106 A Little Maryland Garden 
their weight of blossoms. Banks of pink 
hundred-leaf showered their petals on the 
ground, and scented the air with attar-of- 
roses. Mme. Plantier was covered with snow, 
and Princess Bonnie with vivid scarlet. Old 
plants given me from an old garden, whose 
names no one could discover, were covered 
with flowers from the ground to their topmost 
stems, of deep crimson, almost blackish red, 
and bright pink. There were roses every- 
where. After all my failures and tentative 
experiments and nursing of sickly stock, I 
had my reward. 
Another beautiful display was made by 
the peonies. In addition to the several 
plants of Festiva maxima, there were three 
pink ones that had not bloomed before. 
One of these was the colour of a damask 
rose, large but not heavily compact, a beauti- 
ful variety. My old dark purplish-crimson 
one, semi-double with a golden heart, had 
immense blooms. Before I left the old- 
fashioned ‘‘crimson piney,” the earliest of 
all, had flowered. I now have these noble 
