more garden wisdom

   "I always feel so sorry for the poor weeds," said the Story Girl dreamily. "It must be very hard to be rooted up."
    "They shouldn't grow in the wrong place," said Felicity mercilessly.
     "When weeds go to heaven I suppose they will be flowers." continued the Story Girl.
     "You do think such queer things," said Felicity.
     "A rich man in Toronto has a floral clock in his garden," I said. "It looks just like the face of a clock, and there are flowers in it that open at every hour, so that you can always tell the time."
     "Oh, I wish we had one here," exclaimed Cecily.
     "What would be the use of it?" asked the Story Girl a little disdainfully. "Nobody ever wants to know the time in a garden."


                                                        The Story Girl,    L.M. Montgomery