THE CITY YARD 



the effect, and who were looking for more Im- 

 portant favors In the future. But If there are 

 no Indians, and no Mary Ann, the oval lawn Is 

 rather pretty, don't you think? Unless you were 

 to plant flowers In a smaller oval In the center, 

 there Is no place for flowers Inside the walk, and 

 you must have grass. It Is the symbol and the 

 proof of plenty. Our soft-breasted earth yields 

 treasure to her children for the asking, yet never 

 in such wise as when we cut the grass. For other 

 crops are planted by men's hands; they have 

 sown and watched and weeded; they have spent 

 their strength In plowing, harrowing, watering, 

 spraying before the harvest was to be gathered. 

 But grass Is the world's freest gift, and the freest 

 Is often the finest, like the night spectacle of the 

 stars, and the splendors of the sunset. Grass 

 grows In the tropics, and the arctics, too. In the 

 warm darkness, where the seed has sunk, strange 

 chemistries go on : the grain of weightless matter 

 has thrown out Its threads of white, to steady the 

 blade It will presently send up and grip the earth. 

 These blades. In multitude beyond the swords 

 of all the armies, thrust aside the sand and stones 

 and flourish, shining. In our sight. Wonder of 

 33 



