48 MY GARDEN 



monarchs, have shot a reckless three inches into the air, 

 and would be utterly and everlastingly nipped in the bud 

 did we not watch the weather signs and bundle them up 

 at the slightest hint of a "change." 



When the baby Spring is old enough to sit up and 

 keep an eye upon her domain, the time has come to 

 awaken the flowers, and I always do it myself, for I 

 would not miss for anything their first sleepy greetings 

 and the sight of their tumbled heads as we turn back the 

 brown blanket and know that they are stretching their 

 cramped limbs and drawing long, ecstatic breaths of the 

 wonderful, winter-sweetened air. 



Here we have not yet acquired Christmas Roses or 

 Winter Aconites, so the Snowdrop is the first comer, 

 though often accompanied by Crocus Imperati in a 

 south border and closely followed by the brilliant flowers 

 of 7m reticulata. In a north border, where the sun 

 reaches them for part of the day only, the Snowdrops 

 have a long period of bloom, and are often on hand to 

 gleam shyly with the corpulent Dutch Crocuses and 

 early Daffodils. But in the more sheltered situations 

 they come so early as to have the field almost to them- 

 selves. They are charming grown beneath a ground 

 cover of English Ivy or in woodland places where they 

 pierce and shine above a carpet of brown leaves, and are 

 most effective when planted in large numbers. They 

 will do well almost anywhere, but in a rather moist, 

 loamy soil and partial shade they increase more rapidly 



