and basket we are prepared to invite any beauti- 

 ful thing we see to make its home with us. Thus 

 we have carpeted with wild violets all the damp, sun- 

 less ground on the north side of the house where 

 grass *would not grow. I know of a beautiful place 

 in the south where the many large trees in front of 

 the house made it impossible to have a lawn; wild 

 violets solved the problem there. They were planted 

 so as to cover the entire ground right up to the tree 

 roots; even when not blooming the violets make a 

 rich, dark, velvety surface, which never needs mow- 

 ing. 



The fall is the ideal time to remove wild things, 

 and it is then that the garden itself demands less, 

 the days are cooler and the world so full of color 

 one feels a greater inclination to take long tramps; 

 the fields are aflame with goldenrod, the roadsides 

 glowing with sumach, each fence and old post trans- 

 figured by the crimson creepers, and deep in the 

 forest shadows shines the beacon light of the dog- 

 wood. 



Poring over catalogues and the ordering of seed is 

 indeed an exciting and alluring phase of gardening, 

 but it seems prosaic indeed compared to the delight- 

 ful circumstances under which we become the pos- 



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