CHAPTER XIII 



PRIVATE GARDENS 



Even in the stifling bosom of a toivn 



A garden, in ivhich nothing thrives, has charms 



That soothe the rich possessor ; , . , 



— CowPER. 



N writing of the private gardens of 

 London it is difficult to know 

 where to begin. There are a few 

 large and beautiful gardens, but 

 for the most part the smaller they 

 are, and the less there is to write 

 about them of interest to the 

 general reader, the more they are 

 of value to the happy possessors. It is the minute 

 back-garden, invaded by all the cats of the neighbour- 

 hood, with a few plants on which an infinity of time 

 and trouble, care and thought, have been expended, 

 that is the real typical London garden. What a joy to 

 see the patches of seeds come up in the summer, and 

 with v/hat expectation are the buds on the one lilac 

 bush examined to see if really at last it is going to 

 flower ! What pleasure the fern dug up on a summer 

 holiday gives, as it bravely uncurls its fronds year by 

 year ! What delight is occasioned if the Virginian 

 creeper, which covers the wall, grows more luxuriantly 



than those of the houses on either side, and what excite- 



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