70 THE JOY OF GARDENS 



and soft whisperings of the breeze celebrate the festival 

 of purple phlox, wake-robins, buttercups, violets, and 

 radiant marsh marigolds reflecting purest sunshine where 

 the brook winds into the open meadows. 



Sing, one and all, and send greeting in this "wondrous 

 lovely month of May," when the human heart receives 

 once more celestial benediction from the skies, and can 

 swing its censer with the incense of love and adoration 

 for all thoughts bright and beautiful, and none dares say 

 it nay. 



Look out of thy window and abroad. What is there 

 within eye reach to meet in kindly greeting beyond the 

 sprouts in your flower beds? What torch have you 

 kindled to lighten a flame at your neighbor's shrine? 

 You need not journey to Lassa to meet curiosity and 

 strange folk, nor need you draw money from the bank to 

 buy a tonic to warm hearts. 



There is a little crooked fence, maybe, near the back 

 door, separating your lot from the weedy wilderness of 

 the busy person hard by. Imagine her delight when she 

 looks out of her north window some morning and sees a 

 barren line of boards covered with climbing nasturtiums 

 unfurling chalices of ruddy orange and gold amid set- 

 tings of malachite. 



If by chance a passer-by takes his privilege of cutting 

 blooms creeping through the palings, what matter? You 

 have sent a greeting of flowers to some one who wanted 



