(_Children in the Midlands give this name to the disc shaped fruit
of Honesty._)
My garden is a beggar's pitch
That Heaven throws its coins upon;
And in the Summer I am rich,
And in the Winter all is gone;
Yet as the long days hurry by
I keep my pitch, content and free,
Where in a sweet profusion lie
Fair Marigolds and Honesty;
And oft I turn and count for fun
My largess from the night and noon--
The golden tokens of the sun,
The silver pennies of the moon!
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Illustration: "I'M SORRY TO 'AVE TO SAY, MUM, 'E'S BIN A VERY BAD DOG
WHILST YOU WAS HOUT. 'E'S BIN AN' EAT UP 'IS PATRIOTIC RIBBON."
* * * * *