THE SECRET OF THE SOIL 



never been born, and the ugly wall still 

 stared me boldly in the eye, as bare, ragged, 

 and unregenerate as ever. 



But even a little experience teaches 

 wisdom, and thus I was led to meditate 

 that perchance the ground was too hard, 

 and that was why my plantings had not 

 lived. Therefore I decided to try digging 

 a little strip a foot wide at the base 

 of the wall, and planting alternate wild 

 clematis vines, and geraniums from a 

 florist's. And as the bed looked small 

 and easy, and the handy lad next door 

 was not available then, I thought I 

 would just dig it for myself. 



The soil was a heavy clay, made hard 

 by the sun and frost, and in order to get 

 my spade in at all I had to stand on it 

 and rock it from side to side until my 

 weight gradually worked it in. I have a 

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