154 Old Time Gardens 



" Methinks I see my contemplative girl now in 

 the garden watching the gradual approach of Spring," 

 wrote Sterne. My contemplative girl lives in the 

 city, how can she know that spring is here ? Even 

 on those few square feet of mother earth, dedicated 

 to clotheslines and posts, spring sets her mark. 

 Our Lilacs seldom bloom, but they put forth lovely 

 fresh green leaves ; and even the unrolling of the 

 leaves of our Japanese ivies are a pleasure. 



Our poor little strips of back yard in city homes 

 are apt to be too densely shaded for flower blooms, 

 but some things will grow, even there. Some wild 

 flowers will live, and what a delight they are in 

 spring. We have a Jack-in-the-pulpit who comes 

 up just as jauntily there as in the wild woods; 

 Dog-tooth Violet and our common wild Violet also 

 bloom. A city neighbor has Trillium which blos- 

 soms each year; our Trillium shows leaves, but no 

 blossoms, and does not increase in spread of roots. 

 Bloodroot, a flower so shy when gathered in the 

 woods, and ever loving damp sites, flourishes in the 

 dryest flower bed, grows coarser in leaf and bloom, 

 and blossoms earlier, and holds faster its snowy 

 petals. Corydalis in the garden seems so garden- 

 bred that you almost forget the flower was ever 

 wild. 



The approach of spring in our city parks is marked 

 by the appearance of the Dandelion gatherers. It 

 is always interesting to see, in Mav, on the closely 

 guarded lawns and field expanses of our city parks, 

 the hundreds of bareheaded, gayly-dressed Italian 

 and Portuguese women and children eagerly gather- 



