90 MY GARDEN 



and the snow ; the purple and gold ; the blue and 

 orange ; the scarlet and cream ; the greys and silvers 

 basking on scorching stones ; the forms ; the swaying 

 movement of countless petals and stalks ; the dance 

 of the heat at noon and the savour of earth and 

 flowers when my white rockery gets an evening bath 

 these things, of which only a fraction can be 

 uttered, make up what is a restful toy to me. All 

 was planted with my own hands ; and that is not the 

 least part of the pleasure of it. 



