THE GARDEN
(Original) In the year 1864 there stood at the end of a little cobbled street, a little cottage with a thatched roof. The most marvellous thing about the cottage was the garden. Little pebbled paths led to the gardens gay with flowers. All the flowers you could imagine were in these little plots of garden, and as one looked down from the top of the hill by which it was standing, it was like a gay patch-work quilt. The prettiest of all, I think, were the tall hollyhocks growing by the wall of the cottage. One path led to the middle of the garden where an old sun-dial stood. In one corner of the garden fountains played. One could hear the rippling brook
where there was a little seat. There the little old lady sat and watched the brook run through her garden and wind itself round the trees in the wood. It is the year 1939 now. Where the cottage stood, blackberries grow, but if you happen to pass that way, look out for some ruins of the cottage.
“There’s an old-fashioned garden Where some pretty fountains play. Where a little lady gay Picks the flowers that bloom all day.” —Joan Crawshaw (9 years), Xgawhatu, Stoke.
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/NEM19390121.2.150.17
Bibliographic details
Nelson Evening Mail, Volume LXXII, 21 January 1939, Page 15
Word Count
209THE GARDEN Nelson Evening Mail, Volume LXXII, 21 January 1939, Page 15
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