See, I've bought a piece of wire-netting for the door.

There's heaps of room at the bottom of the garden.

I believe I'll ask him to bring it over after tea." "But the hutch isn't ready," objected Ingred.
"Oh, that won't matter! I can keep it in a packing-case for a day or two." When Ingred and Hereward reached home they found that tea had been set out on the patch of grass under the apple trees, and Mother and Quenrede were sitting sewing and waiting for them.

It was one of those beautiful September days when the air seems almost as warm as in August, and with the clock still at summer time, the sun had not climbed very far down the valley.

The garden, where Mother and Quenrede had been working busily all the afternoon, was gay with nasturtiums and asters, and overhead hung a crop of the rosiest apples ever seen.