A WOMAN^S HARDY GARDEN 



helped to a^'oid the experiments and mistakes 

 I have made, which only served to cause 

 delay. 



But just this "please write it down," while 

 sounding so easy and presenting to the mind 

 such a fascinating picture of a well-printed, 

 well -illustrated and prettily bound book on 

 the garden, is quite a different matter to one 

 who has never written. A¥hen you diffidently 

 try to explain the chaos in your brain, family 

 and friends say, "Oh! never mind; just begin." 

 That often -quoted " pixmicr jpasf' 



To-day is the first snow-storm of the 

 winter, and, while sitting by the fireside, my 

 thoughts are so upon my garden, wondering 

 if this or that will survive, and whether the 

 plants remember me, that it seems as though 

 to-day I could try that first dreaded step. 



Living all my life, six months and some- 

 times more of each year, in the country, — real 

 country on a large farm, — I have from child- 

 hood been more than ordinarily interested in 

 gardening. Surrounded from babyhood with 



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