THE STORY OF A GARDEN 1 53 



a rock, the soil being deep only in 

 pockets. This is all the better for 

 wood things that love chinks and 

 crannies; and the evergreens flourish, 

 having the knack of running out their 

 roots like anchors. 



How much we owe to these same 

 evergreens, beautiful and protective 

 at all times, in all seasons! Snow- 

 feathered they give a Christmas glad- 

 ness to the landscape, then pink-tipped 

 in their blooming time before putting 

 on their fresh green summer plumes; 

 in autumn filling the sudden empti- 

 ness, waving warning arms to drive the 

 cold from all the tender things that 

 creep or fly into their shelter. The 

 hemlock, ever faithful, breaks the fury 

 of the north wind; the Scotch pine 

 sends out warmth from its ruddy bark; 

 the white pine emerges from the morn- 

 ing mist, shaking diamonds from its 



