Vill 
UGUST is the turning point of the year, 
A in the garden. During this month 
many summer flowers wane and pass, and 
looking out on the lawn some morning one 
finds that some tree has begun to cast down 
its yellowing leaves, a sight that speaks more 
eloquently of the approach of autumn than 
do the figures on the calendar. It is the first 
melancholy note in the irrevocable progress 
of the year, and from now on the flowers are 
more precious as they prolong the colour and 
delight of summer. 
Doubly valued are the flowers that now 
open for the first time when the early favour- 
ites have left us. The poppies no longer 
blush in the peach-tree bed, coreopsis are 
in frantic haste to manufacture seeds, and 
only a late hollyhock here and there is 
left blooming. The busy plants are hasten- 
ing to renew themselves and make new 
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