Another Hardy Garden book

ing leaves and fresh grass, all breathing the fragrance of the Spring, make the scene one of beauty indescribable. We can understand and sympathize with the Japanese in their love of the cherry, peach, and plum blossoms, and envy them the life that makes it possible to lay work aside for a time every day and flock to the gardens, where the cult of the fruit tree and the Wistaria, of Pseonies, Lilies, and Chrysanthemums have been brought to perfection, and where they may steep their senses in this beauty daily, from the time the early cherry blossoms come until the petals of the last Chrysanthemum have been borne away by the winds. But how few dwellers in our cities give thought to the wonderful beauty to be seen, just a little way out in the country, when the blossoms come in Spring! And even were time available, how few among the multitude would leave the asphalt for a day merely to gaze upon the fairy-like scene! To them, living is such a tread-mill of obligation and toil and work, that many go through life with unseeing eyes for the great beauties of Nature. From the days when the stern Pilgrims, hoe in hand and musket slung over the shoulder, wrested a scanty living from the wilderness, until to-day, when millionaires travel between their country places and Wall Street by automobile, swift yacht, or special train, reading the last edition of the newspaper enroute, we have been so occupied in the pursuit of the practical, that as a people we have neglected t...