"There's something wonderfully soothing in having your fingers in 

 Mother Earth. It seems to take the restlessness out of one. 



"The out-of-doors rests you, just like when you were little and things 

 went wrong, and your mother took you in her arms. The fret and the 

 trouble go out, and the quietness and the strength come in. I don't know 

 how it happens, but it does happen, and the touch of the earth has somettiing 

 to do with it. You feel as it the things that had concerned you were curiously 

 unimportant beside the sky and the birds and the growing things, and you 

 come in touch with the wonderful patience of the old earth." 



— Frances Duiccan. 



"When quite well and happy. 

 Work in the garden because you are glad. 



When weary and heart-sick. 

 Work in the garden because it will rest you. 



When it rains. 

 Work in the garden because then is the time to plant and weed. 



When the winds blow. 

 Work now to save the slender stalks from breaking. 



When there is drought. 

 Work in the garden to save your plants. 



When it is winter. 

 Work now to give sheltering care. 



When it is spring. 

 Work in the garden because everybody does. 



When it is summer. 

 Live in the garden to enjoy the fruits of your labor. 



When it is autimm. 



Work in the garden because now is the time to transplant, divide, and 

 multiply, and to lay down in the earth the glories for next summer." 



"If there is any other time when you cannot find an excuse for working 

 in the garden, remember that it was the first duty and place of man, and 

 that there is no philosophy of life, no beauty of art, which has not its seed 

 in the earth, or can flourish without knowledge of a garden. What, indeed, 

 was the punishment of Adam and Eve but to be driven out of their Eden ? " 



— Akna Lea Mekritt, 

 " My Garden," from Century Magazine^ 



[Vii] 



