142 THE GARDEN OF A 



even more arid and monotonous than the city 

 streets. I simply shudder at the awfulness of 

 new places, where a level onion field perhaps, hav- 

 ing survived its usefulness and sunk into weedy 

 slumber, awakes with a start so find a trolley whiz- 

 zing down the highway to the market town. 

 Straightway it is dissected, and offered in building 

 plots of the " Why pay rent ? Build your home 

 on easy terms " order. 



One can readily tell what these hot little gardens 

 will be ; for even though the witch's cauldron period 

 has passed, there are other stock floral ornaments 

 for small lawns, the coleus anchor and the weeping 

 purple beech, a small tree that owes its lachrymose 

 appearance to having branches grafted on upside 

 down, so that eventually they grovel in the dirt. 

 The strange thing is that on a nearby cross-road 

 an acre or two of virgin soil with a dozen good 

 trees may often be had at the same price as the 

 arid lot. 



" But," says some willing though gardenless 

 woman, " my parents did not have a garden for 

 me to inherit. Am I therefore to be shut out of 

 Eden? What am I to do?" 



Do ? Buy the ground on the cross-road with 

 the trees, and make a garden with all possible 



