210 MORE POT-POURRI 



very successful himself) is digging the holes quite four 

 feet deep, filling them in with leaf-mould and the light 

 earth, and planting the roots a foot below the surface, 

 and then they have two feet of loose soil to work down 

 into. I hope they may be successful ; I do hate being 

 beaten. At least some must succeed, one would think, 

 planted in five different situations. They have to be 

 labelled with large white labels, as the great danger, if 

 one's back is turned, is of their being dug up. 



Driving last year on this day, I find I noticed the 

 Nettles were well up in the hedges and just ready for 

 picking, and the catkins were hanging from the Hazel 

 boughs. A little Celandine on a moist bank opened its 

 yellow star in the sun. I have never seen it cultivated 

 in gardens, which weed though it is seems a pity, and 

 I think I shall try it in patches under some shrubs. No 

 doubt it is rather its early appearance than its shining 

 beauty that has made it so loved of the poets. Words- 

 worth describes it and its surroundings with grace and 

 truth in the following well-known poem : 



Pansies, Lilies, King-cups, Daisies, 



Let them live upon their praises ; 



There's a flower that shall be mine, 



'Tis the little Celandine ! 



Ere a leaf is on a bush, 



In the time before the thrush 



Has a thought about its nest, 



Thou wilt come with half a call, 

 Spreading out thy glossy breast, 



Like a careless prodigal ; 

 Telling tales about the sun, 

 When we've little warmth or none. 



Careless of thy neighbourhood, 

 Thou dost show thy pleasant face ; 



On the moor and in the wood, 

 In the lane there's not a place, 



Howsoever mean it be, 



But 'tis good enough for thee. 



