32 THE JOY OF GARDENS 



Dip your brush in pink and wash in a tall clump of 

 foxgloves; the many colored hollyhocks would look well 

 hard by; the blue larkspurs must make a group by them- 

 selves; and there should be a clump of white phlox 

 the queens of the meadow. 



Fancy a long row of goldenglow following the paths 

 for autumn ; and to this side, where it may be seen, paint 

 a bleeding heart as the sign of the clump of dielytra, and, 

 where space is to spare, the peonies. 



For the sake of romance let there be a little violet bed 

 and a congenial place for lilies of the valley. The pro- 

 cession of perennials should keep pace with the sun, "the 

 daffodils that come before the swallow dares and take the 

 winds of March with beauty," and snowdrops celebrat- 

 ing Easter, the bleeding hearts at Whitsuntide, the 

 peonies and foxgloves for June, and the larkspur, holly- 

 hocks, and phlox abiding with sweet William all summer 

 until autumn glory brings down its own. 



To catch pleasure as it flies is a rare accomplishment. 

 The main thing is to grasp the opportunity, thanking the 

 stars that it is yours; and to make the best of it with a 

 cheerful heart, not questioning if it is great or small. 



A thrill of music on the air announces that April is 

 here, whispering in the tones of flutes and violins on the 

 three waxed cords of an eolian harp strung in the east 

 window. In a moment of vexation we turned to an irri- 

 tating draft that rebelliously defied the March blast, and 



