THE LURE OF THE GARDEN 



the perfect blooms ; but no pleading eyes or outstretched 

 hands will persuade them to the sacrifice of a single 

 flower. And their garden, howsoever riotous of color 

 and sweet odor, has a shadow upon it, a chill at its 

 heart that all the sunshine in the world cannot quite 

 dispel. 



But, really, most garden vices are absurd, even at- 

 tractive failings, at which you can afford to smile how- 

 ever you may suffer by them. Gardeners are usually 

 gentle folk, a little queer, possibly, a bit given to 

 unusual hours and odd enthusiasms, and rather care- 

 less of more important matters such as Wall Street 

 and ocean travel but harmless after all, and even in 

 their worst moments easy to placate with a package 

 of seeds or a few roots. Their most obsessing sin, 

 perhaps, is proselyting, and a narrowness of view that 

 divides the world, for them, into simply two classes, 

 the gardening and the non-gardening. But, with all 

 their faults, they are a lovable class, and they are in- 

 veterately happy. 



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