264 FIVE ACRES TOO MUCH. 



&quot;Are you talking of that?&quot; Weeville inquired, 

 giving the sacred flower a sacrilegious shove with 

 the toe of his boot. &quot; Why, what do you take that 

 for ? 



&quot; What do I take it for ? You may well inquire. 

 I take it for the Verbena, BwrrvwelUi, the crowning 

 glory 



&quot; Yerbena fiddlesticks ! It is nothing but a weed 

 a piece of wild sorrel, just like a dozen others 

 hereabouts, for they seem to abound in your garden 

 only it is rather miserable looking, and is near 

 about dead from some cause or other. But what 

 has that to do with your city green-house ?&quot; 



Explanations were unnecessary. Patrick had 

 made a mistake ; he had either taken up a weed 

 for a verbena, or had potted a weed and verbena 

 together, and the verbena had died early, for certain 

 it was that my new seedling, the puzzling variety of 

 an old species, was nothing but an ugly specimen of 

 worthless sorrel. It died soon after. I w r as glad it 

 did. Possibly scientific hot-house culture is not ben 

 eficial to weeds, but until it perished of itself I had 

 not the heart to dig it up, and thus put a violent end 

 to so many vain hopes and promising anticipations. 

 The Verbena JBarnwellii is still in the undiscovered 

 future. Patrick had committed other errors; most 



