124 MY SHRUBS 



it, referred to Pieris or Andromeda. I mean Z. speciosa, from the 

 United States, praised elsewhere as Pieris cassincefolia. This is 

 among the most beautiful treasures in the garden. Give it half shade 

 and peat, or good loam free of lime, and you should succeed, and 

 rejoice at the splendid thing when June returns. 



Zizyphtis I do not see in the catalogues, though Z. lotus ^ a 

 South European, should be very nearly hardy. This, according 

 to legend, yielded the sweet fare of the Lotophagi. Z. vulgaris, 

 whose fruits are still appreciated, is counted hardy by Nicholson. 

 These good shrubs should be introduced. Z. jujuba is the Jujube 

 Tree, a species much cultivated, but only to be grown in the green- 

 house at home. The last-named grows under glass at Kew, and they 

 have Z. vulgaris in the open ; but neither fruits there. 



And now, before you escape, let me say a few words. It must 

 not be suspected from this list of names, for the most part ugly, 

 that I am one of those hopeless subjects, a gardener who only collects 

 plants as other people collect postage stamps — for their rarity. I 

 spurn the suggestion. No plant is here for its rarity, and few are rare. 

 I could not be a competitive gardener, and would deprecate the least 

 effort at competition even if it were possible. A shrub that has 

 nothing else to commend it but its rarity possesses no charm for 

 me. One's concern is to collect beautiful things for delight and not 

 for pride. My garden is too trifling even to make a rite of showing 

 it. You may complete an ambit in two minutes. The spot is 

 merely an extension of study and workroom — a private sanctity in 

 whose adornment I take my pleasure. There is no question of 

 fashion here, for it violates all the latest theories of what a small 

 garden should be ; rather is it a manifestation of individual taste 



