A DAY’S HARD WORK 
85 
“It Is a fine* collection,” the old man commented. 
“The yellow bell will bloom along with your own 
in April, the spireas will be like brides in June, and 
that little Deutzia will be coming on In July. The 
smoke-bush will be all feathery In August, and for 
September you have the hydrangeas lasting until 
frost.” 
“But May has been skipped,” Little Joseph said. 
“Indeed, then, you have the dogwood,” Timothy 
answered briskly, “and your own three lilacs, which 
did your Aunt Amanda every year as long as I can 
remember. It is October that has been skipped, 
and for that month I will bring you myself as fine 
and odd-mannered a shrub as any of these — ^just 
one of our own wild ones from the woods.” 
While we were looking at the shrubs, I had 
grown quite chilly, for the sun had gone under the 
clouds and a piercing east wind was blowing. It 
was one of the days when March makes believe 
that spring has moved very far off. Little Joseph 
also was tired from his work on the trellis and from 
looking over the shrubs, and Timothy said he 
would take care of them until later In the day when 
we should all attend to their planting. Joseph and 
I then went into the house for luncheon. 
Afterwards, he took out “An Ambitious Boy’s 
Garden.” The book, how^ever, had not a word In 
It about shrubs. It was all about flowers. 
“It Is fortunate that we have shrubs,” Little 
Joseph said, “for, although we shall not plant them 
