THE USES OF ADVERSITY 51 



sunny colony; and Shasta daisies, sweet alyssum, candy- 

 tuft, sweet-scented stocks, rose geraniums, and lemon ver- 

 bena, planted irregularly, harmonize the variety of colors. 



Among the yellows to-day is a fine, tall snapdragon, 

 and the calendulas, coreopsis and calliopsis, and mari- 

 golds have not lost a whit of their gold. The pinks are a 

 host in themselves in bouquets, and for blues we must 

 have forget-me-nots, velvet pansies, lobelia, and larkspur; 

 in red, nothing finer than a poppy; for purple, heliotrope 

 and ageratum, and the tapestry of many-colored phlox, 

 aster, and zinnia, and, for fun, love-in-a-mist and ragged 

 robins. 



Yes, there are many more; but, as in life, too many 

 friends are as heartbreaking as none at all, when we can- 

 not gather them about us. Here, too, we must choose 

 the few who will sweeten our days. 



More than common piety must abide in the soul that 

 accepts the sweet uses of adversity without a murmur 

 when May borrows caprice of April, and with the windy 

 temper of a vixen drenches the newly-seeded beds and 

 washes the furrows into miniature rivers, creating rapids 

 from the plots of choice phlox to the cherished planta- 

 tions of pompon asters. All in the garden that was made 

 fit and fine has been the sport of the storm. 



How we had boasted of its neatness, and discoursed 

 with envious neighbors on what June had in store, and 

 the parades of July and of August, culminating in the 



