This year I have a tropical bed of oblong form. A Castor Bean rises majestically in the center, two beautiful Cannas each side, while a Dracæna, a splendid Croton, two fancy Caladiums, and a few other choice plants fill the space, the whole bordered with Coxcombs. In a few weeks this bed will look gorgeous, and those filled with annuals will have changed from their present inattractiveness to delightful bloom. August is really the month of fullness of blossom, and of restful enjoyment of beauty and fragrance. The weary days of preparation, of bedding out and of weeding, are over, and one may now give themselves up to the enjoyment of the fruit of their labor, till the chill nights of autumn bring a renewal of the toil.
"Does the brief period of restful enjoyment repay for the many weary days antecedent and subsequent?"
Yes, richly, fully, for there is pleasure with the toil, and to me health-giving influences that energize the physical system for indoor work, and stimulate the brain for literary pursuits. To me my garden is a God-send, fraught with blessings.
"Gardening is a pleasant pastime." I am prepared to adopt that sentiment to-day, if I did demur somewhat last month. It is a delightful pastime, in the early morning, to spend an hour among the flowers, trowel in hand, rooting out the weeds, loosening the soil around your plants, and tying up here and there the tall and fragile, while the birds are singing in the trees around you their morning song of gladness. How the dew-laden grass and shrubs impart sweetness to the air, and your lungs inhaling its purity, are expanded and invigorated, your whole system feels the better for the tonic, and prepares for breakfast, and the work that shall follow.
It is a pleasant pastime, when wearied with toil you go forth for a time among your flowers and search for the buds, or examine the newly-opened flower. How it rests you!
It is a pleasant pastime, when the labors of the day are over, and the sun is throwing long shadows from the west, you take watering-pot in hand, and shower the refreshing spray upon your plants, cleansing them from the dust, and cooling them after the heat. How they thrive, and bud and bloom!
"We should love flowers, for when we are gone
From this forgetful world a few short years—
Nay, months, perhaps—those whom we hold most dear,
Cease to bedew our memories with tears,
And no more footsteps mark the paths that lead
To where we dreamless lie; but God's dear flowers
Give to our very graves the loveliness
That won our tender praise when life was ours."