Robin Hood's Barn 



gold as trumpery and leaves a tarnish on your 

 heap of coin? 



Fortunately for my pride I have another 

 friend whose visitation is an act of grace. How 

 swift she is to understand my problems and the 

 goal towards which I work. My front garden 

 she remembers as a place of bleakness and of 

 grilling sunlight. How then have I transformed 

 it to this dim retreat? The gloss of willows, the 

 shadowing from maple and from fir tree will not 

 alone account for a breath of freshness and of 

 coolness like the breath of woods. And at once 

 she sees that the hint is not accidental; that here 

 I have chosen plants not only for their delicacy, 

 but their fragrance ; not for their intrinsic beauty, 

 but for the associations they suggest. Campan- 

 ulas and primroses, starry in their whiteness. 

 So pale anemones add depth to forest gloom. 

 Purple columbines, too heavy and too dingy in 

 the sunlight, lend a richness to the shadows and 

 an appropriateness to the little blades of ferns. 

 And planted close about the pool, the English 

 iris speaks the hidden moistness of the swamp. 

 Any one would think of using foxgloves ; but how 

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