JUNE MAGIC 87 



Roses, with clumps of the great Dalmatian Iris, and 

 bushes of Rue and Southernwood. 



Pinks belong to June and are, of all her belongings, the 

 very sweetest; indeed, they seem to me the sweetest 

 flowers of any month. Once I set out to know all the 

 Pinks, wild and tame, but soon found that my garden 

 was not suited to all: the little alpines, Dianthus 

 neglectus, alpinus, glacialis, and some others that I 

 sought to please, dwindled and pined in a sadly home- 

 sick manner. I gathered together all the catalogues, 

 foreign and domestic, that listed the seeds, or plants of 

 Pinks, and collected all the Pink literature which is 

 little enough, considering the charm of the subject and 

 after much experimenting and petitioning, have a deli- 

 cious company settled in nooks and corners about the 

 garden, though many that I wanted badly could not see 

 their way to stay. 



The first I had was, of course, Dianthus plumarius, 

 the Grass or Scotch Pink, that everybody knows and 

 loves. It has many fine hybrids, some so fine as to cost 

 twenty-five cents the packet, but the cheaper ones are as 

 sweet, and they are among the friendliest things of 

 the whole summer, spreading quickly into great soft- 

 coloured mats, starred with sweet, fringed blossoms, 

 double or single. The old pure-white fringed Pink, D. 

 fimbriatus, and its double sort make charming border 

 edgings, and another good white one for this purpose is 

 Mrs. Sinkins, very fat and double. Still others are Her 



