LITTLE GARDENS 



a " jimson-weed " — the stramonium, or thorn- 

 apple, of the vacant lots. This had sown itself 

 in the center of the back bed, and being pictur- 

 esque of leaf and an oddity among cultivated 

 plants, I spared it. Ordinarily, the sure way to 

 kill a weed is to become attached to it, and give 

 the same care to it that you would to an exotic. 

 It will pine and die. " You never loved a dear 

 gazelle — " and all that sort of thing, you know. 

 But this Jamestown weed endured prosperity 

 with a cheer that it was good to see. It grew and 

 grew until it was the prize among its species. 

 Out in California they have jimsons so big that 

 you can play under them, but I speak now of our 

 humble Eastern variety, which is usually of a 

 dusty, weed-like aspect, rooted among ash-dumps, 

 crockery and old cans, and lapsing into a squalor 

 of age at the first nip of the frost. I hoed the 

 soil about it, watered it, picked off the beetles 

 and grubs, and when the flowers came, gathered 

 them every evening, at least, all but enough to 

 attract the night-moth, with its astonishing pro- 

 boscis. The determination of that plant to have 

 seed caused it to put forth blossoms in a multi- 

 tude, and it swelled almost to the dimension of 

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