The Idaho Republican., 1914-03-27

added touch of joy that, l even l
have given them their opportunity
Like Paul ! plant, like Apollos
water, but before the power that
giveth the increase l stand back and
wonder.
But it is not alone the results OF
my stewardship that give me Joy. It's
very processes are good, Delight IN
the earth is a primitive instinct. Dig
ging is naturally pleasant hoeing is
pleasant, raking is pleasant and then
there is the wedding. For I am
not the only one who sows seeds in
my garden. One of my friends re-
marked cheerfully that ne had plant
ed twenty-seven different vegetables
! in his garden, and the Lord had plant
ed two hundred and twenty-seven
other kinds of things.
This is where the wedding comes ss.
Now a good deal has been said about
the labor of wedding, but little about
the qualifications of wedding. don't
mean wedding with a hoe. | mean
yanking up, with movements suited
to the occasion, each individual grow
ing thing that doesn't belong. Surely
/ / am not the only one to have felt
the pleasure of this. They come up
SO nicely, and leave such soft earth
behind! And intellect is needed, too,
for each weed demands It's own way
of handling; the adherent plantain
needing slow, firm, drawing motion,
but very satisfactory when it comes;
the eyasive clover requiring that all
Its sprawling runners shall be gather
ed up in one gentle, tactful pull; the
tender shephard's purse coming on a
straight twitch; the tough ragweed
that yields to almost any kind OF jerk.
Even witch-grass, the bane of the
farmer, has it's rewarding side, when
one really does get out It's handful
of wicked-looking, crawly, white
tnbers.
Wedding is most fun when the
weeds are not to small. Yes, from
the aspect of sport there is some
thing to be said for letting weeds
grow. Pulling out little tender ones
is poor work compared with the sat
isfaction of hauling up a spreading
treelet of rag-weed or a far-1aunting
wild buckwheat. You seem to get
so much for your effort, and it stirs
up the ground so, and no other weeds
have grown under the shade of the
big one, so its departure leaves a
good bit of empty earth
Surely, wedding is good fun. If
faults could be yanked out of children
in the same entertaining way, the or
phan asylums would soon be emptied
through the craze for adoption as a
major sport.
One of the pleansantest mornings
,of my life was spent wedding in the
rain, a long-neglected corner of my
garden, while a young friend stood
around the edges and explained the
current political situation to me, and
carted away armfuls of green stuff as
handed them out to him.. The rain
drizzled, and the air was fragrant
with the smell of wet earth and
bruised stems. Ideally, of course,
weeds should never reach this state
of sportive rankness. But most OF
my friends admit, under pressure,
that there are corners where such
things do happen.
All this is, of course, assuming that
one is ones own gardener There
may be pleasure in having a garden
kept up by real gardener, but that
always seems to me little like hav-
ing doll and letting somebody else
dress and undress it. My garden
must never grow so big that l canno,
take care of it-and neglect Tiny
self.
In saying this, however, ] don't
count rocks. When it comes to rocks.
l call in the man. And I. often comes
to rocks
For mine is Connecuticut garden.
Now in the beginning Connecticut
was composed entirely of rocks
Then the little earth gnomes, fearing
that no one would ever come there
to give them sport, sprinkled little
earth amongst the rocks, partly
covered others, and then hid to see
what the gardeners would do about
it. And ever since the gardeners have
been patiently, or impatiently
tucking in their seeds AMI plants in
the thimblefuls of earth left by the
gnomes. They have been picking
out the rocks, or blowing them up,
or burying them, or working around
them; and every winter the little
gnomes gather and push up q new
lot from the dark storehouses of the