COMMUTER'S WIFE 169 



tufts of ebony spleenwort, pipsissewa, or partridge 

 berry that from time to time I added to the little wild 

 fernery that lives in the middle of the dinner table. 



" Are you ready for winter ? " asked Evan, who 

 had been away for a few days' visit to an F. M. (an 

 American title signifying Financial Mightiness) 

 whose recent purchase of a tract of forest, field, and 

 river was to be turned into a home park. 



" Is any one ever ready to be shut in or see the 

 friendly earth so seemingly dead ? But if you mean 

 have I done all the outdoor gardening that is pos- 

 sible before spring, I can certainly say that I have, 

 and that I am ready for winter. The narcissus, 

 Bermuda lilies, Roman hyacinths, early tulips, and 

 freezias are all potted and buried in the cold frame, 

 ready to be brought in succession as house plants. 

 I've sown ounces, in fact quite half a pound of 

 Shirley poppy seed in front of the hardy plants, the 

 entire length of the walk on the way to the sun 

 garden ; the perennials have cedar bough windbrakes 

 over them, the old roses are mulched with coarse 

 litter, and the new ones are all bonneted with straw 

 after the most approved fashion. The only thing 

 remaining to be done when the ground freezes for 

 good is to cover the bulbs outside the study win- 

 dows. 



