26 AN ISLAND GARDEN 



"The first instinct of the stem, . . . the instinct 

 of seeking the light, as of the root to seek dark- 

 ness what words can speak the wonder of it ? " 

 If " the seed falls in the ground with the spring- 

 ing germ of it downwards, with heavenly cunning 

 the taught stem curls round and seeks the never 

 seen light." The " taught " stem ! Who taught 

 it ? What he says of the leaves and stems is very 

 beautiful; every one should read it. I really do 

 not know which is most wonderful of these de- 

 scriptions of his, but nothing could be more strik- 

 ing than this definition : " A root is a group of 

 growing fibres which taste and suck what is good 

 for the plant out of the ground, and by their 

 united strength hold it in its place. . . . The thick 

 limbs of roots do not feed, but only the fine ends 

 of them, which are something between tongues 

 and sponges, and while they absorb moisture 

 readily, are yet as particular about getting what 

 they think nice to eat as any dainty little boy or 

 girl ; looking for it everywhere, and turning 

 angry and sulky if they don't get it." 



There could not be a better description than 

 this, and if any seedsman would like to make his 

 fortune without delay, he has only to have printed 

 on every packet of seed he offers for sale the 

 kind of soil, the food, required by each plant. 

 For instance, why not say of Mignonette, It flour- 

 ishes best in a poor and sandy soil ; so treated it 

 is much more fragrant than in a rich earth, which 

 causes it to run to leaves and makes its flowers 

 fewer and less sweet. Or of Poppies, Plant them 

 in a rich sandy loam, all except the Californias 



