as, and nicotina affinis; while no less than thirty are dedicated
solely to vegetables, it having been borne in upon me lately that
vegetables must be interesting things to grow, besides possessing solid
virtues not given to flowers, and that I might as well take the orchard
and kitchen garden under my wing. So I have rushed in with all the zeal
of utter inexperience, and my February evenings were spent poring over
gardening books, and my days in applying the freshly absorbed wisdom.
Who says that February is a dull, sad, slow month in the country? It
was of the cheerfullest, swiftest description here, and its mild days
enabled me to get on beautifully with the digging and manuring, and
filled my rooms with snowdrops. The longer I live the greater is my
respect and affection for manure in all its forms, and already, though
the year is so young, a considerable portion of its pin-money has been
spent on artificial manure. The Man of Wrath says he never met a young
woman who spent her money that way before; I remarked that it must be
nice to have an original wife; and he retorted that the word original
hardly described me, and that the word eccentric was the one required.
Very well, I suppose I am eccentric, since even my husband says so; but
if my eccentricities are of such a practical nature as to result later
in the biggest cauliflowers and tenderest lettuce in Prussia, why then
he ought to be the first to rise up and call me blessed.

I sent to England for vegetable-marrow seeds, as they are not grown
here, and people try and make boiled cucumbers take their place; but
boiled cucumbers are nasty things, and I don't see why marrows should
not do here perfectly well. These, and primrose-roots, are the English
contributions to my garden. I brought over the roots in a tin box
last time I came from England, and am anxious to see whether they
will consent to live here. Certain it is that they don't exist in the
Fatherland, so I can only conclude the winter kills them, for surely,
if such lovely things would grow, they never would have been overlooked.
Irais is deeply interested in the experiment; she reads so many English
books, and has heard so much about primroses, and they have got so mixed
up in her mind with leagues, and dames, and Disraelis, that she longs
to see this mysterious political flower, and has made me promise to
telegraph when it appears, and she will come over. Bur they are not
going to do anything this year