136 MY GARDEN 



the wind/' directs the great authority : a good rule 

 that for all the Juno race. 



Caucasica is also here, and with alata, the " scorpion 

 iris," one may conclude the group. Perhaps this 

 sole representative of a Western Juno is the love- 

 liest of them all. The form is very fine, and the 

 best colour a rich purple-blue, while on each fall 

 flashes the orange " signal," like that little flame on a 

 golden-crested wren's head. From October and on- 

 wards it blooms, but too surely passes away from 

 rectitude after a year of my garden, and hides the 

 lapse for a while in bunches of foliage innocent of 

 flower. Would that we had the climate and the 

 genius of the Dutch for these things ! Junos laugh at 

 cold, if only the summer has been of a sort to ripen 

 them ; but with me it seldom is. Devon, in fact, 

 cannot be called a really good iris county, excepting 

 for the moisture-lovers. From what I have seen, I 

 would back the high and sandy ridges of Kent against 

 any part of the United Kingdom for these flowers. 

 The sustained cheapness of the noble family alone 

 keeps me here struggling with them in the mud : 

 because, while ripe bulbs are to be had at such trifling 

 rates, it matters but little if they perish. Nothing 

 suffers save a man's own horticultural self-respect. 



The Hermodactylus group is represented, so far as 

 I know, by iris tuberosa only. The " snake's head," 

 or "little widow," prospers in half shade with me, and 

 sends up a modest company of quiet blooms in 

 March. The style-arms are delicate green ; the 

 standards are upright green threads folded in on 



