THE CHARM OF GARDENS 



vegetables for the poor and for his own needs. Prayer, 

 love of his labour, and care for the things he grew filled 

 his life." 



My tailor interrupted here to ask, apologetically, 

 what manner of garden Saint Phocas would have. 



" Neat beds," said I — for I had gone into the matter 

 myself — " edged with box. The flowers and vegetables 

 growing together. Violets, Leeks, Onions, with Crocuses, 

 Narcissus, and Lilies. Then, in their season, Gladiolus, 

 Hyacinths, Iris, Poppies, and plenty of Roses. Melons, 

 also, and Gherkins, Peaches, Plums, Apples and Pome- 

 granates, Olives, Almonds, Medlars, Cherries, and Pears, 

 of which quite thirty kinds were known. In his house, 

 on the window ledge, if he had one, he may have grown 

 Violets and Lilies in window pots, for they did that in 

 those days." 



" Now, isn't that interesting ? " said the tailor. 

 " My sister will care to know that. I shouldn't be a 

 bit surprised to find her putting a statue of Saint Phocas 

 over the door. She's all for figures." 



" I'm afraid," said I, " there will be some trouble 

 over that. There is a statue of him in Saint Mark's 

 in Venice, a great old man with a fine beard, dressed 

 like a gardener, and holding a spade in his hand. There's 

 one of him, too, in the Cathedral at Palermo, but I 

 have never seen them copied. Now I must tell you the 

 rest of the story. - 



" There were days, you know, when Christians were 

 hunted out and killed. One evening there came to the 

 house of the Saint, two strangers. It was the habit 

 of this good man to give of what he had to all travellers, 

 food, rest, water to bathe their feet, and a kindly wel- 

 come. On this occasion the Saint performed his hos- 

 pitable offices as usual — set the strangers at his board, 

 prepared a meal for them, and led them afterwards to a 



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