WITHIN MY GARDEN WALLS 



happy coincidence our two birthdays and the an- 

 niversary of our wedding day come before the 

 middle of April, for each occasion offers the op- 

 portunity of presenting seeds and plants. The 

 first time I tried this wholly disinterested act was when I made 

 a birthday offering of rose bushes to Adam. I liked the 

 thought of a living souvenir, which should yearly blossom in 

 celebration of the day; but I now have the idea that his hopes 

 may have been fixed elsewhere, for I not only had to explain 

 the reason for my choice, but he never remembers they are his, 

 and he takes no particular interest in their growth. Somehow 

 his indifferent attitude reminds me of an illustration I once 

 saw in which Algernon Sidney was bestowing a box of cigars 

 upon his young wife Angelina, who in turn presented to him, 

 as her gift, a pair of lace curtains. The artist caught Adam's 

 expression exactly when I introduced him to the roses. Per- 

 haps it is because of Adam's other-worldliness that he soars 

 above things terrestrial. A gleam of genuine pleasure lights 

 up his countenance when I give him a Greek book or new 

 neckties provided I do not make a fatal choice but the 

 smile and the gift are soon laid away, and it is like putting a 

 child through the catechism to find out later from him what 

 he actually received. In subsequent years I celebrated our 

 anniversaries in a way pleasing to myself. One February I 

 made myself a wedding gift of one hundred and fifty varieties 

 of plants, shrubs and seeds. A few omissions were supplied 

 in March on my own birthday. The next year my generous 



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