THE DAWN OF SPRING 



a homeless dog. Of course, the withered shoots and March 



old flower stems ought to have been cut down and burnt ^"^5 



many weeks ago. Let us hasten, with shame and remorse, 



to do it now. When they have all been cleared off, and 



the fire is crackling under them (we will light it on a 



day when the wind is not blowing straight towards 



the house), we shall feel more cheerful. 



The border clear, the next step is division, rearrange- 

 ment, addition. We will drive a turfing iron, or a sharp 

 spade, through the coarse clumps of Ox-eye Daisy, 

 Goat's-rue, Sunflower, Michaelmas Daisy, and any other 

 large, fast-spreading things, and, having divided them 

 into several pieces, replant some of the outside portions 

 in deeply dug soil, and cast out the weaker central 

 pieces. We will arrange our kinds in groups, say, of 

 three plants each in a triangle ; and see that each has 

 room to spread its growth without getting entangled 

 with its neighbours. As we work we will turn the soil 

 to the full depth of the spade, and dig in some yard 

 manure. 



But, perhaps, some of us have no borders to deal 

 with ? Perhaps they have to be made ? This is a truly 

 happy state — always provided that we have a bit of 

 ground to dig, and a pound or two wherewith to buy 

 plants. There is a joyful task before us. We need envy 

 no one. We sniff scornfully at yachts, motor cars, 

 airships, balls, operas, suppers, and routs ; we have 

 something more attractive. The delight of making 

 an herbaceous border never grows stale. When we 

 have made one we want to make another, and if we 

 have no more room we want to start making borders for 

 our friends. 



We do not make higgledy-piggledy borders nowadays. 

 We do not dig up a certain amount of ground and put 



