CONCERNING LAWNS 341 
green carpet embroidered with heart-shaped golden 
leaves. Naturally, when I saw the gardener coming 
on with his broom, I cried out aloud and brought 
the lady of the house on the scene, and she graciously 
ordered him off. It was only when I went up to 
town that he was allowed to work his will. 
I now propose to tell the story of another lawn 
of which I had the supervision for two or three 
months; a small lawn at a cottage surrounded by 
green fields lent to me by a friend one summer 
end; it was mowed and looked after generally by 
a man who came once a week from the village, 
and he also had the garden to see after. In July 
and August, when the sun was low enough to 
‘allow one to sit out of doors and of the shade of 
trees I lounged and read and drank my tea there, 
and noticed that it was abundantly sprinkled with 
plantains. Now I don’t mind plantains on a lawn 
because, as I have already said and ingeminated, 
lawns are nothing to me unless flowers are allowed 
to blossom and leaves blown from coloured woods 
to lie on them, but I remembered my friends who 
had lent me their paradisaical retreat with its 
green lawn from which, idling in my canvas chair, 
I looked on a green valley and a swift chalk stream 
with coots and moorhens disporting themselves on 
it, and beautiful hanging woods beyond. I remem- 
bered them, and in my desire to do something to 
express my gratitude I said I would clear this one 
lawn of its plantains. 
Going to the tool-house, I found a long, narrow, 
