THE MATTER OF NAMES. 



Of course there must be variety. It 

 might be inferred from an inspection of 

 the majority of our gardens, that no 

 novelty had been introduced into this 

 country for the last sixty or seventy 

 years, and that straight walks through 

 huge clumps of evergreens, chiefly 

 laurels, and their boundless continuity 

 of shade, left nothing to be desired. 

 The true gardener will thankfully avail 

 himself of all the beneficent gifts which 

 reward his patient study and science in 

 the production of new varieties. 



In every garden there must be, 

 wherever there may be, seclusion, quiet 

 retreats for for rest and retirement, for 

 contemplation made. Our garden 

 should be our Jerusalem, " the vision 

 and possession of peace." I must have 

 a place to flee unto, when I know that 

 the great landau of the Wopperton- 

 Wickses is in my avenue, because one 

 of their gigantic horses, a little touched 

 in the wind, is loudly expressing his 

 disapproval of a sudden rise in the 

 ground, and because I catch a glimpse 

 the trees of the gorgeous liveries, the 

 cockades, and the calves, and the elab- 



orate amorial bearing of the Woppertons 

 and the Wickses mixed. 



It is from these dissonant intrusions 

 which confuse the brain, impede the 

 digestive organs, and turn the tranquil 

 waters into seething billows, like the 

 storms of an Italian lake, that we would 

 provide our haven of refuge. I would 

 not make a single garden, which was 

 worth seeing, into " a place of selfish 

 solitude." There is rarely need to ask 

 the question now, 



" Why should not these great squires 

 Give up their parks some dozen times a year, 

 And let the people breathe ? " 



As a rule, where decent behaviour 

 can be assured, the most attractive of 

 our English homes are open to the pub- 

 lic. At frequent intervals, the true 

 gardener is never more happy than 

 when he has the time for converse with 

 those who can appreciate his work. 

 What I mean is that all gardens should 

 be secluded from supervision, and I 

 think that even of show days there 

 should be some small sanctuary unpol- 

 luted by the bag of the sandwich, the 

 peel of the orange, and the cork of the 

 ginger-beer. 



THE MATTER OF NAMES. 



' T TJ OW many gardens we see that con. 

 r-i tain fine and rare varieties of 

 I J plants, from which the labels 

 have been lost. How often a 

 named collection of roses we shall say, 

 is planted with the correct labels duly 

 affixed, and after the growing season and 

 the erasing effects of the winter, the 

 labels which came from the nursery, 

 convey no more meaning to the planter 

 than the Egyptian hieroglyphics do to 

 the ordinary scholar. You say, " The 

 nurseryman should supply more lasting 

 labels," but when you consider the short 

 and busy season that is allotted to the 



nurseryman to get his orders dug and 

 packed, it is obvious that he must use 

 labels that are most quickly and con- 

 veniently written, and for this reason a 

 pine label is written with pencil and 

 wired to one of the branches. 



The experienced nurseryman distin- 

 guishes different varieties of fruit and 

 shrubbery by their growth, and to the 

 experienced florist the leaves, habit, 

 etc., of most roses, geraniums, fuchsias 

 and countless other plants, silently pro- 

 claim the names of the particular varie- 

 ties. It requires years of experience to 

 become thus proficient in names, and it 



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