THE GREATER BOG-PLANTS 179 
the manner of Spiraea Aruncus. As a water-side plant 
Senecio clivorum quite extinguishes its other big robust 
cousins, the Ligularias, fine dock-leaved things, with 
tall spires of uninteresting, stodgy yellow. 
Senecio thianshanicus is another new introduction, also 
from Upper China. For this I have so far but little use. 
Its growth and leafage is that of a Wormwood, and its 
inflorescence cloudy and loose, made up of innumerable 
minute flowers, reminds me of a Golden-rod—a thing I 
hate—or else of a yellow Spiraea. Also it seems to run 
about and form a colony. Late summer and autumn 
sees these stout Groundsels in their prime, but when they 
are going to rest they are followed, in late October, 
November, and December, by the insolent, dreadful glory 
of Senecio pulcher. 'Yhe beautiful Senecio hails from 
Mexico, a smallish plant by comparison with its giant 
kindred, growing to two feet or a little more, with 
spatulate basal leaves of glaucous blue-grey, leathery and 
smooth, and then, on a bare stem, three or four large 
flowers of a blazing magenta-purple, eyed with gold. In 
dull dead days, the fire of this is wonderful in rare 
glimpses of the pale sunlight, and the plant has thus an 
artificial value besides that of its own intrinsic splendour. 
But this unexpectedly hardy exotic is not, after all, of 
perfectly unquestioned hardiness. And it is by no means a 
plant for the bog. On the contrary, it detests superfluous 
moisture, and must have, to do itself justice and be 
permanent, a warm, sheltered, sunny corner well up on 
the rock-work, in very deep rich soil, warm and light, 
through which its vast vermicelli roots may go roaming 
untroubled by corroding damps. 
Let us now deal compendiously with the other Ground- 
sels, since among them we are landed, leaping away for 
a moment from the low-lying territory of the bog. And 
a far leap it is, too; away through the clear air to the 
