IIO MY SUMMER IN A GARDEN. 



One of the minor pleasures of life is that of 

 controlling vegetable activity and aggressions 

 with the priming-knife. Vigorous and rapid 

 growth is, however, a necessity to the sport. 

 To prune feeble plants and shrubs is like act- 

 ing the part of dry-nurse to a sickly orphan. 

 You must feel the blood of Nature bound under 

 your hand, and get the thrill of its life in your 

 nerves. To control and culture a strong, thrifty 

 plant in this way, is like steering a ship under 

 full headway, or driving a locomotive with your 

 hand on the lever, or pulling the reins over a fast 

 horse when his blood and tail are up. I do not 

 understand, by the way, the pleasure of the 

 jockey in setting up the tail of the horse arti- 

 ficially. If I had a horse with a tail not able 

 to sit up, I should feed the horse, and curry 

 him into good spirits, and let him set up his own 

 tail. When I see a poor, spiritless horse going 

 by with an artificially set-up tail, it is only a 



