MY SHRUBS 125 
struggling under increasing difficulties. For the Devon County 
Council has lifted up a huge Secondary School within ten yards of 
my garden. I begged them to respect old covenants under which I 
purchased my home, but they would not. The peace of a Devonian 
man of letters is nothing weighed against a cheap site for a public 
building ; so my plea was swept aside, compensation refused, and 
my garden and dwelling rendered valueless. In some countries 
they would have respected a serious artist—not in England. Even 
in some counties they might have thought twice before inflicting 
this grave wrong upon me; but not in my own county. Still, until 
the Devon County Councillors commandeer my scanty acre for 
their own purposes, and bid me go hence, I shall continue to cultivate 
shrubs and contentment therein. These unexpected tribulations 
must leave no scar, for men are like wolves: they will do things 
when hunting in a pack that their cowardice would make them 
shrink from single-handed. Combined, these worthy but unsports- 
manlike souls possessed a giant’s power ; and they used it like a 
giant. 
Last winter in The Times there appeared an article on how a 
gardener should enjoy his garden. I may quote from this pro- 
nouncement, and declare that even thus do I take pleasure in my 
modest garth. Only so may the full flavour and blessed anodyne 
of the garden be properly appreciated : 
“The successful gardener is he who can enjoy his garden when 
he is alone in it, as simply as though it were a spring meadow round 
his house. He may have done what he will with nature ; but all 
his labours will seem like nature to him, when he rests from them, 
and he will forget that his flowers owe their well-being to his skill. 
As for other gardens, there may be many more beautiful, and he 
