But I have a fault to find with my daffodils. They turn their backs on
us. It is natural, I suppose, that they do not care to look in at the
window to see what we are doing, preferring the blue sky and the sun,
and all that they can catch of March and April, but the end of it is
that we see too little of their faces; for even if they are trained in
youth with a disposition towards the window, yet as soon as they begin
to come to their full glory they swing round towards the south and
hide their beauty from us. But the House Opposite sees them, and
brings his visitors, you may be sure, to his window to look at them.
Indeed, I should not be surprised if he boasted of it as "his
garden" and were even now writing in a book about it.
My second garden is circular--18 ins. in diameter, and, of course,
more than that all the way round. I can see it now as I write--or,
more accurately, if I stop writing for a moment--for it is just
outside the library window. The vulgar call it a tub--they would;
actually it is the Tulip Garden.
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