IRIS 213 
from the fuller and more satisfying rotundity of the flag- 
shape, and from the clematoid broad magnificence of 
tectorum and Kaempferi. Others of this persuasion are of 
prime importance for the large bog; and of these the 
sovereign is Iris gigantea—the tallest grower of all, 
with immense great sword-like stiff leaves, and big flowers 
of creamy-white and orange, which are only just not big 
enough for the stature and general appearance of the 
plant. This, with all its cousinhood, is an easy and 
splendidly persistent plant in any cool moist soil, making 
a fine feature at the head of a lake, or in some deep damp 
nook, with its eight or ten feet of height, and its keen, 
fierce foliage stiff and stern as a New Zealand Flax. 
Similar, but not quite so great and high, are longifolia, 
aurea, Monnieri, spuria, their hybrid Monspur, and another 
hybrid called A. J. Balfour. Then comes the smaller 
Tris cuprea, with which I have never done much—more 
from lack of effort, I think, than for lack of anything 
else. Then with regard to our own two native Irises— 
pseud-acorus and foetidissima, let me enter a word of 
caution. Foetidissima is merely dull and harmless, with 
attractive seed-pods that open in autumn and winter, 
revealing rows of brilliant scarlet seeds amid the sere 
foliage. But pseud-acorus is a cunning creature, against 
whose wiles one must be watchful. It looks so mild and 
innocent that one admits it to the garden for old sake’s 
sake. As soon as it gets there it sets to work growing 
like Jack’s bean-stalk, and seeding like a groundsel. 
Years of effort will hardly rid you of the common yellow 
Flag-Iris, if once you admit it; and I assure the believing 
that I have seen it, under cultivation, grown to twice the 
stature of a full-grown man, an enormous, tropical-look- 
ing weed, making the Aloes ashamed, and wiping the 
Phormiums off the face of the earth. With what wry- 
mouthed disgust did the poor gardener contemplate that 
