44 A Little Maryland Garden 
air and sunlight. I find tiny green leaves 
on the gaillardias and china pinks, and the 
hardy chrysanthemums are sprouting vigor- 
ously. 
Now the midday sun is warm, though the 
mornings are frosty. Sometimes the ground 
is white as if covered with snow, and there 
is that strange effect produced by a frosty 
morning—the shadows are marked in white. 
Where the sunshine lies, the frost melts 
to pearly drops, but the shadows of the 
houses, and even the long, thin lines, cast 
by tree trunks and fence posts, are gleaming 
white. 
The little seedlings planted in boxes in the 
house have wriggled up to the light, hooded 
by their dark seeds. They push and reach 
as though animated by intelligence. They 
were hardly above ground before the mould 
attacked them. I have lost a good many 
seedlings in this way, but this year I tried 
sprinkling them with sulphur, and the mould 
disappeared entirely. There is a box of Cha- 
baud carnations, and one of ten-weeks stocks. 
