16 MY GARDEN 



of militiamen and a bevy of opera dancers. A 

 gardener's hyacinth has no excuse for its existence 

 in my opinion ; nor has a double tulip. In face 

 of the might of Holland, I declare these things. 

 But it must be confessed that I am prejudiced in 

 the matter of most double flowers. Certainly "flore 

 pleno" always checks my enthusiasm. Even that 

 grand phrase, "duplex varieties," which our horti- 

 cultural specialists sometimes soar to, seldom catches 

 me. Of course, one excepts many noble things, 

 but, speaking generally, form is lost. There are, 

 perhaps, twenty double flowers that no garden can 

 do without ; but not more. 



Below my top terrace I have cut another, and made 

 a rock-border there. It is forty-five yards long, and 

 built up two feet high in front. It rises to a height 

 of five feet, and is about seven or eight feet broad. 

 Paths run through it, and a straight walk stretches 

 in front. Shade-loving alpines have another place 

 called the " red rockery," because it is built of sand- 

 stone conglomerate. This of which I now speak 

 lies in the eye of the sun, and I call it the " white 

 rockery." It is made of limestone. I find there are 

 not many saxifrages that object to our sun, though 

 in their homes the encrusted sorts appear rather to 

 avoid it. In Italy I found one of this species clinging 

 to the eastern face of moist rocks ; but their root- 

 hold was extremely slight ; they were growing in 

 sheets of moss ; and no doubt in such quarters the 

 noon sun would have been too much for them. It 

 was an object-lesson on the science of planting 



