o the rest of us started for the Sunday walk. We went out the side door into the garden, through ever so many gates and the cow yard, on into a shrubbery which ran round two sides of the cow pasture, but was railed off to keep the cows from destroying the shrubs. A twisty little path ran through the shrubbery.
Father wanted his place to look exactly like England. He planted cowslips and primroses and hawthorn hedges and all the Englishy flowers. He had stiles and meadows and took away all the wild Canadianness and made it as meek and English as he could.
--The Book of Small by Emily Carr.
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