THE FIRST SPRINKLING OF SNOW. 



Photograph by Frith Cr CV., Rtii^ate. 



THE GARDEN IN WINTER 



By H. H. THOMAS 



THE garden is the last place to which 

 most of us would turn for enjoy- 

 ment in the depth of \\-inter ; the 

 cold, wet ground is unpleasant to the 

 tread, the grass is damp and dank, and 

 all that meets the superficial eye tends 

 to promote depression. Yet the garden 

 in winter is by no means as bad as it 

 seems, but more than a passing glance is 

 needed to disccjver its beauties. That 

 winter has its own peculiar charm, e\'en 

 Cowper, most melancholy of poets, admits, 

 for he says of this season : 



" I love thee, all unlovely as thou seemest, 

 And dreaded as thou art." 



As with our world, so with our garden. 

 60 46 



each is very much as we make it. A 

 garden can scarcely be altogether void of 

 interest in winter, neglect it how we may, 

 and it ought to be full to overflowing of 

 hidden joj'S and unsuspected beauties. 

 The aspect of the garden is often, and 

 more especially in winter, a reflex of 

 ourselves or of the mood in which it 

 finds us ; a discontented mind fails to 

 appreciate the subtle beauties of the 

 leafless garden ; these come home only to 

 those of tranquil mood. The last two 

 lines of an old song, quoted by Canon 

 Ellacombe. might be offered as a passport 

 to aU who would full}' enjoy their gardens 

 in the dull season of the year. They may 

 be aptly apphed to the garden lover, since 



