MY REAL ESTATE. 13 



sassafras and the dogwood, I must not fail 

 to mention their more abundant neighbor, 

 the witch-hazel, or hainamelis. In com- 

 parison with its wild freak of singularity, 

 the modest idiosyncrasies of the other two 

 seem almost conventional. Why, if not for 

 sheer oddity's sake, should any bush in this 

 latitude hold back its blossoms till near the 

 edge of winter? As I looked at the half- 

 grown buds, clustered in the axils of the 

 yellow leaves, they appeared to be waiting 

 for the latter to fall, that they might have 

 the sunlight all to themselves. They will 

 need it, one would say, in our bleak No- 

 vember weather. 



Overfull of life as my wild garden patch 

 was, it would not have kept its (human) 

 possessor very long from starvation. One 

 or two barberry bushes made a brave show 

 of fruitfulness ; but the handsome clusters 

 were not yet ripe, and even at their best 

 they are more ornamental than nutritive, 

 though, after the frost has cooked them, 

 one may go farther and fare worse. A 

 few stunted maple-leaved viburnums (this 

 plant's originality is imitative, a not un- 

 common sort, by the bye) proffered scanty 



