MY AMBITION GROWS 



TONG before the first summer was over I felt the 

 need of more room. The twenty-five-foot area 

 was but a narrow chrysalis shell, and I determined 

 to spread my wings another season. Then, too, 

 I did not like the things that went on in that impenetrable 

 jungle outside the walls. Almost any hour of the day one 

 could hear strange noises within its depths, rustling sounds, 

 fugitive glimpses of snakes, chipmunks and red squirrels. In 

 October I cleared a new piece about twenty-five feet by forty 

 of rocks and bushes, and looked upon the daily exercise as an 

 outdoor game rather than work. I had learned to use my 

 tools more intelligently; the shovel more often replaced my 

 threadbare hands in removing earth; occasionally I remem- 

 bered to put on gloves. 



It has been my privilege recently to read how a lady con- 

 ducts herself in a garden, and I now see how I have defied 

 every convention in the matter of garden etiquette. The book 

 must have been written at a time when damsels were addicted 

 to tight lacing and swoons, for the author apologizes grace- 

 fully for the lady who wants to garden, -and her advice is ob- 

 viously to give courage to a feeble sisterhood. 



"It must be confessed," writes my English authority, "that 

 digging appears, at first sight, a very laborious employment, 

 and one peculiarly unfitted to small and delicately formed 

 hands and feet;" and then, after a careful explanation of the 

 way mere man performs the operation, she continues; "A 

 Jady with a small light spade, may, by repeatedly digging over 



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