GARDENING BY M YSELF. g 



rose, but for the two old brothers the blos- 

 soms are always blue. (I know I'm right 

 now !) They have their secret, as to the 

 • how and the why. 



Next door to a small city church that I 

 have seen, stands the Sunday School house ; 

 and in the third floor of this lives the sexton. 

 His little windows look down upon city 

 yards — poor specimens, some of them ; — and 

 only the eastern lookout makes his windows 

 bright. 



Across one of the windows, trained from 

 side to side till the whole is covered with a 

 net-work of twigs and leaves and blossoms, 

 a honeysuckle stretches its pretty sprays, 

 growing contentedly in a pot on that third 

 story window-sill. Or if not contentedly — 

 yet hiding its discontent in the most suc- 

 cessful endeavors to brighten the small 

 world in which it lives. I said it was the 

 sexton's window — but I am quite sure the 

 honeysuckle belongs to his wife. 



In a poorer home than this, in a tene- 

 ment garret in London, stands an ivy ; its 



