138 MY GARDEN 



is an endearing quality, this of the Delphiniums, to come 

 back at the very end of the season that we may carry 

 the memory of their perfect blue through the lowering 

 days to come. Many times, after very low temperature 

 in late November, I have gathered a few of these azure 

 wands, still frailer and more delicately clothed, but 

 dearer far than the great splendid flower stalks of mid- 

 summer. Dear, too, are the little nosegays of China 

 Roses and Mignonette one may gather at this season, 

 the sprays of Honeysuckle or the wide-eyed purple 

 Pansies. 



There is not now that exuberant plenty, with the re- 

 sulting confusion, which belongs to mid-summer, and 

 what flowers there are stand out in the simple autumn 

 sunlight, that seems to envelop the world in a sort of 

 luminous sheen, with a special meaning and significance. 

 It is now that we are especially grateful to the gray and 

 metallic-leaved plants, for their foliage is in nowise im- 

 paired by the early frosts, and the sof t-hued mounds and 

 bushes and trails are particularly lovely and helpful in 

 creating a few more charming pictures for us before 

 winter claims our garden. Here a late pink hardy 

 Aster trails a branch across the Rue bushes there a few 

 loose white rugosa Roses gleam above some hoary 

 Southernwood bushes, and a flame-coloured Nasturtium 

 has burst into a riot of bloom below the rounds of 

 Lavender Cotton. In another part of the garden self- 

 sown pink Snapdragons in the retaining wall are lovely 



