128 A GARDEN OF PLEASURE 



of a Pine-apple. * Deborah's ' little mount 

 in the parterre was a while ago parcel- 

 gilt with the silver of small white hare- 

 bells, and the gold of yellow stonecrop. 

 It is grieving to recall thus the garden 

 as it was ! Sweet things do still remain, 

 but after all the daily waterings some- 

 times whole days are spent in water- 

 ing the place as a whole is parched 

 up with long drought. Some things 

 dwindle, and cannot by any means be 

 saved. Eleven weeks without rain ! 

 Long weeks when the sun burns un- 

 clouded, and the only clouds are clouds of 

 greenfly, that is the worst ; greenfly that 

 destroy whole rows of sweet peas in a 

 single night, and blackfly that smother the 

 fruit trees, and distort the stalks of lovely 

 poppies. If one sits in the garden they 

 settle all over one, and outside the garden, 

 down along the roads, one encounters 

 storms of flying aphides. Flycatchers sit 

 stupidly on the rose arches, bewildered by 

 the myriads that float in the air. The 

 lime avenue is dried up, and yet dripping 

 with honeydew. Rain will come at last, 



