64 NATURE IN A CITY YARD 



busy, if he did n't. He has made himself 

 responsible for it ; he has jibed his conduct 

 to that of nature ; he is a creator, in a way, 

 and it hurts his pride a little if he can't 

 raise beans. And it is a serene and pretty 

 satisfaction to see things come out of the 

 earth. It is as big a mystery as it was 

 when man did no planting and did no 

 thinking with his teacupful of brains, save 

 of the wherewithal to be fed. As they rise 

 out of the soil, these shoots are so alike for 

 some days that we, with our ill-trained 

 eyes, puzzle over their identity. What we 

 decide to be a daisy is a plantain, and our 

 lily in the other bed is an orchid. But 

 they all stick loyally to their type, and the 

 genista never turns out to be an apple-tree. 

 Once we coddled a weed for a month, in 

 the supposition that it was argeratum. It 

 grew from the spot where we had one of 

 these plants ; so far as its leaves were con- 

 cerned, it bej.t the argeratum, too, and did 

 not have a horde of green, repellent grubs 

 upon it, either. 



Such a fresh rainbow-green as these 

 new things wear ! The eye never tires of 



