A GARDEN DIARY 237 
SEPTEMBER 10, 1900 
a aes year has more than run its complete round 
since these loosely connected jottings were 
begun, so that it is high time that they shut the 
cover down upon themselves, and withdrew into 
acorner. Diary-keeping, like knitting, like whit- 
tling, like any other of the minor distractions, 
begins often with more or less effort, yet after 
a time becomes, first a habit, finally almost a 
necessity. Entered upon without any particular 
motive, it creates a place for itself, it fills a 
void, it becomes a solace. The practice of the 
diarist varies, of course, almost infinitely. It may 
mean merely that conscientious daily record, to 
which alone the words “journal,” “diary,” “ day- 
book” properly belong, or it may enlarge its 
scope until it covers all those looser, and neces- 
arily more intermittent outpourings, in which 
most of us from time to time indulge, whether 
for our weal or our woe depends largely upon 
circumstances. 
One merit it certainly has. Few mediums of 
