22 MORE POT-POURRI 



is lower, and no cypresses point upwards. The moral to 

 me is quite clear : gardeners should only go away from 

 home to learn, not to see how beautiful the world is else- 

 where without any gardens at all, the science of life being 

 to make the best of what we have to our hand, not to 

 pine for what we have not. 



September 5th. The dryness continues, and we wait 

 in vain for rain. The weather makes us doubly appreciate 

 the small square of cool water just in front of the dining- 

 room window, and the pleasure it seems to bring to bird 

 and insect. Great fat thrushes splash themselves in the 

 shallow edges specially prepared for them with big 

 stones, as they seem much afraid of deep water. Two of 

 us were sitting at early breakfast when my companion 

 said to me in a subdued voice, ' Look there ! ' I saw, 

 perched on a hanging branch of the rose growing on the 

 Pergola, the most beautiful Kingfisher. His blue wings 

 flashed in the sunshine, and, turning his red breast, it 

 glowed like that of a tropical bird. In a few seconds he 

 flew away. I have never before seen a Kingfisher iu 

 this dry garden, and I can only account for it, as we are 

 more than a mile from the river, by something peculiar 

 in the season and his being attracted, in his search for 

 food, by the gold-fish in my little fountain. A friend told 

 me that the same thing happened in her garden, and that 

 the Kingfisher, never seen before, beat himself against 

 the glass window. 



One of the few things that looked really well in the 

 garden when I came home was the Cape annual, Nemesia 

 strumosa. The dryness apparently had suited the 

 flowering capabilities of the annual, but, finding that it 

 was forming no seed, I watered it daily, as it is one of 

 the plants from which it is well worth while to save the 

 seed, selecting it from the best-coloured flowers. The 

 seed wants a good deal of care in the gathering, as it is so 



