FEBRUARY 213 



grow an inch each day in such weather, in spite of very 

 cold nights, and though I have the usual endless ' Mar- 

 tharish' bothers of life inside the house, I can indeed 

 say, with Thomson: 



I care not, Fortune, what you me deny ; 



You cannot rob me of free nature's grace; 

 You cannot shut the windows of the sky, 



Through which Aurora shows her bright'ning face ; 

 You cannot bar my constant feet to trace 



The woods and lawns by living stream at eve. 

 Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace, 



And I their toys to the great children leave. 



Of fancy, reason, virtue, nought can me bereave. 



To appreciate Miss Jekyll's book in a way to profit 

 by it, one must read and re-read it. One more quota- 

 tion I must make. In 'May 'she says: 'The blooming 

 of the Cowslip is the signal for a search for the Morel, 

 one of the best of the edible fungi. It grows in open 

 woods, or where the undergrowth has not yet grown 

 high, and frequently in old parks and pastures, near or 

 under Elms. It is quite unlike any other fungus, shaped 

 like a tall egg, with the pointed end upwards, on a short, 

 hollow stalk, and looking something like a sponge. It 

 has a delicate and excellent flavour, and is perfectly 

 wholesome.' I have, alas! spent nearly all my life, and 

 I have never searched for the Morel ! Have you, dear 

 reader ? 



February 26th. I have been to-day planting large 

 quantities of the roots of the Tropceolum speciosum in 

 various parts of the garden. These were given to me 

 by a kind neighbour. He says the great secret (and he 

 is very successful himself) is digging the holes quite 

 four feet deep, filling them in with leaf -mould and the 

 light earth, and planting the roots a foot below the sur- 

 face, and then they have two feet of loose soil to work 



