I ought not to forget, madam, to acquaint you, that this delicious orchard was watered after a very particular manner; there were channels so artificially and proportionably digged, that they carried water in abundance to the roots of such trees as wanted it for making them produce their leaves and flowers. Some carried it to those that had their fruit budded;* Others carried it in lesser quantities to those whose fruit was growing big; and others carried only so much as was just requisite to water those which had their fruit come to perfection, and only wanted to be ripened. They exceeded the ordinary fruits of our gardens very much in bigness; and, lastly, those channels that watered the trees whose fruits were ripe, had no more moisture than what would just preserve them from withering. I could never be weary to look at and admire so sweet a place; and I should never have left it, had I not conceived a greater idea of the other things which I had not seen. I went out at last with my mind filled with those wonders; I shut that door, and opened the next. Instead of an orchard, I found a flower-garden, which was no less extraordinary of its kind; it contained a spacious plot, not watered so profusely as the former, but with greater niceness, furnishing no more water than just what each flower required. The roses, jessamines, violets, dills, hyacinths, wind-flowers, tulips, crowsfoots, pinks, lilies, and an infinite number of other flowers, which do not grow in other places but at certain times, were there flourishing all at once; and nothing could be more delicious than the fragrant smell of this garden.