The Potomac and Rappahannock 



ginia hilltop. A forest of dainty white blossoms is massed on 

 each side of the house on the west. Countless numbers of min- 

 iature roses they appear. On the east an avenue of the same shrub 

 meets the privet hedge, still other avenues of snowy-white blossoms 

 extend to the tangle of roses and honeysuckle, near the vegetable 

 garden. 



Then, when summer comes, shrubs and flowers sparkle in their 

 gorgeous colors. There are masses of weigela, summer lilacs, 

 phlox, clematis, and calycanthus. Roses, iris, and other gay 

 perennials vie with each other in color and fragrance. They dot 

 the emerald lawn, some in the blazing summer sunshine, others in 

 the softened shade of the mimosa and the fir trees. Between the 

 flowering quince and the euonymus bush is sunk the shallow, con- 

 crete bath for the birds. With hearts filled full of the joy of living, 

 they chatter over their daily splash. Bees are lazily droning out 

 their same old summer song. Butterflies are flirting with their 

 favorite flowers. The timid squirrel peeps from the blossoming 

 shrubbery; but, like a flash, he is safe in the tall treetop. All 

 nature is in tune with the season. 



If the Battailes and Gordons of the olden days at Prospect Hill 

 were ambitious for the future of the loved old garden, their 

 brightest hopes are realized. At every season it is one of the 

 loveliest in all this section of beautiful garden spots. 



Dora C. Jett. 



[233] 



