JUNE 127 



This is all of the garden visible from the 

 porches or windows of the house. It is not 

 a rich man's garden, and it is a small one, 

 but it is perfectly satisfying. 



Even in my dreams I should be slow to 

 think that I could add to the praise of the rose. 

 It speaks all languages, as Emerson tells us, 

 and all languages have spent themselves in 

 their homage to the flower which has the 

 world's heart for her own. Here and there 

 are stray souls who cleave to other idols, but 

 to the most of men she is what her name im- 

 plies the flower. Where, or how, this befell 

 we know not, but we are told that each of the 

 Four Great Peoples of Asia chose a variety of 

 the rose as its emblem, and if this be true, who 

 can say but that man's passion for this flower 

 may not be a part of that past by which he is 

 bound to his remotest ancestors in a thousand 

 different and unsuspected ways ? The rose of 

 a hundred leaves was the type chosen by the 

 Indo-Germanic stock from which we are sprung, 

 and it is pleasant to think that it is not the 

 tenderest personal association, not aesthetic 

 delight, but a feeling far deeper, that makes the 

 heart stir at the sound of her name. Each one 



