THE RED ROCKERY 189 



coffee-scented bell-flower, codonopsis ovata, or glos- 

 socomia, if you prefer the name. The blossoms are 

 pale slate-blue, with an arrangement of orange and 

 black in the bottom of their chalices. Armerias and 

 hepaticas come next, and call for no particular men- 

 tion ; but the little dicentra cucullaria, or Dutchman's 

 breeches, demands censure for continually disappoint- 

 ing me. It develops abundant foliage, but, unlike 

 most of my American plants, is coy of flowering. 

 Trientalis europaea, a rare British plant, I much 

 admire. The little mite hangs out white stars from 

 among its leaves, and makes a pretty miniature on 

 the red rockery in June. Very small willow herbs 

 follow. At Kew I took a downy seed from one that 

 occurs in the superb rock-garden there. The seed 

 was doing nothing in particular, and would have 

 blown away to some other London suburb without 

 a doubt if I had left it. Therefore I put it in my 

 pocket-book. I hope no fearful penalties will over- 

 take this confession. At any rate, the mite does well, 

 and I can return Kew a hundred seeds for their one, 

 if called upon to do so. Salix herbacea is not a 

 willow-tree on which you could hang your harp, or 

 even your hat, for it only rises to an elevation of an 

 inch and a half. Beside it a real good mat of silene 

 acaulis flourishes, and its lovely green is starred in 

 spring with innumerable brilliant, rosy blossoms. 

 Some wet winter will doubtless destroy it. The only 

 hope is to plant perpendicularly. Loiseleuria pro- 

 cumbens, from Ben Lomond, has not taken the 

 change too kindly, and I fear designs to die. It is 



