The Garden Magazine, February, 1924 
347 
grounds of the Iowa Children’s Home were chosen. When 
The Garden Magazine announced its plan for National Gar¬ 
den Week, we resolved to do our planting on these grounds 
during Garden Week. 
The general plan and planting plans for the grounds were 
made bv one of the Garden Club members, Miss Etta M. Bard- 
well, Landscape Architect, and all plant material as well as the 
necessary labor connected with the planting was donated by 
other members of the Garden Club. More than six hundred 
trees and shrubs were donated. Much beautiful material was 
given from private gardens, including French Lilacs and choice 
Iris and Roses in variety. Perennials and seeds, both flower 
and vegetable, and tools for the children’s gardens were given 
by club members. Delivery wagons and trucks were comman¬ 
deered to collect donated material, and under the efficient 
management of the chairman of the Plant Material Committee, 
Mrs. Harry Rollins, all material was on the grounds when 
Planting Day came. 
The work of planting, under the supervision of the president 
and a committee of members, was practically completed in one 
day. Everybody fell to—men, women, and even the children 
of the Home doing their bit with rake and hoe. One small boy 
was overheard saying to his fellows: 
“Gee! 1 hope 1 get to stay here all year, so’st I kin finish my 
garden.'’ 
The caretaker of the grounds had another angle of vision: 
“Now these boys’ll have somethin’ to do this summer—they 
won’t be into mischief all the time.” 
The Superintendent, Miss Taft, arranged with the boys and 
girls to purchase for the use of the Home all the good qualitv 
vegetables which they could raise. A plot of ground 60 x 80 feet 
is reserved for the children's gardens. Here each child has his 
individual plot where he can raise flowers and vegetables. Prizes 
were offered for the best kept children’s gardens. The value 
of this work to the children of the Home, furnishing the neces¬ 
sary interesting occupation and out-of-door life, can hardly be 
over-estimated. 
And another pleasant feature of such plantings is they mas- 
have more than local meaning—let me quote from a letter re¬ 
ceived in August by Mrs. Russell Tyson, of the Women’s Na¬ 
tional Farm and Garden Association, from a Kentucky “garden 
neighbor”: 
I have found several helpful suggestions for my present problem (a garden 
connected with a Community House) in the article about the Iowa Children’s 
Home, done by the Des Moines Club. The people here (Elizabethtown, Ky.) 
have already responded most generously to a call for shrubs and plants, but the 
matter of collecting them had troubled me. The method used by the Des 
Moines Garden Club has cleared away that difficulty, will solve the problem, 
and save great expense. We have no park in Elizabethtown, a place of three 
thousand people, and we want the garden space to fill a double purpose of park 
and garden. It means, therefore, a garden border of shrubs and trees and 
plants, and open spaces for benches and play. 
Our club is eager to support and cooperate in the observance 
of National Garden Week another year. We feel our efforts 
during the past year have stimulated a city-wide interest in 
gardens and gardening. All success to National Garden Week 
of 1924! « 
“FLOWER TIME AND 
DOWER TIME” 
HAZEL HARPER HARRIS 
T HE sudden birth of mothered seeds, so glad to stretch and 
grow; 
The rush and push of little plants for places in the row, 
Where gay-frocked they can wave to me from joyous breeze- 
blown lines; 
The hurrying 
And scurrying 
And frolicking of vines! 
In day-time, gay-time, play-time how my little garden laughs, 
And runs and suns and dances, while at night dew wine it quaffs. 
Plants grow on tiptoe by the moon, and clap their hands for 
morn, 
For flower time 
And dower time 
So glad that they were born! 
Then comes the low, slow undertone of mellow summertide: 
Green pepper pods flaunt parasols, red beet hearts throb in pride, 
And butter beans fill purses green with coins flecked rose and 
blue; 
In fruited flush 
Ere seeded hush. 
My garden dreams anew. 
A little poem, too, is born of seedling thoughts, love-sown, 
In sunny places in the soul where it may dance, glad-grown, 
Until it flowers in the light of understanding’s art, 
And bravely sings 
Th’ eternal things 
That satisfy the heart. 
