IM FRUHLINGSGARTEN 
3 1 
blossomless. But quite of a sudden in these last days 
in the spreading plots of small heart-shaped green leaves 
has arisen a purple mist which has since burst into the 
glory of full flower. 
“ It is not April,” runs the old saw, “ without a frosty 
crown,” and the earlier days of the month have once 
more borne sharp and sparkling witness to its truth; 
but now the crown of frost has dissolved into rainbow- 
tinted dews, and the flower o’ the peach is making a 
sudden glory of the high south wall at last. It is well 
indeed that the shell-like buds have kept their own 
counsel in such implicit patience, for it would have fared 
ill with them had the brief bright sunbursts of a few 
weeks since beguiled them into slipping off the protec¬ 
tion of their pearl-grey velvet sheaths. To-day against 
the dull amaranths and rich dim roses of the old wall 
these sharp, pure notes of pink that spangle the slender 
network of rich bronze twigs and branches, touched 
here and there with tender green, seem full of pleasant 
promises and instant beauty. And yet, when Preciosa 
came to visit me yesterday, her praises were faint, and 
touched, or so it seemed, with gentle deprecation. 
There was no adequate design, and the masses were not 
rightly disposed, she thought; neither was there any 
definitely decorative scheme of composition. It was 
quite pretty, she was sure, in a kind of art-gift-booklet 
way, but hardly satisfying to an eye trained to true 
artistic selection. Why had I not taken unto myself 
some of those heavenly Japanese dwarf trees; or, better 
still, domesticated a gardener from the land of cherry- 
blossom. She (Preciosa) had just been through a course 
