^ The Scented Qarden fj£ 



are serenely and happily at home, whereas the modern 

 upstarts would look even more ill at ease than before. 

 The old roses blend perfectly not only with each other 

 but with other flowers, even the humblest, but the 

 modern roses do not blend even with each other. On 

 the show table, however, the modern roses reign supreme. 

 Those serried ranks of hybrid teas give one the impression 

 that not only are they at home at a show, but that they 

 enjoy it. I am always struck with the fact that their 

 colours are so curiously like the more expensive materials 

 displayed in the shop windows. And the leaves (and even 

 the thorns) of many of the modern varieties look as though 

 they had been rationed. There is always just enough and 

 not a leaf nor a thorn to spare. What a contrast to the 

 abundant healthy foliage (and the thorns !) of the old 

 roses. No, those of us who love the old roses are not 

 blind, nor do we suffer from the hallucination that 

 modern roses are scentless. We see quite clearly that they 

 are beautiful, but somehow their beauty fails to touch 

 our hearts. The perfume of the scented varieties is sweet, 

 but it is not the incomparable fragrance of the old roses. 

 At most of the shows you will find one small table devoted 

 to the old roses. They look like dowerless queens and 

 portionless princesses flung into a wilderness. When I see 

 them I am seized with an almost irresistible desire to 

 gather them all up and take them away. They look so 

 pitiful. The few one sees at the shows are but a small 

 remnant of the ancient royal tribes. If you do not grow 

 the old roses, look at their beauty as depicted in the 

 paintings of the old Dutch flower painters ; or look at 

 those glorious roses portrayed in the three great rose 

 books of a century ago — Redoute, Andrews and Miss 

 106 



