My Garden in Spring 



of Mendelism might investigate the family to see whether 

 tall, scentless, and yellow may not be a possible combina- 

 tion of Mendelian characters. The old forms possess such 

 an awful stink, a mixture of mangy fox, dirty dog-kennel, 

 the small cats' house at the Zoo, and Exeter Railway 

 Station, where for some unknown reason the trains let out 

 their superfluous gas to poison the travellers. The various 

 species of Codonopsis possess a similar odour, but have 

 the decency only to let it loose when broken, and then of 

 course it is fair for them to retaliate, but Crown Imperials 

 waft it abroad on a lovely Spring day without being touched. 

 One can do without the stinking Phuopsis stylosa (the 

 Crucianella and Old Foxy of my childhood) in the garden, 

 but I cannot forego Crown Imperials even though I have 

 to hold my nose sometimes when near them. Like most 

 things, however, this is a matter of taste, and hunting folk 

 enjoy this odour in gardens. I love showing children the 

 tears in a Crown Imperial's eyes, and of all the monkish 

 legends, I like best that which tells of the origin of these. 

 How that when Our Saviour entered the Garden of Geth- 

 semane all the flowers bowed their heads, save the Crown 

 Imperial, which was too proud of its green crown and up- 

 right circle of milk-white blossoms to show humility, but on 

 the other hand expected admiration. When gently reproved 

 by its Creator, it saw its error and bowed its head, flushing 

 red with shame, and has ever since held this position and 

 carried tears in its eyes. These honey drops are very 

 curious, and though the cavities which distil them and in 

 which they hang are to be found in some degree in other 

 Fritillarias, they reach their highest development in F. itn- 

 perialis, and being lined with white they have a wonderfully 

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