The New Orleans crescent. [volume] (New Orleans, La.) 1866-1869, 1868-10-18
THE HAUNTED GARDEN.
From Temple Bar ]

i
THE HAUNTED GARDEN.
From Temple Bar
What is IT to be haunted! Who can explain or
| understand the laws which regulate the Knight
side Of nature" or trace to their source tbs phe-
| nomena that seem to stand beyond those ordinary
| facts of everyday experience, which long custom
has caused US to look upon as q settled order of
| the universe, though they truly all miracles
| and wonders, into whose remote depths we cannot
penetrate! Yes; we may well ask, What is it
1t were perhaps best to pass over, without CON-
| ment, the most recent manifestations which the
| wisdom and enlightenment of this nineteenth
| century have produced, and to refrain from try
| ing TO fathom the shallow mysteries that require
| the Intervention of "medium" to interpret
them, lest perchance they should rap out to us on
the table an order to sign check for few hun
dred pounds In favor of the medium. pet Us with
| stale fruit and mouldy flowers, or rattle trumpets
| and accordeons about our ears In dark room.
These being seem, indeed, in their spiritual state,
| to profit so little by the expensive and liberal
education bestowed on them in their lifetime by
| their parents, and to have sunk from the enter.
tanning, learned and genial friends we once knew,
| the men of power and influence the world once
admired into such very illiterate and stupid dolts,
such feeble inanities, that the less we have to do
with them the less we shall expose our character
and reputation to the deterioration and disgrace
which necessarily arise from keeping low
| company.
III Is, however, possible LOT d man OF D placo 10
| be haunted. ! did not believe 1t once, but do
| now. - o yes!r you tell me, one can be haunt
| ed by remorse for evil deeis, by horrid secret,
| by the memory OF neglected opportunities that
| never returned by lost or by buried, but unfor-
gotten, love, eto.S But had haunted garden!
Don't tell me that yours is haunted toby the
| cats that roll on your choice flowers, and shrek
| under your window as night, making you start
from your pillow with your hair on an end, and
with vague sensation that murder or burglary is
| going on close at hand.
My garden was haunted by plant!
| Now, don'tlaugh and say that it was exactly the
you had plenty to haunt yours. had plenty
! before had done with IL; aud to this day turn
| my head away when ! pass the greeD-grocer's,
lest should find my old enemy following me still.
You must know that when l married (it Is
years ago now, bought pleasant little villa
near what is now the Great Cheatem and Doer"
4 southern railway terminus. II was pretty place
| then, though it is wilderness Of bricks now;
4 there was a shady lane leading to the house, and
priDroses grew in the hedge-bottoms in spring,
though it was near enough to town for me to
come home to dine after concluding business.
You remember the little strip Of garden behind
| the house, and how il was divided from that OF
| my neghbor on each side by well kept privet
| hedge. You saw it few months after went to
live there; and you know how nicely | laid it out
| with small gravel walks and intricately shaped
beds bordered with box. All my friend, when
| you went away to Iudia, you little thought what
trouble that small plot of ground would bring me;
how one. only one, mistake in its cultivation
| would mbitter some of the best years of my life
| Clara said TO my wife, with little gar
den, such as ours, it is of no use trying 10 grow
| vegetables or fruit; you know. my dear, every
potato and cabbage we grew would cost us half
| crown; and perhaps, after ALL there would not be
| one worth eating. Let as cultivate flowers only,
| and then we can look after them ourselves, and
| gardener can come twice week, just to do the
rough work. and dig and rake and hoe the ground
| 40 yes. Georgel" replied my wife; And l
| know Of such nice old man who will garden for
us he keeps small nursery ground of his own,
and he says be can spare just two days week
| from his work; and then, too. he can supply US
with plants as many as we like TO buy. So, If you
| wish, We will go and see him at once and engage
him, for old Mr. Dunlop, who lives next door,
| tells me that we ought not to miss him, and you
know Sir. Dunlop cultvates choice .geraniums,
carnations, and pansies, which he sends to all the
/ flower shows in the county, and, he says. II 1t
| were not that Samuel Spikenard, the gardener,
hearty always has better plants than his own, he
| should certainly win every prize that he puts
| in for"
So we went to the Nursery Gardens. Samuel
/ Spikensrd undertook to do ali that we wished,
and for few happy months no garden could be
| gsyer than the little patch behind Elm Tree Row.
| Such peargoniums, fuchsas and verbenas-such
/ dahlias and petuniss-I never saw before nor
/ since 1t was Christmas time. and few old
| friends were to dine with Us. On Christmas Eve
i the good cheer had come in from the grocer's,
the bakers and the butcher's-from the last a
/ splendid srloin, and from the greengrocer's the
i vegetables and trimmings-when my wife came
| into the room with a serious face. /" George"
she said, al have scolded Turnips, the green
grocer, over and over again about bis vegetables
| not being fresh and nice, but it is no use. just
| look what herbs he has sent This parsley is
| just like an old rag, and might as well scrape
your walking stick this horseradish. You know
il has no favor at all unless it ia fresh, and your
aunt Judith is coming to our Christmas dinner,
and she is so fond of it. Ii is all very well, my
dear, to grow flowers In the garden bat you really
| must let me have corner to grow some herbs,
| so that we may run out and gather them fresh
| whenever they are wanted"
/ Could do other wise than fall in with so rea-
| sonsble q suggestion! Aiasl had | known
| what would follow, would cheerfully have paid
| Turnps a sovereign for every bunch Of parsley
rather than have taken the unadvised step that
| was led to do!
Before the early spring came round again
| Samuel Spikensrd was busy at his work,
| turning over the ground and planting
| his bulbs in the anticipation of glo-
| rious show Of erocuses and tulips. was stroll
ling round the garden in the twilight, when there
quest of my wife for herb-bed came to my recol-
samuel said to him. a. want a few herbs
| grown this serson, If you can spare a corner for
| them, Just q little patch OF parsley, and some
ssge and mint and thyme, and a root or two Of
-"WeIl sir ~ said Samuel, "I thinks II gentle.
| man means TO grow flowers as he ought TO grow
'em, and II be wants q market aIoen ne u peltef
hire market gard 'ner to tend bis bit o. ground
AMI thinks, sir as you'll do deal better not to
heye none o. that sort Of rubbish mixin' with my
| flowers here, for there isn't never square inch
as can spare em, and Turnips. the green-grocer,
| he'll sell em cheaper and better nor ever your
grow 'em here, III" .
The mention Of Turnips, and the recollection Of
the mutty trimmings TO the Christmas beef, deter
| mined me, when ! ought to have yielded TO sam
| uel's better knowledge.
samuelD said I firmly but kindly, Il desire
1 you will plant the herbs have mentioned. and IL
| Won can find room elsewhere. you must put them
| each bed. where they will not be conspicuous"
| Well. sir ~ returned he, [" that's not my way |;
but howsumever, if you borders it, sir, I'll do it :"
and. be wiped his forehead with his sleeve, and
SAMUEL said 1, al order you to follow the
I directions which have given"