letters. Just so with the penny-trumpet seed, and the toy-furniture
seed, the skate-seed, the sled-seed, and all the others.

Perhaps the prettiest, and most interesting part of the garden, is
that devoted to wax dolls. There are other beds for the commoner
dolls--for the rag dolls, and the china dolls, and the rubber dolls,
but of course wax dolls would look much handsomer growing. Wax dolls
have to be planted quite early in the season; for they need a good
start before the sun is very high. The seeds are the loveliest bits
of microscopic dolls imaginable. The Monks sow them pretty close
together, and they begin to come up by the middle of May. There is
first just a little glimmer of gold, or flaxen, or black, or brown, as
the case may be, above the soil. Then the snowy foreheads appear, and
the blue eyes, and the black eyes, and, later on, all those enchanting
little heads are out of the ground, and are nodding and winking and
smiling to each other the whole extent of the field; with their pinky
cheeks and sparkling eyes and curly hair there is nothing so pretty as
these little wax doll heads peeping out of the earth. Gradually, more
and more of them come to light, and finally by Christmas they are all
ready to gather. There they stand, swaying to and fro, and dancing
lightly on their slender feet which are connected with the ground,
each by a tiny green stem; their dresses of pink, or blue, or
white--for their dresses grow with them--flutter in the air. Just
about the prettiest sight in the world is the bed of wax dolls in the
garden of the Christmas Monks at Christmas time. Of course ever since
this convent and garden were established (and that was so long ago
that the wisest man can find no books about it) their glories have
attracted a vast deal of admiration and curiosity from the young
people in the surrounding country; but as the garden is enclosed on
all sides by an immensely thick and high hedge, which no boy could