My New Zealand Garden 



Of hired labour I have had but little. My first 

 gardener was not a success : his pinch of brains 

 forbad it. Being asked one day to mow some 

 rushes in a distant paddock, to make sure that he 

 might attack the right spot, we added, ' where you 

 see the white heifer.' He obeyed orders, the 

 result of his work being a zigzag and circuitous 

 track, for he had mowed wherever the heifer was, 

 having followed her all day, mowing behind her. 



However, there are gardeners to be had, from 

 this sort up to those who can grow orchids well ; 

 but I would rather be in the struggle than be a 

 looker-on, and so do all except the heavy work 

 myself. 



As a tonic for nerves, speaking from personal 

 experience, I may safely say that gardening has, 

 in my case, achieved its object. I have been 

 enabled to squash worries and discard doctors 

 thus far in fact, my only dose of medicine in 

 twenty years I used to kill weeds. Without 

 further rigmarole, I will commence with Rock- 

 melons, which grew larger than I have ever seen 

 or heard of; some said that the bees had been 

 at them straight from the Pumpkins, but as the 

 flavour was perfect and the netting complete, I 

 turned a deaf ear to the thrusts of these wet- 

 blankets. 



I sowed the seed in two rows, like peas across 

 the kitchen-garden. The ground first received a 



