Childhood in a Garden 327 



even of rolling great globes of snow, were infinite and 

 varied. More subtle was the charm of shaping cer- 

 tain things from dried twigs and evergreen sprigs, 

 and pouring water over them to freeze into a beauti- 

 ful resemblance of the original form. These might 

 be the ornate initials or name of a dear girl friend, or 

 a tiny tower or pagoda. I once had a real winter 

 garden in miniature set in twigs of cedar and spruce, 

 and frozen into a fairy garden. 



In summertime the old-fashioned garden was a 

 paradise for a child ; the long warm days saw the 

 fresh telling of child to child, by that curiously subtle 

 system of transmission which exists everywhere 

 among happy children, of quaint flower customs 

 known to centuries of English-speaking children, 

 and also some newer customs developed by the fit- 

 ness of local flowers for such games and plays. 



The Countess Potocka says the intense enjoy- 

 ment of nature is a sixth sense. We are not born 

 with this good gift, nor do we often acquire it in 

 later life ; it comes through our rearing. The ful- 

 ness of delight in a garden is the bequest of a 

 childhood spent in a garden. No study or posses- 

 sion of flowers in mature years can afford gratifica- 

 tion equal to that conferred by childish associations 

 with them ; by the sudden recollection of flower 

 lore, the memory of child friendships, the recalling 

 of games or toys made of flowers : you cannot ex- 

 plain it ; it seems a concentration, an extract of all 

 the sunshine and all the beauty of those happy 

 summers of our lives when the whole day and 

 every day was spent among flowers. The sober 



