About this bookExcerpt from The Book of Town Window Gardening
I'll take the showers as they fall, I will not vex my bosom Enough if at the end of all A little garden blossom.
Courage is wanted to write a book about Town-garden ing. Is there such a thing? Some would say No; cats, fogs, and smuts forbid. Yet how inseparable from London is the thought of ﬂowers I Can we picture the West End on a summer's day without them The dust laid, freshly sprinkled squares and streets, where behind half-drawn blinds there is the fragrance of many blossoms the bright harness of horses jangling as they champ the bit, a knot of ﬂowers at every bridle, ﬂower-sellers with baskets at all convenient corners, and along the roadway carts Of Palms and growing plants bending and waving in the wind, every man one meets has got his button-hole, and every maiden wears her posy even the butcher-boy holds a bud between his thumb and finger, twirling it and smelling at it as he goes.
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