SPRING 59 



Now, we pull down the books and mag- 

 azines on gardening; likewise the seeds 

 which are to grow into vines that will climb 

 all over the ward and star themselves with 

 flowers as big as soup-plates, as brilliant 

 as Solomon and society at the opera, but 

 less sounding than either. We go out and 

 poke the crooked spade into the ground, 

 and fetch up a rich assortment of old boots, 

 rubbers, bustles, oyster-cans, spikes, cin- 

 ders, cobblestones, and other reminders 

 that this is " improved property" save the 

 mark ! This is the beginning of joy. The 

 birds are coming back to other people ; 

 the brooks are tinkling just listen to our 

 gutter; and the flowers will be here by 

 and by ; but ah ! will they be according to 

 those vivid colored catalogues of the seeds- 

 men ? Verily, I have a fear ; for many 

 benefits turn to blights. There is the 

 manure that we paid the stable-keeper a 

 dollar a load for, last fall, and look at what 

 we are getting from it : insects, eggs, co- 

 coons, wireworms, centipedes, all brought 

 in with that enrichment. Sometimes it 

 does n't seem worth while to reform, be- 



