St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1893-07-10

What comfort there is in an old gar
den! There are not many hereabouts
but out there not stones throw from
my window is one. 1t is sadly neg
lected. this last remnant of what was
comfortable farm home before that vile
fever that we call the 'boom" came II
attack the town. Along one side of the
fence a row of gnarled fruit trees stand
Futile sentinels they to hold the horde!
of progress in bay. All winter long a:
I sat here. busy with my pen, l coulC
lift my eyes and see them Shivering il
the icy wind, their gnarled and knOtted
branches looking like tOil-wUrn hands
cropping for the lost warmth OF the van
iShed summer.
With the spring sunshine they woke
to life and shook out their burdens of
pink and white blossoms in a wave
offering OF beauty and perfume that
filled the air with fragrance. A little
later the fruit appeared-Small green
spheres at first that SWelled and filled
as they swung on the topmost boughs,
and the neighbOrhood boys, with the
keen sight for all possible SpoilS that
has come down to them unlmpaired
from their savage ancestors, have made
bOughS of bloom to deck their savage
feastS or clumsy bouquets to be carrie /
home as spoils of the chase to be laid in
propitlatory offering at the feet of
atfronted maternal authority. When
the wind lifts the bOughS of the cherry
trees, bringing in Oh its wings to me that
Ieculiar spicy Odor that cherry trees
alone possess, can see yet few ruby
pOated little globes, but they will not be
chere long, for Robin Redbreast lives
in the wood just by, and, as he is fond
of cherries, l can see the CLEAN of his
tlame-tinted breast now. He has Or
gained a reconnaissance through his
green pastures. A wise person is Robin,
and small boys are plenty.
The apple trees are more SecluSiVe;
but L think that their fruit must be of
some size now, for my neighbor the
predatory savage at the corner was
over there yesterday with all his straw
hated barefOOted cohorts, and | no
tlced suspicious prOtuberances on each
side Of their 1.-the young bodies as they
came Sedately by on their homeWard
march.
Down the center ! can see a trace of a
gravel walk and OH either side punches
of sOuthermwood, ole man. our grand
mothers called ii, and Bouncing
Betty" and few struggling rose bushes
that now ana then renew their youth in
delicate buds of pale pink or white or
deepest crimson. [ know them OF old. !
can catch yet the lOng-agO perfume of
the cinnamon rose" and 1.-The maiden's
blush" or the royal damaSk' that
grew and fiouriShed in another garden
under warmer skies. Then remnants
OF the phaIanX of yellow snapdragou,
"butter and eggs" they used to call it,
and "larkspurS," and "marigolds,' -
and "pOppieS." and sweet pinks," that
once guarded the walk, are still to be
seen through the encroaching advance
lines of clover, red and white, that are
taking possession Of this neglected spot
My neighbOr, who recognizes good
pasture when he sees it, has tied his
COW, small creature of imported de-
scent from the Island of Jersey, in the
shade OF the trees. A modern "de luX''
edition she, OF the big-bodied, long
horned, mild-eyed beast we called a COW
i'll the days of our youth. Tie delicate
head and well-kept body, and little ariS-
tOcratlc. modern air, as she stands knee
keep in the DlOssoming clover, enpha-
size prettily the spirit OF today, the
sign OF struggle and push, that lies all
about the outside of my little bit of old
tiny garden.
a half-ruined seat under broken old
willow is in plain view from here, and
now my neighbours daughter, sweet
little blue-eyed bit of humanity, is seat
ing herself there. | would not have
you think that she is alone, not when
there are So many gallant fellows home
from college. l judge by the jaunty
cut of their garments, and the racquets
In their hands, that they are intent on
the mysteries of tennis, and, if mine
eyes be not mistaken, are deep in the
mysteries of a dearer lore. How that
brings US back to the sweet Old story of
of Genesis. Heaven bless them, they
little know what pretty picture they
m axe to TWO old eyes over pen.
AUNT POLLY.