A GARDEN NOTE-BOOK 



in mid-January when daylight lasts an hour longer 

 than in December; that blue of the January sky 

 which hints, intangibly hints, of bluer skies to 

 come, the warmer sun. On such days I venture 

 forth into a snow-covered garden, look carefully 

 over shrubs and trees here and there, scrape the 

 bark of a rose or thorn, hoping to find beneath that 

 faithful strip of green, the proof of life and strength. 

 So walking, I come to a spot which, almost hidden 

 by snow, is a source of warm delight; and it is 

 only the mind that makes it so, the memory 

 and the imagination. On a hot August day of 

 last year I suddenly realized that a pair of Cox's 

 Orange Pippin trees flanking the entrance of the 

 main garden to the grassy slopes of the orchard 

 were really grown. They cast full-grown shadows. 

 At once chairs were brought and a garden tea- 

 table, and the true enjoyment of those trees 

 began. Two garden benches then were set along 

 the edges of the gravel walk, just within the gar- 

 den, and also beneath the Pippin's shade. The 

 popularity of this sitting-place was at once estab- 

 lished. Where the two chairs stood, just outside 

 the garden, they were backed by tall lilacs growing 

 almost under the young apples, by Spircea Thun- 

 bergii and by a few deutzias, well grown. But now 



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