156 MY SUMMER IN A GARDEN. 



day when the superfluous sunshine will be util 

 ized ; as, for instance, that which has burned 

 up my celery this year will be converted into 

 a force to work the garden. 



This sitting in the sun amid the evidences 

 of a ripe year is the easiest part of gardening I 

 have experienced. But what a combat has gone 

 on here ! What vegetable passions have run the 

 whole gamut of ambition, selfishness, greed of 

 place, fruition, satiety, and now rest here in the 

 truce of exhaustion ! What a battle-field, if one 

 may look upon it so ! The corn has lost its am 

 munition, and stacked arms in a slovenly, militia 

 sort of style. The ground vines are torn, tram 

 pled, and withered ; and the ungathered cucum 

 bers, worthless melons, and golden squashes lie 

 about like the spent bombs and exploded shells 

 of a battle-field. So the cannon-balls lay on 

 the sandy plain before Fort Fisher after the 

 capture. So the great grassy meadow at Mu- 



