A Moonlight Garden 429 



The wild Primrose opens slowly, hesitatingly, 

 it trembles open, but the garden Primrose flares 

 open. 



The Evening Primrose is usually classed with 

 sweet-scented flowers, but that exact observer, 

 E. V. B., tells of its " repulsive smell. At night 

 if the stem be shaken, or if the flower-cup trembles 

 at the touch of a moth as it alights, out pours the 

 dreadful odor.'* I do not know that any other 

 garden flower opens with a distinct sound. Owen 

 Meredith's poem, The Aloe, tells that the Aloe 

 opened with such a loud explosive report that the 

 rooks shrieked and folks ran out of the house to 

 learn whence came the sound. 



The tall columns of the Yucca or Adam's Needle 

 stood like shafts of marble against the hedge trees 

 of the Indian Hill garden. Their beautiful blooms 

 are a miniature of those of the great Century Plant. 

 In the daytime the Yucca's blossoms hang in 

 scentless, greenish white bells, but at night these 

 bells lift up their heads and expand with great stars 

 of light and odor a glorious plant. Around their 

 spire of luminous bells circle pale night moths, lured 

 by the rich fragrance. Even by moonlight we can 

 see the little white detached fibres at the edge of the 

 leaves, which we are told the Mexican women used 

 as thread to sew with. And we children used to 

 pull off the strong fibres and put them in a needle 

 and sew with them too. 



When I see those Yuccas in bloom I fully believe 

 that they are the grandest flowers of our gardens ; 

 but happily, I have a short garden memory, so I 



