THE GARDEN OF HERBS 185 



us; but of lowlier things. The wondrous beauty 

 of the dewdrop resting in the waxen curves of 

 red cabbage blades, the filigree network of savoy, 

 so good to look at, the fresh grey-green of pea 

 stems and tendrils, the fixed bayonets of sentinel 

 leeks keeping guard, undaunted, in coldest winter, 

 the crimson lustre of beet, the tints of feathery car- 

 rot in autumn, the exquisite grace of fennel all 

 these and a score of others lie in wait, in the sim- 

 plest garden, to arrest the eye and waken thoughts 

 of beauty. Did not the sculptor-artist of fair Mel- 

 rose find inspiration in such wise, for some of the 

 loveliest carving of pillar and cloister, from the 

 crested coleworts of the kailyard ? We all acknow- 

 ledge the charm of these common everyday things 

 when we notice them ; but more often we forget 

 to look, and thereby lose much joy and uplifting 

 above the drudgery of life. 



The progenitors of many of our ordinary garden 

 vegetables are to be found to this day growing 

 wild on our shores, or in fields and waste lands ; 

 but there are scarcely any, as has been said before 

 in these pages, for the culinary knowledge of which 

 we are not indebted to foreign intuition. Not only 

 does the original cabbage grow on sea cliffs of the 

 south and west English coast, and carrot and pars- 

 nip in fields and chalky banks, but celery and 

 asparagus and sea kale those choicer dainties 

 are simply native plants brought under cultivation, 

 though we English had not the wit to find out 

 their worth for ourselves. 



Besides water cress and mushrooms there is only 

 one other native English plant, a kind of perennial 



