94 A GARDEN DIARY 
FEBRUARY 7, I900 
. ~ the very top of its strength!” Cold as it 
has been of late, I hardly expected to find 
no garden left when I got up to-day! So it is 
however. Late last night everything seemed 
normal. This morning our little Dutch garden 
has vanished utterly ; swept out of existence as 
though it had never existed. From centre 
to margin—beds, borders, walks, red walls, 
everything—the entire little depression has been 
covered with a uniform white blanket, effacing it 
completely, and restoring the landscape to what 
it was before man, woman, or measuring tapes 
arrived to trouble it. For the plants this new 
state of things is an improvement, but how 
about our work? Behold us suddenly reduced 
to a state of deadlock; all our various little 
activities brought to an absolute standstill. The 
paths that were being cut through the copse ; 
the ground that was being got ready for grass- 
sowing; the flower-beds that had to be clipped 
into the right shape ; the heather that was being 
