GARDEN OF A COMMUTER'S WIFE 39 



lungs for whom outdoor work has been advised, who 

 are naturally depressed and must not be expected 

 to turn over the soil more than half a spade's depth. 

 These we also pity. But we wholly fail to appreciate 

 the services of the next grade the natural fools, 

 whose relatives steer them into gardening as a fitting 

 occupation. These three classes may be excused 

 as unfortunates not wholly responsible for the dis- 

 appointments they cause. 



The most trying type of all, however, is the one 

 that I found here on my return, the know-it-all in- 

 dividual who, after spending a few months in potting 

 cuttings for a florist, and mowing dooryards, adver- 

 tises, " Wanted, a position by a graduate gardener, 

 to take entire charge of a gentleman's place. Can 

 milk." He doesn't say will milk, mind you ! Oh, 

 if unsophisticated folk only realized the tragedy con- 

 centrated in those two words, Can milk ! 



Once arrived, he assumes the dignity of a profes- 

 sional, and considers himself as far above the mere 

 labourer who cheerfully spits on his hands and 

 wields the spade, as our present housemaid, a 

 young Irish-American whom father has with diffi- 

 culty coaxed from the factory work that was killing 

 her "to accommodate," and who is betrothed to a 

 factory youth, whom she marries at Christmas, and 



