OUR COUNTRY LIFE 



the call of the chickadee on the sill — or the actual plant- 

 ing and seeing that long thought-of experiment materi- 

 alize! 



And then I want an evening garden — not a shut-in 

 space with walls, but a bit of the side hill facing south, 

 a wide path in an open glade which the moon would 

 flood and the stars explore. Over the entrance a trellis 

 covered with the moon flower from Japan ; within heli- 

 otrope and lovely Lady Nicotine should fill the air with 

 fragrance; and at the edge of the woods a rustic seat 

 overhung with masses of snowy jessamine should tempt 

 the guest to linger. Here would be a favorite spot on 

 summer evenings, and here once a year we 'd hold the 

 festival of the night-blooming cereus ! 



"In your care of the garden don't forget to enjoy it, 

 will you?" quizzically insisted a valued friend one day; 

 and there was so much truth in the warning that it 

 should be passed on to other caretakers. I found that I 

 was searching for the faults of my garden rather than 

 for its beauties, and seeing only its imperfections instead 

 of pausing at times to let its exquisite fairness sink into 



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