Sept. 24.—We were down town yesterday and we admit that we felt as much at home as a canary at a cat show. We soon got tired of the jostling on the streets and entered one of the oldest, if not the oldest, gardens in Shanghai. As we were looking at the fruit on the ginko trees at the entrance our thoughts wandered we thought of the number of persons who had passed beneath the trees since they were planted: of the many Empire builders who must have seen them and of the people who have left the trees behind them on their way to pastures new, where they have continued their good work on behalf of their King and Country We thought of the trenches which were close to the trees not so very long ago and of the men who had occupied the post nearby. Some of them may have been in the battle of France. some may have mace the supreme sacrifice while others may be "standing by" to do their duty the Channel coast. We saw a lady working in one of the gardens: trowel in one hand and a plant in the other and we thought of the thousands of Land Girls in England today who have more or less discarded "Jungle red" for the duration and become daughters of the soil. As we walked along the main driveway of the grounds we could not help but admire their bright appearance: not so long ago they looked dull, but now flower beds break the monotony. One, in front of us, was gay with zinnias and a few groups of blue salvia, we also noticed a small batch of catmint and another of petunia, while a lonely tuberose was looking around at its neighbours. On each side of the driveway were other: two were full of red s while an edging of cgleus wa:
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.