Everybody has heard of the great English artist who, when asked what he mixed his paints with, replied, I mix them with brains, sir. There is an old story about a poor widow who went to her pastor and complained that, al though she prayed every day for a good crop, her garden refused to yield it. After inspecting her soil the pastor remarked: My dear madam, prayer is the greatest thing in the world, but you must also use the brains the good Lord gave you. Your garden needs fertilizer. Cantaloupes, writes Robert Welles Ritchie in the Country Gentleman, are not a cheap crop — not a hit-and-miss crop. Brains, infinite patience, money, and then some more brains go into the rearing of it. The same is true of most other crops, useful or ornamental. If carried on with intelligence, gardening is a succession of delicious thrills.