The Farmer And The Gardener Are Both

Violence, Passion, Indignation, Loyalty, Integrity, Incorruptibility, Shameless Egoism, Generosity, Excitability, Energy, A Hundred Horse-power Drive - None Of It Very Subtle: Ethel [smyth] Didn't Deal In Pastel Shades, She Went For The Stronger Colors, The Blood-red, Anything Deep And Pumping Out Of The Arteries Of The Heart.

The Public, As A Whole, Finds Reassurance In Longevity, And, After The Necessary Interlude Of Reaction, Is Disposed To Recognize Extreme Old Age As A Sign Of Excellence. The Long-liver Has Triumphed Over At Least One Of Man's Initial Handicaps: The Brevity Of Life.

It Is Dreadful How I Miss You, And Everything That Everybody Says Seems Flat And Stupid.

Flowers Really Do Intoxicate Me.

The Farmer And The Gardener Are Both Busy, The Gardener Perhaps The More Excitable Of The Two, For He Is More Of The Amateur, Concerned With The Creation Of Beauty Rather Than With The Providing Of Food. Gardening Is A Luxury Occupation; An Ornament, Not A Necessity, Of Life.