Turf Notes.

So much for the garden plot. Let us now turn to the lawn. A lawn is a plot (almost a conspiracy, in fact) which grows grass in the winter when nobody wants to sit on it, and withers up in the summer when the lawn-sitting season is in full swing. The common worm (or sward-swallower) delights to cover a nice smooth lawn with earth-moulds, until it resembles the floor of a conference room at a convention of chewing-gum salesmen in U.Say.. Of course worms are useful for perforating the pericardium of the greensward to admit oxygen from the air and beneficial juices from the upper reaches. A worm's life, in fact, is just one good turn after another. When it comes to turning, a worm is capable of making Dick Whittington look like Lot's wife. It fills itself with mud, worms its way to the height of its ambition, holes out in one, and returns for more—and so on, “add spinfinitum.” From this habit arises the adage, “Every worm has his turn.”