e was said for the
nonce about a "will" or a "life estate," or any matter thereunto
appertaining, and disagreeable to Alice and to me alike. The cold
weather having melted away into sunshine and warmth, I once more began
to be deeply interested in horticulture and floriculture, and this,
too, in spite of the ineffaceable scars which the spade-wielding
vandals had left in the large front yard in the alleged interest of the
sewer, water, and gas-pipes.

This enthusiasm of mine in behalf of matters of which I knew absolutely
nothing was retired by my respected neighbor, Fadda Pierce, who is so
learned in all affairs involving flowers and shrubbery that I actually
believe that what he does n't know about them is n't worth knowing.
Fadda's cottage is covered with every variety of dainty and luxurious
vine, and in his yard bloom all kinds of rare and beautiful flowers.
He is so famed for his fondness for and luck with flowers that I felt
grateful to the dear old gentleman when he visited me with a view to
advising me as to the kind of flowers I ought to plant in my lawn and
around the house.

It was then that I learned of the existence of shrubs, vines, and
flowers of which I had never before heard. It is indeed amazing that
an ordinarily intelligent man can reach the age of forty-five years
without being able to profess truthfully a more or less intimate
acquaintance with hydrangeas, fuchsias, taraxacums, syringas,
sisymbriums, gilliflowers, kentaphyllons, maydenheer, chrysanthemums,
orchids, geraniums, lichens, laburnums, jasmines, heliotropes,
gentians, eucalyptuses, crocuses, carnations, dahlias, cactuses,
billybuttons, anemones, anthropomorphons, amaranths, etc., etc. Fadda
Pierce did not chide me for my heathenish ignorance; he seemed to take
it for granted that I had been too busy acquiring knowledge in other
lines to have time to devote to research in botany. He was much more
considerate than neighbor Roth was when he pulled up his team in front
of my house one day and asked me how far it was to Glencoe. I answered
that I did not know; whereupon he shrugged his shoulders and muttered:
"I thought as much, by gosh! You can tell how fur 't is to the sun,
the moon, an' the stars, but you can't tell how fur 't is to Glencoe!"

Fadda Pierce advised me to set out about two dozen cobies (I think he
called them) around our new colonial front porch, and then he kindly
designated certain spots in the yard where beds oug