2 THE JOY OF GARDENS 



and tiny rills are coursing down the paths. The doves 

 have come out to sun themselves, cooing sweetly as they 

 patter to the eaves of the bam roof, and take short flights 

 to try their wings. We can almost hear the seeds stirring 

 in the earth where the full tide of sunshine falls upon it, 

 and the whole garden seems to bloom with the spirits of 

 flowers of other years. Then falls the afternoon; the 

 vision passes, and dull-cloaked February awaits in the 

 twilight. 



Yet we have lived through hours that have been glad, 

 and we shall not forget that spring has given the sign and 

 will burn her signal fires stolen from the sun faring north- 

 ward. Winter is over, and the making of gardens is at 

 hand. The miracle of grass and flowers will repeat itself, 

 for the promise of a new world is in the air, the mysteri- 

 ous vibration that quickens the pulses and awakens the 

 hopes that fell by the way with the autumn of yesteryear. 



The February days are golden opportunities to the 

 practical gardener, who counts them the appointed time 

 for making ready for the fetes of summer. By being 

 forehanded while frost is in the ground it is possible to 

 gain from two to four weeks in the following season. 

 Columbus saw the spice-laden islands of the East in his 

 dreams and steered for them, and the gardener makes his 

 charts and paints rosy pictures while gathering his tools 

 to launch on his undertaking. His course is bent accord- 

 ing to his desires, and his discovery flies their colors. 



