But, visitors' children comprehended nothing of this, and rifled our beds and bushes so constantly, that, although they would have given our table a fair supply of berries, in the season, we never once could get enough to be worth using, and so were forced to purchase our fruit in the city.
After a destructive visitation of this nature, during strawberry time, I said to Mr.Smith, as he was leaving for the city one morning-- "I wish you would take a small basket with you, and bring out two or three quarts of strawberries for tea.

I've only tasted them once or twice, and it's hopeless to think of getting any from our garden." Well, when Mr.Smith came home with his two or three quarts of strawberries, we had six women and children, visitors from the city, to partake of them.

Of course, our own children, who had been promised strawberries at tea time, and who had been looking for them, did'nt get a taste.
And thus it happened over and over again.
As the weather grew warmer and warmer, particular friends whom we were glad to see, and friends, so called, into whose houses we had rarely, if ever ventured, came out to get a "mouthful of fresh air," and to "see something green." We lived at "such a convenient distance," that it was no trouble at all to run out and look at us.
Twice again during the summer, I was left without a single domestic.
Girls didn't like to leave the city, where they had been used to meeting their acquaintances every few days; and, therefore, it was hard to retain them.

So it went on.
I had poor help, and was overrun with company, at such a rate, that I was completely worn out.

I rarely heard the rumble of the approaching stage that I did not get nervous.
Early in August, Mr.Smith said to me, one evening after returning from the city--on that very morning, a family of four had left me, after staying three days-- "I met Mr.Gray this afternoon, and he told me that they were coming out to see you to-morrow.