38 A WHITE-PAPER GARDEN 



have our days when the tea rose is all-in-all 

 to us ; and we may have moods in which the 

 appeal comes from the gorgeous hybrids, but 

 it is always the big, triumphant roses for 

 which we care. Later we come to an ap- 

 preciation of the simpler flowers, the pink- 

 and- white cabbage roses, the hardy little 

 Scotch roses, or the sweetbriar, and at last 

 we arrive at the rose of a hundred leaves, and 

 then we know that we have reached the top 

 of the hill. 



We do not lay aside any of our old loves 

 even then. They are a part of ourselves, and 

 we could as easily change the colour of our 

 eyes as our loyalty to those tried friends, 

 but henceforth we add others slowly to our 

 affections, and these are chosen frankly be- 

 cause of their wearing qualities. Asters come 

 in for a great share of our favour, and hardy 

 phlox, and even dahlias, and zinnias, and 

 always chrysanthemums. In a world where 

 life is a vain and fleeting show as saith the 

 old hymn and all passes like a dream, we 

 come to hold fast by the sturdier friends who 

 can stay with us for a longer time than the 

 rose's little day, or for the brief glory of the 



