Page:I Know a Secret (1927).pdf/75



ERE was once a man who was not clever at growing flowers. I don't know what it was about him that made it impossible for him to have a really nice garden. When other people's rhododendrons were full of big red blossoms, his own never got beyond sticky green spikes. His rose bushes had plenty of buds, but small unexplained insects ate most of them before the petals opened. He tried for years to grow sweet peas, but they did not seem happy. Instead of climbing up like proper sweet peas they lay flat on the ground and tangled themselves nervously together. Their little soft tendrils clutched miserably at each other like tiny hands.

For a while this man thought well of his irises, but dogs noticed them too. From all round the