42 JOSEPH DOES TRANSPLANTING 
He first staked out fifteen places where the wood- 
border slopes slightly towards the path. There 
was no regularity in the design he made, although 
he set his stakes to cover a space greater in length 
than in width. Then he dug fifteen holes, picking 
out the stones and rough clumps of earth. After- 
wards, Joseph took his spade and shoved it into the 
earth to its full depth at the four sides of each plant, 
and lifted it up so carefully that it did not realise 
it was being moved from its home. One by one 
he slipped them from the spade into the holes, fill- 
ing up any remaining space with earth. At length, 
when fifteen of the lustiest ones he could find had 
been transplanted, he watered them freely. 
When Joseph told me what he was about to do, 
I felt sorry. My imagination connected hepaticas 
with the woods. I thought they would surely lose 
their wild charm if placed near a garden where 
poppies and pansies bloomed. But when he showed 
me where he had set them along the wood-border, 
and that they were still under the protection of the 
great trees, I changed my mind and was delighted 
with his work. Like the snowdrops, these little 
flowers are not afraid of March. 
“Even after their blossoms are gone,” Joseph 
said, “their leaves will look pretty here. See how 
they lean upon the earth.” 
I told him that these leaves had not come up with 
the spring, but were those of last year which had 
remained strong and green throughout the winter. 
