violets and anemones. Grind it to powder by the 

 wayside and you have only made it into thistles 

 and burdock; scatter it over the fields and it be- 

 comes daisies and sunflowers. 



Imperceptibly, granite melts at its outer edge 

 into a fringe of dicksonia and wild rose. Lime- 

 stone will bring forth a richer garden than sand- 

 stone, as though, like the rock-maple, it had more 

 sweetness in its veins than another. Some of the 

 most delightful gardens arise from disintegrating 

 basalt. Perchance this rock retains a little of its 

 old volcanic heat and has more of the finer graces 

 in its make-up than that which was coldly laid 

 down under water. Fiery lava, tempered and mol- 

 lified by Time, has become kindly and amenable. 

 Where was only desolation, after countless days 

 the dicentra hangs out its white flags in truce to 

 the warring elements. The sand hillocks of the 

 terminal moraine are the chosen land of mountain 

 laurel, and there are untold acres where this con- 

 stitutes almost the sole undergrowth. What a 

 hanging garden, when, on a level with the eye, 

 one continuous bloom spreads through the twilight 

 of the woods — the single buds like miniature urns 

 of rose quartz so delicately are they sculptured, — 



S9 



