MIDWINTER GARDENS 



and joy in machinery and machine results. 

 An itinerant ignoramus comes round with his 

 own lawn-mower, the pushing of which he now 

 makes his sole occupation for the green half of 

 the year, and the entire length, breadth and 

 thickness of whose wisdom is a wisdom not of 

 the lawn but only of the lawn-mower: how to 

 keep its bearings oiled and its knives chewing 

 fine; and the lawn becomes staringly a factory 

 product. 



Then tyranny turns the screw again, and in 

 the bliss of publicity and a very reasonable de- 

 sire to make the small home lot look as large 

 as possible, down come the fences, side and 

 front, and the applauding specialist of the lawn- 

 mower begs that those obstructions may never 

 be set up again, because now the householder 

 can have his lawn mowed so much quicker, 

 and he, the pusher, can serve more customers. 

 Were he truly a gardener he might know some- 

 what of the sweet, sunlit, zephyrous, fragrant 

 out-door privacies possible to a real garden, and 

 more or less of that benign art which, by skil- 

 ful shrubbery plantings, can make a small 



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