146 THE JOY OF GARDENS 



them away to solace pain? It is the very next thing to 

 owning a fairy wand and to stepping into the fairy frolics 

 of fairyland itself. 



Therefore know all men on the word of a sage that 

 white day lilies do not bloom in vain, that their beauty 

 and purity are created for those in distress, and next them 

 is the foxglove digitalis whose juices distilled help the 

 weary of heart. To these add, for completeness' sake, 

 the decoctions of lavender, asphodel, and elder-blossom 

 tops, cut with a silver knife to the words of an incanta- 

 tion which warded off evil powers and preserved the heal- 

 ing virtues of the plant. 



The ceremony of distillation, brew, or extraction is a 

 serious process. Then comes the sealed bottling of the 

 purest of amber liquors, to be served in time in the tiniest 

 of crystal glasses perchance so treasured that a portion 

 is doled out in a deep-bowled silver spoon to the anxious 

 pensioner for aid. Just one visit of the ancient relative 

 herb gatherer is enough to change the entire aspect of the 

 garden in the mind's eye, and transform it from a pleas- 

 ure spot to an inclosure of mysteries. No one records 

 its secrets, which are told in whispers. 



Summer is hastening to the season of fruits. Let none 

 delay to look upon her meadows and through the groves, 

 for autumn is already on the threshold, lighting its 

 torches of goldenrod, fanning the blaze of its cardinal 

 flowers, and unveiling the stars of the aster tribes. 



