3 o THROUGH LIBRARY WINDOWS 



ness. One can easily miss it all and see only 

 the prosaic side of utility. I cannot keep a 

 garden account and reckon the price of each in- 

 describable joy. Is it not cheap at any price? 

 Beauty cannot be commercialized. Really, it 

 hurts me to keep exact accounts of all the out- 

 goes and incomes of my garden of dreams and 

 delights, ftly joys are too great and intense 

 to fit into the ruled pages of a cash-book. 

 Rather, they must be as free as the breezes and 

 birds and sunshine that play at will in every 

 part. 



The laying out of one's garden may be con- 

 sidered a liberal art, in some sort like poetry 

 and painting. It requires study, planning and 

 sketching, simple and elaborate. How that 

 first winter's leisure evening hours were spent 

 in studying florists' catalogues, nature books, 

 and almost infinite "garden series," so rich and 

 varied, taken from the public library. So many 

 had we taken that the librarian facetiously re- 

 marked, as she handed out the fiftieth volume, 

 "It seems to me you have the, garden craze." I 

 nodded and bore away my books in eager 

 ecstasy, and only thought of a long evening be- 

 fore us around the center-table, noting and dis- 

 cussing possible and vital points. 



What form and color schemes presented 



