A Prank of Nature

A PRANK OF NATURE.

I laid out a garden
My spacious back yard in,
On April the first or somewhere thereabouts.
I dug and I spaded,
I sowed and I graded;
For two weeks thereafter I watched it for sprouts.

When Sol shone and baked it,
I watered and raked it,
As Burbank, I fancied myself quite as wise.
I worked so discreetly;
Each bed made so neatly,
My neighbors gazed at me with envious eyes.

How well I remember!
The first of September
Arrived, and my heart fluttered, sickened and sore.
No shoots were up peeping;
My garden lay sleeping
As sproutless and fruitless as five months before.

“It’s either enchanted,
Or hoodooed or haunted,”
I thought as I gazed at each somnolent bed.
That night came a frost, and
I said, “All is lost,” and
I bundled my garden tools off to the shed.

A week or two later,
Just back from Decatur,
I entered my garden, but what a surprise!
For pease and tomatoes,
Beans, corn and potatoes
Loomed smiling, to gladden my wondering eyes.

The wind of November,
The sleet of December
Worked overtime urging the young shoots to grow
You may not believe me,
But  that doesn’t grieve me,
My vegetables ripened in two feet of snow.

EMMETT R. BAILEY.
Syracuse, May 17th

Syracuse Herald (Syracuse, New York) May 21, 1911

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