176 GARDENING WITH BRAINS 'i? 



dorous. Unpleasant odors can be changed into 

 agreeable ones, as Burbank showed in the case 

 of the dahlia, and perhaps, if we all got busy, 

 there would be no unfragrant flowers in the 

 gardens by the end of this century. 



EDUCATING THE SENSE OF SMELL 



My little nephew enjoys the blossoms and 

 leaves in his own fragrant garden very much. 

 Before he was a year old I used to surprise him 

 with faint whiffs from the tiny vial of oil of 

 bergamot I always carry in my vest pocket. 

 (It often proves a stimulant and life-saver in 

 concert halls and theaters.) He always greeted 

 these whiffs with a pleased smile, and to-day he 

 takes almost as much pleasure in refined per- 

 fumes as his uncle does, while his nose helps him 

 to recognize things. Ten minutes ago he brought 

 me a stick and asked me to cut a notch in it. 

 Then he smelled the chips and said, "That's pine." 



Once, when our neighbor's piggie had run 

 away into the woods, I said to him: "If that 

 piggie cries "Wolf!" twice when there is none, we 

 won't run to help him when the wolf really comes 

 and he calls for help a third time. So you see, pigs 

 and boys must never tell lies." To which the five- 

 year-old promptly replied, "Specially pigs!" 



It pays to make a fragrant garden for a boy 

 as bright as that. I very much doubt if he 

 would have been so bright had I not taken 

 pains to train all his senses. If children had all 



