O r R C O UN T R Y HO M E 



berries? It twines and twists its small leaved steins over itself if 

 nothing else is near, and for covering an archway it is invaluable. 

 The tiny white flowers are fragrant, but the clusters of berries on its 

 leafless stems against the snow are a delight to the winter rambler. 



Besides the kudzu we have to thank Japan for another vine, 

 the akebia quinata. Its five rounded leaflets appear in May and 

 keep a vivid green far into the winter. We have not been so suc- 

 cessful with this vine as we should like, but we know the reason 

 why. One-inch gas-pipe is the best support for its thin wiry stems. 

 The face of the Constant Improver was a study when I proposed 

 placing this horror in one compartment of the trellis on the south 

 terrace. Gas-pipe! Gas-pipe, indeed! No, the akebia could 

 die first. But it did n't, it only sulked and made faces and yet 

 struggled along. After three years, one twisting spray has man- 

 aged to reach the second story and, after its leaves have ripened off, 

 makes green the woodbine stalks. For of course we have the wood- 

 bine, trained on the timbers of the house to the roof, its lovely 

 purple berries and crimson stems fringing the windows and attract- 

 ing the catbirds and veeries in September. How curiously it 

 attaches itself to the walls by little flat, red, sucker-like disks at 

 the tips of the tendrils ! It has been supposed that it secretes some 

 kind of cement, for it adheres to smooth surfaces though it prefers 

 rough ones. 



On the boulder wall of the terrace are clumps of the old- 

 fashioned Halliana honeysuckle, which blossoms more or less all 



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