THE AMATEUR GARDEN 



democracy ! That is to say, it lies in her fences. 

 Her fences remain, her democracy is different 

 from the Northern variety. The difference may 

 consist only in faults both there and here which 

 we all hope to see democracy itself one day 

 eliminate; but the difference is palpable. The 

 fences mean that the dwellers behind them 

 have never accorded to each other, as neighbors, 

 that liberty-to-take-liberties of which Northern 

 householders and garden-holders, after a quar- 

 ter-century's disappointing experiment, are a bit 

 weary. 



In New Orleans virtually every home, be it 

 ever so proud or poor, has a fence on each of 

 its four sides. As a result the home is bounded 

 by its fences, not by its doors. Unpleasant ne- 

 cessities these barriers are admitted to be, and 

 those who have them are quite right in not 

 liking them in their bare anatomy. So they 

 clothe them with shrubberies and vines and 

 thus on the home's true corporate bound the 

 garden's profile, countenance and character are 

 established in the best way possible; without, 

 that is, any impulse toward embellishment in- 



174 



