THE GARDEN OF LOVE.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLVI, Issue 4, 25 January 1911, Page 40

THE GARDEN OF LOVE.

By LUCAS CLASSEY. ( In the "Amateur Gardening Christmas Number.”) Bill-berry, looking like a very spruce Adonis, had oakasion at nightshade thyme to walk along the beech in the bay at Rye, and before lie had camomile be saw Poly-anthus looking very cerens and meloncally and planely suffering from a bleeding heart, so he determined to acertain the cause, and inquired, “Why so cressfallen, has anemonie threatened Neinesia? ” Polly replied, “I pine for yew.” Bill was cherry, and thought. “Good Avens, this is arum box of tricks, or love-in-a-misterious form, or may be simply a-n-ice plant”; but her look was so full of honesty that he said to himself, “I can’t leave abutilonly and musk aster to marry me.” “My peach,” lie said, “cea-not-thus and don’t lupine, but say you’ll be jasmine.” Polly replied, “I’ve never cinnamon so impatiens, but I suppose that love sometimes sprouts very quickly, and thymus confess, Sweet William, that I can’t refusia.”

WH ruse to the Bead an, and great—king Polly to hia breast, with a erher tuUpa to his own. Polly •M startled, and cried, “Thistle do my vine fellow; lettuce chestnut orchid ene another, oo stop your capers, and atouV give me sueh artichokes.’’ tthu Bill said, “I’m not codling, so don't be kohld or dahlia -about,’ and he then placed a golden chain of id carrets to her pink palm. “Obi nran-geld I seek not, nor yet marry-gold,” she said; but if you pre to earnest, I refurae you to uM»itor.’’ “0 dear! I’m sueh a fuukias; I’d rather »n>Ee with your Poppy,” said Bill; and, calling on Mr. Arithus, he Said, “Peas I want your elder daughter’s palm”; but as he admitted he had no currant account at the bank, Mr. Anthus replied, “Sa-lad, what monkey's puzzle is this? Ye eanna have her, so mango auchusanother.’’ Bill, however, beetdown Mr. Anthus’s opposition by saying he was thrifty and had no edelweiss, and expected goon to have a rice In his celery; so in a short thyme (mow likely by his sage talk), Bill obtained Poppy’s leaf, and received his speedwell.

They tried to keep the engagement a secret, but it leeked out, although Bill did not often, visit Polly, as they lived go far apart, a'nd he was not one of the Cyclamen, and could not afford to pay cabbage. Everything went smoothly, until Polly 3 Bister, creeping Jenny, tired of being gooseberry, let loose strife which docked their sweet peas by telling J’olly that Bill was keeping another lady’s slipper and golden-locks. The conseguince was that Polly told Bill he was a cockscomb, and said, Begon-I-ave done with you, fir you lilac Ananias, and cu-cumber the ground, and had better hop it.” Bill tried to becallas, and asked, “What do you intend to do?” “I intend to go in the lime-light, and be a columbine or a cor-chorus girl, sobbed Polly; and when Bill asked what he should do with her letters, ‘ La-bnrn-um,” she replied, like a snap-dragon; and rushing away, jumped into the sea, thinking to dianthus end the matter ; but her maiden aunt Prim-Rose cedar, and cried lispingly to Bill, “Man will you stay an-the-miss drown? Vi-tis Polly in the water.” . “Myosotis,” shouted Bill, endived ui for Polly-an-thus rescued her. A larch crowd collected and cried Oalnder”; but when they tried to pull her put, Bill said, “Don’t juniper, for if you do you will make Polly-go-num, for she is such achillea mortal. Never mind Mrs. Car-Nation, get Polly some brandy* ’ Bill became a poplar hero, and again Bought Polly to statice case. Polly Baid, “Love-lies-bleeding no longer, and I walnut let any medlar interfere in future. They were married at an early date in May at Plumtree by the Bev. Jon—Quill, and everyone said they were a lovely pear, and that Polly looked like a hemp-iris in her bridal wreath. Tor their honeymoon they took a long hollyday at Mountain Ash, where they wandered in the meadow sweet, and played with the lambs’ ears. They now live at Thornton Heath, where they have a nice house, although it hasn’t mushroom. It was furnished from Maple’s best stocks, and is as clean as a broom can make it, and everything goes as-per-rul-a thumb. As a housewife, Bill says that Polly has morins than he expected. She is not as yet a mother-o’-thousands, but has one olive-branch, which in her London pride she calls her sunflower, and Bill often says: - Dur currant of love has bean smooth and plum And I’m not ashamed of the calm. Not a fig now care we, phlox of trials may come We’ll not rue, love will turnip a balm.