JUNE 135 



carries its own burden of fragrant sadness. 

 Beside the poorest cottage door the rose will 

 bloom with every whit as good a will as by a 

 palace wall. It is her divine simplicity which 

 makes her queen of hearts. 



In the old gardens of the day before our own 

 the rose was at its best. Not the varieties 

 that are the pride of the florists' arts and 

 crafts, but the old free bloomers that old-time 

 people knew and loved. Madame Plantier with 

 her lovely offerings of white, apricot-flushed, 

 yellow-stamened blossoms ; cabbage roses, 

 oldest of types, since it was the favourite of 

 the Rome of the Caesars ; banksias, the 

 hardy little Scotch roses ; the old-fashioned 

 yellow rose, with small leaves and few 

 petals, making 



" Sunshine in a shady place " ; 



the old Giant of Battles was there, and the 

 yet older George the Fourth, so deep in colour 

 as to be almost black ; the York and Lancaster ; 

 the broad-petalled, sweet-breathed old June 

 rose, which overgrows ragged lawns with its 

 sturdy little bushes, and last and best the dear, 

 dear damask rose, with its hundred leaves. 



