212 THE GARDEN, YOU, AND I 



yellow, a dull green, gobelin, and Delft blue and white, 

 sacred to the jugs and bowls of our grandmothers, all 

 do well. Cut glass is a fine setting for flowers of strong 

 colour, but kills the paler hues, and above and beyond 

 all is the dark moss-green glass of substantial texture 

 that is fashioned in an endless variety of shapes. By 

 chance, gift, and purchase we have gathered about a dozen 

 pieces of this, ranging from a cylinder almost the size 

 of an umbrella-stand down through fluted, hat-shaped 

 dishes, for roses or sweet peas, to some little troughs of 

 conventional shapes in which pansies or other short- 

 stemmed flowers may be arranged so as to give the look 

 of an old-fashioned parterre to the dining table. 



I had always found these useful, but never quite 

 realized to the full that green or brown is the only consist- 

 ent undercolour for all field and grass-growing flowers 

 until this summer. But during days that I have spent 

 browsing in the river woods, while Bart and Barney, 

 and more recently Larry, have been digging the herbs 

 that we have marked; I have realized the necessity of 

 a certain combinaticn of earth, bark, and dead-leaf 

 browns in the receptacles for holding wood flowers and 

 the vines that in their natural ascent clasp and cling to 

 the trunks and limbs of trees. 



Several years ago mother sent me some pretty flower- 



