1 6 AN ISLAND GARDEN 



sulphur to flame, king's flowers, I call them, 

 stately and splendid. 



All these and many more are planted. For 

 those that do not bear transplanting I prepare 

 other quarters, half filling shallow boxes with 

 sand, into which I set rows of egg-shells close 

 together, each shell cut off at one end, with a 

 hole for drainage at the bottom. These are filled 

 with earth, and in them the seeds of the lovely 

 yellow, white, and orange Iceland Poppies are 

 sowed. By and by, when comes the happy time 

 for setting them out in the garden beds, the shell 

 can be broken away from the oval ball of earth that 

 holds their roots without disturbing them, and 

 they are transplanted almost without knowing it. 

 It is curious how differently certain plants feel 

 about this matter of transplanting. The more 

 you move a Pansy about the better it seems to 

 like it, and many annuals grow all the better for 

 one transplanting; but to a Poppy it means death, 

 unless it is done in some such careful way as I 

 have described. 



The boxes of seeds are put in a warm, dark 

 place, for they only require heat and moisture till 

 they germinate. Then when the first precious 

 green leaves begin to appear, what a pleasure it 

 is to wait and tend on the young growths, which 

 are moved carefully to some cool, sunny chamber 

 window in a room where no fire is kept, for heat 

 becomes the worst enemy at this stage, and they 

 spindle and dwindle if not protected from it. 

 When they are large enough, having attained to 

 their second leaves, each must be put into a little 



