220 THE GARDEN, YOU, AND I 



where we pause to read or work or chat, and a table 

 garnishing to render aesthetic the aspect and surround- 

 ings of the human animal at his feeding time ; otherwise, 

 except at special seasons of festivity, a surplus of flowers 

 in the house makes for restlessness, not peace. Two days 

 ago I had thirty-odd vases and jars filled with flowers, 

 and I felt, as I sat down to sew, as if I was trespassing 

 in a bazaar ! Also, if there are too many jars of various 

 flowers in one room, it is impossible that each should 

 have its own individuality. 



To-day I began my new plan. I put away a part 

 of my jars and vases and deliberately thought out 

 what flowers I would use before gathering them. 



The day being overcast though not threatening, 

 merely the trail, as it were, of the storm that had passed, 

 and the den being on the north side of the house and 

 finished in dark woodwork and furniture, I gathered 

 nasturtiums in three shades for it, the deep crimson, 

 orange-scarlet, and canary-yellow, but not too many 

 a blue- and- white jar of the Chinese "ginger" pattern for 

 one corner of the mantel-shelf, and for the Japanese well 

 buckets, that are suspended from the central hanging 

 lamp by cords, a cascade of blossoms of the same colour 

 still attached to their own fleshy vines and interspersed 

 with the foliage. Strange as it may seem, this little bit 



