68 ROCK GARDENS 



consist of a mound of earth and a number of 

 stones. Long, flat, spiky ones are generally- 

 chosen, and stuck up on end like so many 

 solitary gravestones, without the least connec- 

 tion one with the other ; in another, though 

 perhaps less objectionable, form, the stones are 

 laid flat ; or, in yet another type, a number of 

 large and ugly boulders are strewn over the 

 ground, apparently for no special purpose, and 

 certainly with no sense of cohesion. In none of 

 these types are the stones of the least use, either 

 for keeping the soil in position, or for showing 

 off the alpines planted there. The general result 

 is that the owners of these gardens, despairing 

 of ever making them " a thing of beauty " or 

 " a joy for ever," cover them as best they can 

 with Ferns, Sedums, Nasturtiums, or anything 

 that can be found to quickly hide their ugli- 

 ness. Mr Reginald Farrar, in his book My 

 Rock Garden, so aptly designates these forms 

 as the "almond pudding,'* the "dog's grave," 

 and the " devil's lapful." 



But bad as the above types are, they are yet 

 a great advance on that form, remains of which 

 are still occasionally seen — hideous arches. 



