168 
THE DROUGHT 
seems to disturb him very little, but every day he 
turns a trifle browner. 
We can never be too glad that we have the wood- 
border on one side of our garden, and that the point 
of the triangle is naturally moist. Although ferns 
and irises feel the drought more than many other 
plants ours are still holding themselves up and look- 
ing well. Unless we have rain soon, however, we 
must water them more freely. This will be some^ 
what awkward, as they are in the part of the gar- 
den to which water has to be carried in buckets. 
Aunt Amanda had but one hydrant at the back 
of the house, and the hose from it will not reach 
all over the garden. In the future, Joseph and I 
plan to put in another hydrant farther down the 
triangle, to do away with the labour of carrying 
water. Just when this “future” will be I do not 
know, but I hope before another season when there 
is a long drought. 
Joseph’s ten-weeks stocks have bloomed early. 
They come from the seeds that he started in one 
of the window-boxes early in March, and now, in 
the long bed by the wall, are showing us masses of 
pink, purple, yellow and white. We do not know 
how they like the drought. We try simply not to 
mention it in their presence. 
It means a good deal of work to sow annual seeds 
each year, tO' watch that they grow well, thin them 
cut, sometimes transplant them, and generally look 
after their comfort until they bloom. But, when 
