298 THE GARDEN OF A 



christened this time the " philosophical hour," saying 

 that as under modern pressure one needs to give an 

 hour out of every twenty-four to this cult, the earlier 

 it comes in the day, the better. 



August 20. I have realized anew the almost 

 spiritual beauty of the common morning-glory. I 

 avoided planting these flowers anywhere about the 

 garden, because they seed so freely that they soon 

 become an annoyance, strangling more important 

 plants, and even tangling up the vegetables mis- 

 chievously. Instead, I have given them a screen 

 that breaks the bareness of the tool house, and 

 let them run riot. The leaves are not especially 

 notable, being rather coarse ; but the flowers are 

 as exquisite in their richly coloured fragility as if 

 Aurora, in the bath, had amused herself by blowing 

 bubbles. These, catching the sunrise glow, floated 

 away upon the breeze, and falling on a wayside 

 vine, opened into flowers that from their origin 

 vanish again under the sun's caress. 



Among all their colours none is more beautiful or 

 usual than the rich purple with the ruddy throat 

 merging to white night shadows melting into the 

 clear of dawn. 



