i8o EVERSLEY GARDENS 



ways and masses of the Wild garden and all 

 its treasures into the leafy heart of the un- 

 touched oak wood. But one fairy spot remains 

 at the western end of the valley beyond the 

 ponds. Approached through a grove of stan- 

 dard Fuchsias, a grassy floor under lofty trees 

 is thick set with a mass of pink Hydrangeas 

 against the dense copse and wood that slopes 

 up to Finchampstead Ridges and its heather 

 the lovely ending of our lovely pilgrimage.' 



Many and exquisite are the phases of this 

 Garden of Delight. Yet perhaps it is never 

 more enchanting than in bulb time. And 

 what may be done with an unlimited quantity 

 of Daffodils of all sorts and kind, was revealed 

 to me one Spring day some three years ago. 

 Its gifted creator, whom I am so proud to call 

 my friend, had said, " Come and see my Poly- 

 anthus and Daffodils ; " and naturally I hastened 

 to respond to such an invitation. At each turn 

 it seemed as if the actual limit of beauty must 

 have been reached, as we journeyed leisurely 

 from the beds of Polyanthus in front of the 

 house, and Magnolia stellata in a sheltered 



