86 OUR GARDENS 



use feathers, so highly prized as lining material by 

 the blue tit, the sparrow, the chaffinch, the chiffchaft', 

 the hedge accentor, the common wren, and many other 

 small birds. Nor do they use hair, which is in favour 

 with the blackcap, the siskin, the skylark, and others, 

 and they utterly neglect withered leaves, whereof the 

 dipper weaves so warm a tapestry. 



XIV 



More than half a century has run since Mr. William 

 Our Robinson hoisted the flag of revolt against 



Gardens fa^, tyranny thatheld mid- Victorian gardeners 

 in thrall. Happily, he has lived to see that tyranny 

 overthrown. It was no red revolution that he led ; it 

 was a restoration the recall of a banished dynasty 

 the repeal of edicts that had swept nearly all hardy 

 herbs into exile, and constrained the owners of every 

 demesne, from the palace to the parsonage, from the 

 castle terrace to the suburban fore court, to cram their 

 borders with confectionary of crude blue, flaming scarlet, 

 and glaring yellow. When Mr. Robinson first sounded 

 the point of war, the drawing-room carpet and bed- 

 room wall papers of a large country house were far 

 more interesting subjects of contemplation than its 

 parterres, inasmuch as some play of individual taste 

 was allowed indoors, but the flower garden had been 

 tilled and drilled to uniformity with those in all parts 

 of the realm. All mystery had been expelled: no 

 refreshing surprise awaited the visitor to a neighbour's 

 grounds, unless by chance a few old favourites were 



