54 THE JOY OF GARDENS 



what they are art is not all. Man has viking passions 

 as well as Eden instincts, and the over-civilized man who 

 scorns feasting with common folk has lost primal sympa- 

 thy and much happiness. 



The sin of exclusiveness joins the theory of order in 

 advising the rejection of dandelions, daisies, and others 

 escaped from gardens. The flaunting tulip, in a fringed 

 coat of many colors, with a pedigree from Van Dam of 

 Holland which has cost more dollars than the dandelion 

 gatherer will ask in cents for a bushel of her spoils, roots 

 and all, dares not touch the hem of the dandelion or camo- 

 mile garment when it comes to the sturdy virtues of per- 

 sistence, endurance, and smiling in the face of adversity. 



And so it is with the host of the common people to-day 

 and to-morrow, ever attending to business in sunshine and 

 in rain, the best of company, striking roots deeper and 

 living up to the faith that 



"Who shuts his hand hath lost its gold, 

 Who opens it hath it twice told," 



as George Herbert so prettily tells it. He too belonged 

 to the brotherhood, and bequeathed us a magic book. 



When dandelions blow and the roadsides in the coun- 

 try are purple with violets, fair Phyllis in the garden 

 longs to transplant wild flowers to her beds and make 

 them her own. Violets will come gladly, because in their 



