282 THE GARDEN, YOU, AND I 



place for a fowl-house, but exactly the location, as The 

 Man from Everywhere suggested, for a bed of sweet 

 odours. 



I expected to do nothing with it this season until 

 one day Larry, the departed, in a desire to use some 

 of the domestic guano with which the rough cellar 

 of the old building was filled, carted away part of it, 

 and supplying its place with loam, dug over and 

 straightened out the irregular space, which is quite 

 six feet wide by thirty long. 



The same day, on going to a near-by florist's for 

 celery plants, I found that he had a quantity of little 

 heliotropes in excess of his needs, that had remained 

 unpotted hi the sand of the cutting house, where they 

 had spindled into sickly-looking weeds. In a mo- 

 ment of the horticultural gambling that will seize one, 

 I offered him a dollar for the lot, which he accepted 

 readily, for it was the last of June and the poor 

 things would probably have been thrown out in a day 

 or two. 



I took them home and spent a whole morning in 

 separating and cutting off the spindling tops to an 

 even length of six inches. Literally there seemed to 

 be no end to the plants, and when I counted them I 

 found that I had nearly a hundred and fifty heliotropes, 



