Planting Trees on a Lawn 



Why, then, since I woo it with such Killed -with 

 tender affection, such anxious care, does ktndnes 

 it refuse to grow for me ? Possibly it is 

 killed with kindness, and some wholesome 

 neglect may be what its shy soul desires, 

 for I notice that the little ones in the 

 swale, half smothered in grass, do not die, 

 though left wholly to their own wayward 

 devices, while the pampered specimens on 

 the lawn lift bare and ragged branches to 

 the sky, from out their luxurious beds of 

 mulching, and are painfully disappointing 

 and uncertain. 



