Seeds 65 
die down in summer. The fourth spring they were again re- 
duced in number to seven—then dwindled to four; and now 
after five years of prayerful watching I am still on the waiting 
list, for it will take at least four years more for them to mature 
to a blooming size: nine years of faithful love for an uncer- 
tainty is a sore test for a gardener. Considering that, when 
full-grown, the large, fleshy roots are very brittle and perish- 
able, and must be packed with the utmost care to transport, 
it is evident that a mature Eremurus at three dollars is a bar- 
gain. The same thing is true in regard to roses, bulbs, or 
shrubs that seem costly; you are paying merely for carefully 
selected varieties plus the years of care you are saved in 
bringing stock to perfection; and the price is not exorbitant. 
In some ways there is great advantage in raising one’s own 
plants; they are perfectly acclimated; they can be transplanted 
under the most favorable conditions, at your own conven- 
ience, and plants are saved the long exposure of their roots 
to the air during transportation. Aside from these condi- 
tions, it is really necessary for one who grows many plants 
to know the seed leaves, in order to distinguish flowers from 
weeds. There are few things exactly alike in this world, but 
it takes an experienced eye to know Hesperis matronalis from 
the common wild primrose at an early age, or Lychnis roseum 
superbum from sorrel, Gaura Lindheimeri from smartweed, 
Nicotiana affinis from mullein, many of the tiny bulb seed- 
lings such as Hyacinthus candicans, Eremurus, Dianthus 
cruentus and iris from common grass, as well as to identify 
at once the little growths that spring up in the walks and 
over the garden. I not only know at a glance any bit of 
green an inch high of the many varieties I have raised from 
seed, but I can very shortly plant it in its proper color bed 
with definite certainty merely from the looks of the stem, leaf 
or manner of growth. I can tell at the third leaf whether a 
