ft 



always with us. In the mofussil, matters assume a more serious 

 aspect. Porcupines are frequent visitors, and do a lot of dam- 

 age. Wild boars are even more destructive, for they have a 

 fondness for roots, and beds of carrots, turnips, etc., are much 

 sought for. We remember a wild boar hunt in the " Ram 

 Newas " public gardens at Jeypore, in Rajputana, when a 

 " sounder " of six tore through a galvanized wire fence and 

 caused havoc in the gardens. Four of the visitors were ac- 

 counted for. Leopards used to destroy the animals in the deer 

 park in the same gardens, and it was not until after many nights 

 of sitting up that the marauders were accounted for. It was not 

 an uncommon experience for the Superintendent to find a pair 

 of leopards promenading round his dwelling house in the gardens. 

 He always slept with a loaded rifle by his bedside. Perhaps the 

 most destructive pest that the Indian gardener has to contend 

 against is the white ant. Nothing is safe from this termite. 

 Wood, whether living or dead, is attacked. Even iron work is 

 not safe from its attacks. Other wild beasts, in the shape of 

 wolves and hyenas, are not un frequent visitors. Field rats are 

 also a scourge, and when a swarm of locusts descends on a gar- 

 den, scarcely a leaf is left. These are some of the " diversions " 

 that vary the monotony of the Indian gardener's life. 



THE OPENING OF A FLOWER. 



It was late in an afternoon of August that I sauntered into 

 my garden, having a little season of leisure to spend there. The 

 buds of the Four-o'clock or Marvel of Peru had just begun to 

 unroll. Why not watch the unfurling of a flower, which was 

 to spend its odors on the night and shrivel with to-morrow's sun ? 

 The common things are those which few people see, nor care or 

 think to see. To the true observer there is nothing great and 

 nothing small, for all things are alike marvelous and noteworthy ; 

 nothing is commonplace, all is miracle. So I sat in the garden- 

 path before the lusty Four-o'clock bush, with its hundred blos- 

 som-buds, singling out one for special eyeing. 



