of every stratagem to obtain it.
For a few days everything succeeded so well that it began to bud,
and throw out small leaves, which we hourly measured, convinced
(though now scarce a foot from the ground) it would soon afford us a
refreshing shade. This unfortunate willow, by engrossing our whole
time, rendered us incapable of application to any other study, and the
cause of our inattention not being known, we were kept closer than
before. The fatal moment approached when water must fail, and we
were already afflicted with the idea that our tree must perish with
drought. At length necessity, the parent of industry, suggested an
invention, by which we might save our tree from death, and ourselves
from despair; it was to make a furrow underground, which would
privately conduct a part of the water from the walnut tree to our
willow. This undertaking was executed with ardor, but did not
immediately succeed- our descent was not skillfully planned- the water
did not run, the earth falling in and stopping up the burrow; yet,
though all went contrary, nothing discouraged us, Labor omnia vincit
labor improbus. We made the basin deeper, to give the water a more
sensible descent; we cut the bottom of a box into narrow planks;
increased the channel from the walnut tree to our willow, and laying a
row flat at the bottom, set two others inclining towards each other,
so as to form a triangular channel; we formed a king of grating with
small sticks at the end next the walnut tree, to prevent the earth and
stones from stopping it up, and having carefully covered our work with
well-trodden earth, in a transport of hope and fear attended the
hour of watering. After an interval which seemed an age of
expectation, this hour arrived. Mr. Lambercier, as usual, assisted
at the operation; we contrived to get between him and our tree,
towards which he fortunately turned his back. They no sooner began
to pour the first pail of water, than we perceived it running to the
willow; this sight was too much for our prudence, and we involuntarily
expressed our transport by a shout of joy. The sudden exclamation made
Mr. Lambercier turn about, though at that instant he was delighted
to observe how greedily the earth, which surrounded the root of his
walnut tree, imbibed the water. Surprised at seeing two trenches
partake of it, he shouted in his turn, examines, perceives the
roguery, and, sending instantly for a pick axe, at one fatal blow
makes two or three of our planks fly, crying out meantime with all his
strength an aqueduct! an aqueduct! His strokes redoubled, every one of
which made an impression on our hearts; in a moment the planks, the
channel, the basin, even our favorite willow, all were plowed up,
nor was one word pronounced during this terrible transaction, except
the above-mentioned exclamation. An aqueduct! repeated he, while
destroying all our hopes, an aqueduct! an aqueduct!
It may be supposed this adventure had a still more melancholy end
for the young architects; this, however, was not the case; the
affair ended here. Mr. Lambercier never reproached us on this
account nor was his countenance clouded with a frown; we even heard
him mention the circumstance to his sister with loud bursts of
laughter. The laugh of Mr. Lambercier might be heard to a considerable
