Down North and Up Along 
times overflowing the garden and straggling 
out to the roadside. They remind one of 
Celia Thaxter's flowers at the light-house on 
the Isles of Shoals, seeming to have the same 
qualities of brilliancy and fragrance. 
A house without flowers is the rare excep- 
tion in Digby. They give character to the 
place and rob the cheap frame buildings of 
half their ugliness, and occasionally they make 
one charming. There is a delightful old gar- 
den almost surrounding a tiny house, facing 
Cannon Field. The house itself is covered 
with vines which are vastly more becoming 
than paint, and into the garden seem to have 
come all the sweet old-fashioned posies from 
long ago to now. 
It is a pleasure to saunter over from Can- 
non Field and lean on the low fence, behind 
which is such profusion of bloom. The back 
yard, too, is a flower-garden, sharing the pre- 
cious soil with the plum-trees and gooseberry 
bushes. 
If fruits and vegetables were to flourish in 
Digby soil as the flowers do, the cod would 
have a formidable rival, but the stern earth 
yields its juices freely to only the coaxing root- 
22 
