A third boundary was the
side of one well weathered barn and the back of another, with a scanty
glimpse between them of meadows stretching down to the Connecticut
River. The fourth was an open fence marking off a field of riotous
weeds. When the tenant mistress of this unpromising spot began to occupy
it the yard and alley were a free range for the poultry of the
neighborhood, and its only greenery was two or three haphazard patches
of weedy turf. One-fourth of the ground, in the angle made by the open
fence and one of the barns, had been a hen-yard and was still inclosed
within a high wire-netting; but outside that space every plant she set
out had to be protected from the grubbing fowls by four stakes driven
down with a hammer. Three years afterward she bore off our capital prize
in a competition of one hundred gardens. Let me tell what the judges
found.
[Illustration: "Beauty can be called into life about the most
unpretentious domicile."
One of a great number of competing cottages whose gardens are handsomer
in the rear and out of sight than on the street-front, though well kept
there also.]
[Illustration: "Those who pay no one to dig, plant or prune for them."
The aged owner of this place has hired no help for twenty years. Behind
her honey-locust hedge a highly kept and handsome flower and shrubbery
garden fills the whole house lot.
Pages:
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120