34 State Horticultural Society. 



supervision, a supervision so direct, positive and insistent, that it is difficult 

 for me to hire mascuHne labor. I have the name of being very hard 

 to please. 1 rather glory in this name, except when I need the stronsf 

 hand of a man to assist with the work. This spring I planted out a 

 dozen trees, and as many grape vines. The colored gentleman who con- 

 descended to do the digging, kept up a fire of comment something like 

 this : "That hole's plenty big enough for that tree." But the roots will be 

 cramped, I tell him. Dig out the corners more. "Law'see" says Mr. 

 Dark-man, "what if they is crowded? I'se planted out apple trees many 

 a time, big orchards of 'em, and dug leetle holes, jest big enough to crowd 

 'em into, that's the way I alius did plant trees before." "Do the trees 

 you plant all live ?" I questioned. "No, of c'ose not every one of 'em : 

 some alius does die." "Not when I plant them," I said with emphasis, 

 and he manifested incredulity by a grunt of disapproval, which said 

 as plainly as words, "I don't believe it." 



He was to come back the next day and do some more spading, but 

 he did not appear. I went after him, and found him leaning against his 

 cabin, smoking a cob pipe. "AVhy didn't you come back this morning, 

 as you promised?" I indignantly demanded. He replied with that ag- 

 gravating slowness, that makes one long to hurry speech with a .stout 

 club, "Wa'll, ye see, I'se jest waitin here for ]Mr. D. to send for me. 

 I'se goin' to carry hod for his masons." 



"Do you call that easier work than gardening?" I asked. "No'm," 

 he drawled, "'taint no easier and it ain't no harder, when folks is as hard 

 to please as you-all is." "You-all" was only myself, but he politely in- 

 cluded my husband, who was down town, the hired girl, who was in the 

 kitchen, and the cat asleep in the barn loft. 



The point is, one must be particular if he wishes the things he plants 

 to survive, and grow in loveliness from year to year, and from generation 

 to generation. I have never found that it made much difference whether 

 one plants trees and shrubs in the fall or spring, if the work is done right, 

 but it would be better not to plant at all, than to do the work in a slip- 

 shod way. 



I must confess to a special liking for the homely, old-fashioned 

 plants ; I like the great clumps of those old-fashioned yellow lilies, the 

 columbine and hollyhocks ; even the tiger lily is a welcome member of 

 my large collection of hardy plants. It may be that I like them because 

 they were in my grandmother's garden, and so grew a place for themselves 

 in my heart when I was very young. 



Is it not something fine to be able to do even a little towards beauti- 

 fying the world, and to make happier and better a few human hearts? 



