4 ABOUT ORCHIDS. 
sunlight recognized my garden once more. Then 
I rooted out the shrubbery; did away with 
the fowl-house, using its materials to build 
two little sheds against the back fence; dug 
up the potato-garden—made fZabula rasa, in 
fact ; dismissed my labourers, and considered. I 
meant to be my own gardener. But already, 
sixteen years ago, I had a dislike of stooping. 
To kneel was almost as wearisome. Therefore I 
adopted the system of raised beds—common 
enough. Returning home, however, after a year’s 
absence, I found my oak posts decaying—un- 
seasoned, doubtless, when put in. To prevent 
trouble of this sort in future, I substituted drain- 
pipes set on end; the first of those ideas which 
have won commendation from great authorities. 
Drain-pipes do not encourage insects. Filled with 
earth, each bears a showy plant—lobelia, pyre- 
thrum, saxifrage, or what not, with the utmost 
neatness, making a border; and they last 
eternally. But there was still much stooping, of 
course, whilst I became more impatient of it. One 
day a remedy flashed through my mind: that 
happy thought which became the essence or 
principle of my gardening, and makes this account 
thereof worth attention perhaps. Why not raise 
to a comfortable level all parts of the area over 
