HEPATICAS 



DAYS IN MY GARDEN 



with fright ' that has outgrown the palisade of little 



spiked leaves around it, defying frost and drift of 



snow. 



And within us has come a feeling, a movement 



of the roots of our garden-love, a stirring, quicken- 

 ing, fluttering ; the fascinating touch of the 

 damp moist soil, the crackle of the seed 

 packet, the peculiar bursting noise of 

 the clump of perennials as the handles 

 of the two dividing forks meet, the sharp 

 click of the secateurs, a hundred memories 

 of happy sounds and proceedings are awakened 



and will not sleep again 



nor be discouraged 



by the intrusive 



thought of aching 



backs, sore hands 



and tired limbs. 



While the Christ- 

 mas rose was 



with us it was winter, 



but when the first little 



knob-heads of pink and blue hepaticas, which have 



FIRST CROCUS 



