A GARDEN NOTE-BOOK 



The subject of the garden in winter is not a 

 new one. Long, long ago Addison put his deUght 

 in his winter garden into words of beauty. To the 

 true gardener the very breath of Kfe is in that 

 essay. To-day Katherine Tynan, in a charming 

 lyric, "The Winter Garden," sings the theme as 

 only an Irish singer can. I look through the win- 

 dow at my own bit of ground and am not only 

 comforted, consoled, but stimulated by all that 

 others have written concerning gardens in winter, 

 I begin to think of the value of winter to the gar- 

 dener as well as to the garden. Now it is that 

 the mind turns back upon itself. Now thoughts 

 of flowers must replace the actual flowers. Those 

 imagined, whether faint or bright, must be one's 

 consolation now. And the very contrast between 

 the real garden of a summer past and the fancied 

 garden of a summer to come is, must be, a spur 

 to better and more perfect following of the dear 

 pursuit. 



Days there are in April possessed of a blue-and- 

 green splendor not surpassed by those of June, 

 These are the days when the very glass of one's 

 window seems more crystalline for the glories seen 

 through it. Such greens, such delicate shadows of 

 trees upon turf, blurred just a bit by the soft out- 



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