30 THE GARDEN, YOU, AND I 



and there were groups of tiger and lemon lilies growing 

 out of the ragged turf, bunches of scarlet bee balm, or 

 Oswego tea, as it is locally called, while plantain lilies, 

 with deeply ribbed heart-shaped leaves, catnip, south- 

 ernwood, and mats of grass pinks. Single hollyhocks 

 of a few colours followed the fence line; tall phlox of 

 two colours, white and a dreary dull purple, rambled 

 into the grass and was scattered through the orchard, 

 in company with New England asters and various golden 

 rods that had crept up from the waste pasture- land be- 

 low; and a straggling line of button chrysanthemums, 

 yellow, white, maroon, and a sort of medicinal rhubarb- 

 pink, had backed up against the woodhouse as if seeking 

 shelter. Lilies- of- the- valley planted in the shade and 

 consequently anaemic and scant of bells, blended with 

 the blue periwinkle until their mingled foliage made a 

 great shield of deep, cool green that glistened against 

 its setting of faded, untrimmed grass. 



This garden, such as it was, could be truly called 

 hardy, insomuch as all the care it had received for 

 several years was an annual cutting of the longest 

 grass. The fittest had survived, and, among herbaceous 

 things, whatsoever came of seed, self-sown, had reverted 

 nearly to the original type, as in the case of hollyhocks, 

 phlox, and a few common annuals. The long grass, 



