SPRING-FLOWERING BULBS 



sold and the house burned about thirty years 

 since, and all this time has been entirely 

 neglected. Some one told me that Daffodils 

 and Narcissi still bloomed there bravely in 

 the grass. With a cousin, one lovely day 

 last spring, I took the train out to this old 

 place and there found quantities of the dainty 

 yellow flowers. We had come unprovided 

 with any gardening implements, having noth- 

 ing of the kind in town, and brought only a 

 basket for the spoils, and a steel table-knife. 

 We quickly found the knife of no avail, so 

 borrowed a sadly broken coal-shovel from 

 a tumble-down sort of a man who stood gaz- 

 ing at us from the door of a tumble-down 

 house. The roots of the Daffodils were very 

 deep, and neither of us could use a spade, so 

 the driver of the ramshackle wagon taken 

 at the station was pressed into service. 

 Handling of shovel or spade was evidently 

 an unknown art to him. The Daffodil roots 

 were nearly a foot deep , but we finally got 

 them, several hundreds of them, all we could 



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