The Happy Garden 



itself to look like any fibrous root, and it is no 

 respecter of persons. It has no manners, and when 

 it meets a bulb or tuber in the ground refuses to 

 go round, but bores its way straight through : while 

 with roots it will twist about, and over, and in, and 

 out, until it has strangled the life out of them. . . . 

 This plague, this serpent among weeds, this para- 

 site, had been left to do its very worst in the 

 shrubbery. 



War was declared, and a campaign was carried 

 on as bloody as that of the feud of MacPherson 

 against the clan MacTavish. It was hard labour 

 and durance vile, and success was not complete, 

 for still the green blades peep impudently here 

 and there, through the brown carpet ; but enough 

 was done to leave the ground clear for the tracing 

 of the river's bed. 



With the clearing of the shrubbery, wealth 

 undreamed of was unearthed. There were shrubs 

 enough to equip the whole new garden and all its 

 banks, and large enough to wall it off from the 

 lawn ; and there was a jolly little crab-tree, and 

 best of all, half an avenue of birches, in a direct 

 line with the gravel path which runs the whole 

 length of the top of the garden. It was easy to 

 complete the avenue ' by carrying it up to the 

 spruce tree, whence the river was designed to 



148 



