OF SHRUBS AND THEIR PLACING 21 
ing east winds. I said good-bye, in my heart, to Buddleia 
Colvillet. But Buddleia Colvillet was not to be got rid 
of. It grew all through that weather, as I have rarely 
seen a plant grow; and by autumn it was three feet 
across, bushy and robust, and about two feet high. I 
sheltered it with gorse as our last dreadful winter grew 
on, but, so far as I can see, Buddleta Colvillei, though 
cut back, seems inclined to break again, more vigorous 
than ever, regardless of inclement seasons. When or 
whether it will flower remains, of course, a different 
question. 
Now comes the last great race of deciduous shrubs (for 
Azalea is to be lumped, nowadays, with Rhododendron) 
for the rock-garden. The one crime of which all the 
Magnolias except summer-blooming glauca are guilty, is 
of flowering within reach of late frosts which reduce their 
pure and waxy fragrance to a mass of brown feculent 
rottenness. Otherwise they are all rivals in beauty and 
charm. Glorious Ywlan and its kin are perhaps too large 
for small gardens ; even Kobus and Watsoni develop into 
trees. But surely they are so delicious that every garden 
must allow them room to the last possible moment. All 
are easy, all are fragrant, all are magnificently, regally 
beautiful. I grow Kobus, Watsoni, glauca, rustica rubra, 
Yulan, obovata, hypoleuca (the great forest-Magnolia of 
the Japanese Alps), stellata, tripetala, and the very rare 
salicifolia. Stellata, of course, is the jewel of jewels for 
the rock-garden—quite a small, close shrub, three or four 
feet in height, with myriads of pearly goblets that open 
out into stars. Rustica rubra is a variety of uncertain 
origin, akin to soulangeana, with big chalices of soft deep 
rose. (Alas, that the supreme beauty of all, Magnolha 
Campbelliae, is of no use over the greater part of England, 
and even in favoured corners of Ireland and the south 
only deigns to show its huge coralline cups occasionally, 
