THE AMATEUR GARDEN 



acre is from books except what two or three pro- 

 fessional friends have from time to time dropped 

 into my hungry ear. Both my ears have good 

 appetites — for garden lore. 



About half a mile from me, down Mill River, 

 stands the factory of a prized friend who more 

 than any other man helps by personal daily care 

 to promote Northampton's "People's Institute," 

 of whose home-garden work I have much to 

 say in the chapters that follow this one. For 

 forty years or more this factory has been known 

 far and wide as the *'Hoe Shop" because it 

 makes shovels. It has never made hoes. It 

 uses water-power, and the beautiful mill-pond 

 behind its high dam keeps the river full back to 

 the rapids just above my own acre. In winter 

 this is the favorite skating-pond of the town 

 and of Smith College. In the greener seasons 

 of college terms the girls constantly pass up- 

 stream and down in their pretty rowboats and 

 canoes, making a charming effect as seen from 

 my lawn's rear edge at the head of the pine 

 and oak shaded ravine whose fish-pools are gay 

 by turns with elder, wild sunflower, sumach, 

 iris, water-lilies, and forget-me-not. 



12 



