EARLY AUGUST DAYS 
215 
Oswego tea has been in bloom at Miss Wise- 
man’s since July; but only while speaking about 
our rose-mallows did Joseph find out that it also 
was a wildling which had fallen under the eye of 
gardeners. It belongs to the mint family, and 
increases almost as rapidly as the little, common 
mint, which many people transplant from wayside 
brooks. In fact, the foliage of Oswego tea has 
something of the same spicy fragrance. 
I asked Joseph if he expected tO' plant it at the 
Six Spruces next season. 
He answered that perhaps he would put some 
of it near the tall brakes, which he wishes to have 
look as if they were just stepping out of the cop- 
pice. 
I felt sure, then, that Joseph had been pleased 
with the plant, and already planned to have it in 
our garden. It ought to feel at home among our 
other wild flowers. 
The morning-glory vine is still bearing flowers, 
and Joseph and I are in love with it, despite the 
alarm cry that, if we sow it another year among 
our perennial vines, it will rise up and choke them 
to death. 
“That is a dreadful tale,” Joseph commented, 
“to hear so often about anything so lovely.” 
Joseph loves morning-glories, but his dislike to 
petunias is very great. He does not wish one of 
them at the Six Spruces. 
“Do you not think the shape of a morning-glory 
