186 THE JOY OF GARDENS 



of observers, whether ruddy or colorless, dwarfed or tall, 

 slender or corpulent, according to individual traits. All, 

 from the giant to the dwarf, are collectors of black 

 pearls; all enjoy the air they breathe and add a quota to 

 nature's great museum. 



While the curious west wind shakes the black pearls 

 from the receptacles of the cockscomb, at the same time he 

 tears snowy locks from the head of Madam Thistle, and 

 Fairy Thistledown spreads its snowy parachute and sails 

 away wherever fate may will. Madam Thistle is shut 

 out from Eden. Across the fence, along the dusty road 

 where the shallow earth barely veils the rock ridge, she 

 must make the best of an existence on sufferance. But 

 such is the paradox of life; bourgeois cockscomb is cher- 

 ished in good society; aristocratic thistle receives scanty 

 recognition. Pride and the consciousness of an ancient 

 lineage afford her consolation. 



My Lady Thistle loves the appearance of luxury. 

 Wherever fortune grants her a foothold she spreads out 

 her skirts of foliage with careful art. Each leaf is per- 

 fect with handsome curves and thorny spines guarding a 

 luscious green surface. The stem might have been copied 

 from the device of some clever engineer ; but truth puts it 

 just the other way the engineer studied nature's con- 

 struction and borrowed wit from the plant stem. 



Most wonderful of all is the blossom that crowns my 

 Lady Thistle. Set in a cup of green, protected and 



