MY GARDEN ACCOUNTED FOR. 25 



and though the gardener turns off the heavier 

 \vork, there are few of its labors he cannot lead 

 off in still. Many a happy hour I have worked 

 there at his side and under his direction. It 

 must be confessed that my experience was not 

 altogether thornless, especially when my task 

 was among the raspberry and blackberry 

 bushes and the day was good for fishing, nor 

 always rose-colored when directed to weed a 

 rose-border. Volumes of poetry have been 

 written about roses, but their bushes in early 

 April are desperately prosaic and inclined to 

 scratch. 



Our strawberry-bed also was annually in- 

 vaded by legions of white clover and sorrel, 

 and my back still aches in memory of the boy- 

 ish weariness with which I weeded my daily 

 stint. But then, on the other hand, there was 

 a bright side to the picture. I would win 

 gracious smiles from the girls by bringi/ig 



