132 THE FRIENDSHIP OF NATURE 



strip it off, and the first hepatica opens 

 its eyes in safety, for tongues of flame 

 or the grub-axe have not crippled it 

 during the winter. Once the petted 

 garden beauties looked askance, from 

 their smooth beds in the tilled corner, 

 and drew their skirts away from the 

 wild-wood company, but now, each 

 receiving according to its need, they 

 live in perfect concord. 



The wild rose in the chinky wall 

 peeps shyly at her glowing sisters, and 

 the goldenrod bows over it to gossip 

 with the pentstemon. And this is how 

 it came to be, for the garden was no 

 haphazard accident. Nature began it, 

 and, following her master-touch, the 

 hand and brain of a man, impelled 

 by a reverent purpose, evolved its 

 shaping. 



This man, even when a little boy, 

 had felt the potency of Nature's touch 



