m."

"No. I don't believe sweet alyssum ever hurt anybody," said Jonathan.

That evening when he came in I met him in the hall. I had the florist's
catalogue in my hand. "Jonathan, it says English daisies are good for
borders."

"Borders! What do you want of borders?"

"Why, up on the farm--the phlox, you know."

"Oh, the phlox. I thought you had sweet alyssum for a border."

He took off his coat and I drew him into the study.

"Why, yes, but that was such a little package. I don't believe there
would be enough. And I thought I could try the English daisies, too, and
if one didn't do well perhaps the other would. And look what it says--
No, never mind the newspaper yet--there isn't any news--just look at
this about pansies."

"Pansies! You don't want _them_ for a border!"

"Why, no, not exactly. But, you see, the phlox won't blossom till late
August, and it says that if you plant this kind of pansies very early,
they blossom in June, and then if you cover them they live over and
blossom again the next May. And pansies are so lovely! Look at that
picture! Don't you love those French-blue ones?"

"I like pansies. I don't know about the nationalities," said Jonathan.
"Of course, if you want to bother with them, go ahead." He picked up his
paper.

"Oh, it won't be any bother. They take care of themselves. Please, your
pencil-- I'm going to mark the colors I want."

We went up soon after to look at the farm. We found it very much as we
had left it, except that there hung about it that indescribable
something we call spring. We tramped about on the spongy ground, and
sniffed the sweet air, and looked at the apple buds, and kicked up the
soft, matted maple leaves to see the grass starting underneath.

"Oh, Jonathan! Our bulbs!" I exclaimed. We hurried over to them and
lifted up the thick blanket of leaves and hay we had left over them.
"Look! A crocus!" I said.

"And here's a snowdrop! Let's take off these leaves and give them a
chance."

"Dear me!" I sighed; "isn't it wonderful? To think those hard little
bullets we put in last fall should do all this! And here's the phlox
just starting--look--"

"Oh, you can't kill phlox," said Jonathan imperturbably.

"All the better. I hate not giving people credit for things just because
they come natural."

"That is a curious sentence," said Jonathan.

"Never mind. You know what I mean. You've understood a great many more
curious ones than that. Listen, Jonathan.