GARDEN GIVES ITS REWARD 157 
thought, however, Joseph cannot understand. He 
says that the sea, with its high waves and flying 
spray, seems to him very far away from our tri- 
angle. When he is in the garden with the ferns 
and flowers, I think he quite forgets that the earth 
has oceans and mountains. 
Our larkspurs have shot up as high as three or 
four feet, and overlook the garden. All of the 
flowers of each stalk do not burst into bloom at the 
same time. Those at the tip-top open first, and 
then those lower down unfold. By the time the 
last ones are blooming, the ones that came out first 
have fallen, leaving their queer-shaped, upright 
seed-pods to tell where once they were. 
We like to observe these larkspurs. I think I 
should know them now, no matter in what country 
I saw them or under what conditions. They have 
been given their names, we hear, on account of the 
way the flowers extend at the back into a long spur, 
like the hind claw or spur at the back of some 
larks’ feet. 
The only birds called larks that Joseph and I 
know anything about in this part of the country 
do not come into the garden — at least we have not 
seen them about the triangle. They stay in the 
meadows at a distance from the Six Spruces, and 
build their nests on the ground. They are called 
meadow-larks, although they are really not larks 
at all. 
Joseph found out about their nests one day when 
