OUR GRANDMOTHER'S GARDENS 







though large enough to make a home for a goodly 

 family. 



The hedges of Coldstream are perhaps its greatest 

 beauty. They are of various kinds, but unusually fine 

 of growth and shape. Ancient box, smelling good in 

 the hot sun, and smooth and solid as though carved 

 out of blocks; cedar and oleander, mock-orange and 

 arbor- vitae, twice as high as a man's head; cherokee 

 rose, evergreen trimmed into immense arches, and 

 holly. These hedges encircle the whole garden, and 

 divide it furthermore into various sections, each given 

 over to special loveliness or important uses. Thus the 

 rose-garden, the tea-house, the children's playground, 

 are all magnificently framed. But the preponderant 

 beauty of the hedges does not prevent the rest of the 

 garden from being wonderful. It blooms the whole 

 year round. In January come the violets, white and 

 purple and fragrant, the hyacinths and crocuses, and 

 little flowers with lost names, rarer nowadays than those 

 called rare. February brings the yellow jasmine that 

 flowers before it leaves, and in the sun-warmed corners 

 tulips and narcissi shake out perfume on every wander- 

 ing breeze. The plum blossoms wreathe their snow 

 upon the boughs, the Chinese almonds grow subtly 

 sweet and lovely, while before the month has fairly 

 merged into March, the gay company of daffodils are 

 nodding in the wind and the dogwood flings wide its 

 snowy banners. With March forsythia weaves a mist of 



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