OUR COUNTRY HOME 



syringa, the barberry, and some twenty more varieties of leaves 

 she was amazed and delighted. 



One day, it was the twenty-ninth of November, we discovered 

 that our window-boxes looked bare In fact there was apparently 

 nothing in them but carefully powdered and well-drained dirt. I 

 say apparently, for well we knew the beauty hidden beneath the 

 surface in the tulip bulbs for early spring decoration; but, as we 

 wanted some beauty at once, we started forth to see what Nature 

 could offer us at this inclement season. 



The Halliana honeysuckle was green in lovely flat sprays on 

 the terrace wall, and the Japanese clematis still kept some of it> 

 feathery fruits, but we wanted something to stand up bravely and 

 look in at us as we sewed or read by the sunny window. The 

 mountain sumac offered her bunches of rich crimson berries. Yes; 

 that would do for an occasional heavy note. The New England 

 aster spread her starry seed-cups to our admiring gaze. The very 

 thing! There, over beyond the dogwoods, was a waving field of 

 great feathery heads of golden-rod. We must have an armful of 

 them! In the wild garden, too, were tall spikes of the evening 

 primrose, half-blown milkweed pods, and wild peppermint, brown 

 and fluted. Just beyond the formal garden, along the path into 

 the woods, we found the curved cups of the Turk's-cap lily, the 

 prim flat bunches of the sedum spectabile, the delicate balls of the 

 boltonias, the brown heads of the cone-flowers large and small, and 



in the gravel pit the exquisite white feathers of the pampas grass. 



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