The Jonathan Papers

s and Ho

et's not hav

live on if

garden,-peas and potatoes and things,- I m

nage," he ruminated; "the har

ways flowers enough, all around us, from

ways

possible sarcasm in the word

s for themselves that nature is doing for them just over the fence. There was Christabel Vincent last summer, grubbing over yellow l

as what she was aft

she talked as i

that that matt

acute about my friends th

nd hepaticas, first of all, then bloodroot and arbutus, adder's-tongue and columbine, shad-blow and dogwood, and all the beloved throng of them, at our feet and overhead. In May the pink azalea and the buttercups, in June the laurel and the daisies and-almost best of all-the dear clover. In summer the deep woods gave us orchids, and the open meadows lilies and blac

nch of sweet peas. I buried my face in their

ear!"

e took off his ankle-clips. He had just

peas with red ones and pink ones-that special

w away the ones

sweet peas, I'd have white ones, and pale lavender ones, and

March," said Jonathan, as he trund

him, "I'm not going to plant

it, but I really think the wh

h the woods to meet Jonathan. As he came up to me and

suppose I foun

d Talcott place

s was growing under our crab-appl

Ben say she used to have her garden there; that must have been before he starte

k the delicate spray;

e that when you're forty?" he philosop

there won't be many bl

e it and give

nd put it over on the south side of

to where it could get the sunshine it had been starving for all th

cut them down for weeds when

ou might stick in a few bulbs that'

sweet alyssum along each side, to l

ing if you want to. I'll br

and the spring cam

eon one day, "I got the swe

nt sweet alyssum for? It's a foolish flower. I th

phlox? We said we'd put in some sweet alyss

nd when they're gone it wi

and I might as well use

eet alyssum ever hurt a

. I had the florist's catalogue in my hand. "Jonat

t do you want

e farm-the phl

ought you had sweet

oat and I drew hi

I could try the English daisies, too, and if one didn't do well perhaps the other would. And look

don't want the

this kind of pansies very early, they blossom in June, and then if you cover them they live over and blosso

ies," said Jonathan. "Of course, if you want to bo

care of themselves. Please, your pencil

it that indescribable something we call spring. We tramped about on the spongy ground, and sniffed the sweet ai

r to them and lifted up the thick blanket of leaves an

et's take off these leave

hose hard little bullets we put in last fall should

l phlox," said Jon

ving people credit for things

ious sentence,

eat many more curious ones than that. Listen, Jonathan. W

but peas, but you can try, of course.

d. "I thought Henry hadn't much to do yet, and perha

than. I think he smiled.

to the south porch, where it's

pictures indicating what the seeds within might be expected to do.

on, Gladys Unwin, Early Dawn, White Spencer,' By George!

h cheaper by the

they gave you some asters

er by August, and asters go on all through October-

nd October, without your planting any more?" He grinned a littl

aren't any trouble.

weed

hem; but I woul

's some l

t me that. She thought I might like some from her garden-she has such

that all you've j

here might be a place for it over by the fence. And of course we

s some nas

g. There were some carrots and parsnips, and things like that, too, all in a big brown envelope. I knew you ha

ve always said they made you think of

s always seemed to be the sort of flowers that people picked with short stems, and tied up in a wad, and stuck in

thunder do yo

hen told me that. And she had a way of cutting them with long stems, so they trailed, and they w

han. "I didn't understand your plan, that was

f the Lady Grisel Hamiltons and poured some of the pretty, smooth, fawn-colored balls into my hand. Then I opened the cosmos-what funny long thin ones! How long should I have to wait till they began to come up? I read the directions-"Plan

ay kneeling by them and studying the physiognomy of their cotyledons. I led Jonathan out to them one Sunday morning, and he regarded them with indulgen

r wh

s are there. I didn't know whether they were going to do anything-the

know? They

. I-why, I just thought I'

g them up?

different ones. Now what are you laughing at? Wouldn't you have wanted to know? And you wo

e wanted to know. And it is certainly better not to dig up

d over near where I was kneeling by the phlox. "I

an inch since yesterday," I said. "Don't you

e more about the pink lady-slipper than

e come here and tell me if these are young pansies or only plantain? I'm so afraid of pulling up the wrong thing. I do wish somebody would make a book with pictures of all the cotyledons of all the different plan

g on his wheel, regarding me with open amus

lly remarked; "

I said, th

arden

hat grows with what it feeds on. Now and then, indeed, I make a feeble fight against its inroads: I will not have another flower

, repentanc

was I sober

nd then-ca

t of it. Out in the great and wonderful world beyond my garden, nature works her miracles constantly. She lays her riches at my feet; they are mine for the gathering. But to work these miracles myself,-to have my own little hoard that looks to me for tending, for very life,-that is a joy by itself. My little garde

here, but it is there, and there it will stay. It means much grubbing. Just putting in seeds and then weeding is, I find, no mere affair of rhetoric. Moreover, I am introduced through my garden to an entirely new set of troubles: beetles and cutworms and

next summer Mrs. Stone sent me over some of her hardy little fall asters-"artemishy," she called them. And Anne Stafford sent on some hollyhock seeds culled from Emerson's garden.

meaning, and say, "Larkspur-that's for remembrance; hollyhocks-that's for thoughts." Remembrance of all those dear other gardens which I have come to know, and in whose beau