ON WINGS OF HOPE 3 



As day follows day we realize every whim of the 

 weather is a blessing in disguise, once the mind is made 

 up to think of gardens. From the window the landscape 

 is hidden by driving rain and sleet ; the walks are impass- 

 able. Nature has ruled that we stay at home and forget, 

 under the magic of the florist's catalogue, the theater in 

 town. 



The calendar warns that March is but a fortnight 

 away, when spring is due, and the skunk cabbage will be 

 up in the woods on a sunny bank, and hepaticas hang 

 their pale bloom on a sheltered southern slope. The sleet 

 may rattle against the windowpane and the wind howl 

 down the chimney; nevertheless it is time to begin gar- 

 dening, and to do it now as the legends say. 



We open the florist's gay booklet and mark the shrubs 

 and the trees we had planned to set out. A crimson 

 rambler should adorn the side window ; and small though 

 the lot is, it was decided at the last cold snap that a wind- 

 break of evergreens would be worth while to turn away 

 Boreas from the perennials and the exposed porches of 

 the dining room. 



Nature inspires the garden lover how to order a little 

 paradise on paper, and as for wisdom, there are abroad 

 wisacres aplenty only too glad to recite their experi- 

 ences. We can say to ourselves in perfect faith that 

 "Nature never did betray the heart that loved her," and 

 go our ways in adventures in gardening. If one seed is 



