26 A Little Maryland Garden 
killing frost’? cut them down in their 
prime. 
I think one never comes to this time of the 
year, the beginning of a fresh blooming 
season, without regret. Something coveted 
has been prudently deferred, because perhaps 
it was a hazardous experiment, or seemed 
a luxury. Then one makes a resolve that 
another season shall not go by without in- 
dulging the haunting fancy. Last fall my 
desires turned strongly toward moccasin- 
flowers, but I cried, ‘‘Get thee behind me.”’ 
Now that spring has come I am mournful 
to think that they might be greeting me in the 
fern bed, and that another year must pass 
before Ican have them. It makes me think 
of David Harum who for years denied him- 
self a silver tobacco box that he longed for, 
and in the end wondered why he had not 
bought it long before. 
I feel this way after a floral self-denial. 
For two years I have wanted a primrose 
bed, and tried to raise the plants from seed 
in boxes, and failed. It seems that they 
