236 THE GARDEN OF A 



April 15. The first hyacinths, daffodils at theh 

 height, and the Russian violets by the Mother Tree 

 a bed of glorious velvet bloom. 



To-day we filled an alcove between two snowball 

 bushes in the bed of the long walk, thick with bud- 

 ded pansy plants and tufts of English daisies. What 

 a delicate birch odour the pansies have ! 



April 1 8. Early tulips ablaze. All the narcissi 

 out except the polyanthus with its clustered blossoms, 

 and the poets, with the lovely pheasant's eye. The 

 hardy plants are. now tufting the long beds with 

 many shades of green. Forsythia is in golden glory. 

 The scarlet quince at full, and the countryside white 

 and pink with peach and cherry blossoms. 



May i. At last the Garden of Dreams has 

 awaked. It is ! After the healthful winter of snow 

 the whole land is a-bloom. All the bulbs are out 

 except the parrot tulips. Down by the spring hole 

 in the wild garden the marsh cowslips are heavy 

 with gold, and the same colour is swept across the 

 pastures by the dandelions. Is it not all my garden ? 

 All the cultivated and the wild, every flower and fern 

 in the wood arid open as well, for not only what I 

 plant is mine, but also everything that I enjoy. And 

 the birds, too, do they not belong to me through the 

 loving of them ? Though they must not know it ; 



