154 
Old Time Gardens 
“ Methinks I see my contemplative girl now in 
the garden watching the gradual approach of Spring/’ 
wrote Sterne. My contemplative girl lives in the 
city, how can she know that spring is here ? Even 
on those few square feet of mother earth, dedicated 
to clotheslines and posts, spring sets her mark. 
Our Lilacs seldom bloom, but they put forth lovely 
fresh green leaves ; and even the unrolling of the 
leaves of our Japanese ivies are a pleasure. 
Our poor little strips of back yard in city homes 
are apt to be too densely shaded for flower blooms, 
but some things will grow, even there. Some wild 
flowers will live, and what a delight they are in 
spring. We have a Jack-in-the-pulpit who comes 
up just as jauntily there as in the wild woods ; 
Dog -tooth Violet and our common wild Violet also 
bloom. A city neighbor has Trillium which blos- 
soms each year; our Trillium shows leaves, but no 
blossoms, and does not increase in spread of roots. 
Bloodroot, a flower so shy when gathered in the 
woods, and ever loving damp sites, flourishes in the 
dryest flower bed, grows coarser in leaf and bloom, 
and blossoms earlier, and holds faster its snowy 
petals. Corydalis in the garden seems so garden- 
bred that you almost forget the flower was ever 
wild. 
The approach of spring in our city parks is marked 
by the appearance of the Dandelion gatherers. It 
is always interesting to see, in May, on the closely 
guarded lawns and field expanses of our city parks, 
the hundreds of bareheaded, gayly-dressed Italian 
and Portuguese women and children eagerly gather- 
