EPOCHS OF THE FORMAL GARDEN 



boltonias. A white phlox near by has acquired a beau 

 tiful pink center, and its petals have a faint rosy tinge 

 in the morning sun. 



What the Cherokee rose is to California and the 

 South, what the cistus is to the arid plains of Italy, 

 such is the ivory white comeliness of the Japanese 

 anemone to our northern gardens. Promptly on the 

 first day of September it opens its folded petals, and, 

 growing more and more confident under the hot sun 

 and cool nights of autumn, it expands in numberless 

 exquisite flowers vying with the single dahlias for the 

 leading place in our affections. 



The two Japanese quinces planted at the east end 

 of the borders grew so large after six years that clip 

 ping was in vain and they had to be transplanted to 

 other fields of usefulness. The great clump of elms, 

 which we found in the north border and could not 

 bear to dislodge as it shaded so perfectly the kitchen- 

 house, became so overwhelming that it too had to go. 

 I know that it is only a question of time when the 

 white crushy rose known as the "Blanc double de 



69 



