46 THE MOONLIGHT LECTURE 



paved walk to where stand two Dorothy Perkins 

 roses in big wooden tubs, trained to fall weeping 

 over circular hoops. These two are upon either 

 side of the wide steps that go to the grass terrace 

 below and seem to keep watch like two sentinels 

 on duty. Then, the most striking forms are 

 those of a couple of tall dark bay trees, clipped to 

 look like orange trees. Indeed, by this light, 

 standing in their massive Italian terra-cotta pots, 

 all decorated with graceful moulded garlands, they 

 might almost be guarding the steps leading to 

 terraces in a Florentine villa garden. In reality, 

 they lead to where a second flight of stairs 

 descends to the central grass walk between the wide 

 herbaceous borders. 



This is not the way we go to-night, for the moon- 

 light lecture takes place in the very heart of the 

 garden, near the potting-shed and frame ground 

 where all thought and material is to be found for 

 rearing healthy, sturdy plants. Already, on the 

 high ground where the greenhouses stand, like 

 crystal treasure-houses in the white moonlight, little 

 glowing red lanterns are seen flitting to and fro, 

 carried by students who run in search of tools that 

 may be required. 



I pass round the second small bow of the house, 

 and as I fondly touch the thick, sweet-smelling 

 bush of rosemary that grows against it, I find 

 myself in an illuminated arbour. A bright, warm 

 light shines through the window of the Captain's 

 Cabin, and makes the treillage-roofed, little paved 

 courtyard seem like the background to a scene in a 

 play. A favourite pale-blue colour which is much 



