1 68 Old Time Gardens 



painted with fervor by artists — and still you do 

 not love them. I do not love Tulips, but I wel- 

 come them very cordially in my garden. Others 

 have loved them ; the Tulip has had her head 

 turned by attention. 



Some flowers we like at first sight, but they do 

 not wear well. This is a hard truth ; and I shall 

 not shame the garden-creatures who have done their 

 best to please by betraying them to the world, save 

 in a single case to furnish an example. In late 

 August the Bergamot blossoms in luxuriant heads 

 of white and purplish pink bloom, similar in tint 

 to the abundant Phlox. Both grow freely in the 

 garden of Sylvester Manor. When the Bergamot 

 has romped in your borders for two or three years, 

 you may wish to exile it to a vegetable garden, 

 near the blackberry vines. Is this because it is an 

 herb instead of a purely decorative flower ? You 

 never thus thrust out Phlox. A friend confesses to 

 me that she exiled even the splendid scarlet Berga- 

 mot after she had grown it for three years in her 

 flower-beds ; such subtle influences control our 

 flower-loves. 



Beautitul and noble as are the grand contributions 

 of the nineteenth century to us from the garden and 

 fields of Japan and China, we seldom speak of loving 

 them. Thus the Chinese White Wistaria is similar 

 in shape of blossom to the Scotch Laburnum, though 

 a far more elegant, more lavish flower ; but the 

 Laburnum is the loved one. I used to read long- 

 ingly of the Laburnum in volumes of English 

 poetry, especially in Hood's verses, beginning: — 



