there a half dozen waiters ready to hand it, he
was sure to thrust forth at least ten huge digits, and if he chanced
to get it in his grasp, wo to the coffee! and wo to the snow-white
damask table-cloth! or worse, wo to one's "best Sunday-go-to-meetin'"
silk dress. Nature uses strange materials in concocting some of her
children--most uncouth was the fabric of which she constructed
Jehoiakim Johnson.

Poor fellow! he is dead now--peace to his soul. Do you know I fancy it
lies hid in the breast of my dog Jehu--the most ungainly, the
best-natured creature alive. My baby rides his back, and pulls his
ears. I never heard him growl. Oh! he is a jewel of a dog.

Poor Cousin Jehoiakim! Among his other _plaisanteries_ he came near
losing for me a noble husband. Patience, and I will relate how it came
to pass.

Sister Anna and myself--that sister of mine, by the way, was a
complete witch; all dimples and fun, with blue eyes that darted here
and there, dancing in her head for very gladness; with a mouth on
which the bright red rose sat like a queen on her throne. Her words I
can liken to nothing but to so many little silver bells, r