190 A Little Maryland Garden 
fritillaries in the lower border. The only 
fritillary I have ever seen was the red variety 
which grows in the cafions near my old 
home. It is a dear little flower. The plants 
are graceful, stately-in-little, with slender 
lily leaves and drooping bells. To come 
upon it in its dainty perfection, under the 
shade of zslay or toyon, is always a happy 
discovery. These cafions of the foothills are 
delightful places for flowers. Under the live 
oaks is a carpet of crisp brown leaves. The 
air is sweet with yerba buena and ferns. 
One half the cafion lies in deep shadow, 
while opposite the sunny hillside slopes up 
and away, gay with scarlet Indian paint- 
brush, blue lupin and larkspur, and rattle- 
weed shaking out its warning notes on the 
breeze. 
But to come back to my tiny garden and 
its bulbs; a friend in California sent me some 
which he collected on his ranch. They 
reached me about the middle of October, 
and as he had neglected to name them, I was 
at a loss to know how to treat them. They 
