The Rescue of an Old Place 



Honuly 

 flowert. 



An aged 

 Box arbor. 



There are clumps of Tiger Lilies, and 

 old-fashioned small Bluebells, and Sweet 

 Williams, and a Barberry bush swings its 

 yellow blossoms and red berries over the 

 rear wall ; and under the Box-arbor I found 

 Spiderwort growing in great clusters. 



One day, while strolling down along the 

 orchard fence, a familiar odor, heavy and 

 sweet, led me on to where a wild Aza- 

 lea was hanging out its fragrant blos- 

 soms. I do not see why a hedge of these 

 might not do well in this moist soil. I 

 hailed this one with delight as an orna- 

 ment to the place. 



But what we like best is the fine old 

 Box arbor, which has grown up from a 

 garden border until its stout trees are now 

 six inches in diameter, and nearly ten 

 feet high, which shows their great age. 

 They were fair-sized bushes when old men 

 of this town were boys, and to make even 

 a bush of a Box plant is slow work. Here, 

 shaded by a young Elm which has sprung 

 up in the kindly shelter of these twisted 

 old trunks, we sit and look out upon the 

 meadow and the growing plants, and feel 



7* 



