in some corner till the following autumn, when 

 they are ready again to perform their duties 

 afresh and cheer us with their bright looks. 



When we are accustomed to the usual 

 profusions of daily life even an isolated joy like a 

 single flower in winter is a real pleasure. It is 

 profusion that kills all the enjoyment of life, the 

 secret of which is moderation. If one could 

 only always be on one's guard and stop short of 

 satiety! When once the demon of satiety takes 

 possession true enjoyment is gone. Our motto 

 should be " always to get up from the table of 

 pleasure hungry." To satiate an appetite is not 

 only to destroy it for the time being, but on each 

 occasion to blunt its edge for future use, till after 

 a short time its keenness becomes increasingly 

 and irretrievably dulled. We know this and 

 realize its truth ; but how many of us, in the mad 

 race for saturation of enjoyment, can make it a 

 rule to be strictly adhered to? 



My petunias had produced in the autumn a num- 

 ber of self-sown seedlings which looked fresh and 

 strong when the parent was dying in their midst, 

 like the little scorpions I have seen eating their 

 4 49 



