176 A LITTLE GARDEN THE YEAR ROUND 



gurgling spring, the voice of the golden- 

 throated oriole, the buzzing of the bumble bee 

 or the brushing of the frond of the Lady Fern 

 against the great gray rock to which she clung 

 for protection when mischievous Ariel began 

 his endless pranks. 



But now the creaking snow is jealous of all 

 nature, and the sound of your tread goes forth 

 like the shots of a miniature battery. The sun 

 will take revenge at noontime and now and 

 then dash to the earth some too-presuming 

 icicle that dares to cling to the branches of the 

 elm by the garden path. And Old Sol will 

 keep the face of the time-marking dial down 

 there free from being smothered by the relent- 

 less tyrant of the season, and if your fancy so 

 directs you may stroll in your garden in Janu- 

 ary after all and not find that the magic of 

 Jack Frost's fantastic doings has blotted out 

 the memory of the delicate handiwork embroi- 

 dered through the months of the Summer 

 solstice by goddess Flora herself. How the 

 place in a man's heart, the Garden, keeps warm 

 the thought of nodding Daisies, fragrant 

 Heliotropes and the sun-kissed Golden Glow! 

 We may shiver through the months of the short 



