GARDENS OF WELL-KNOWN PEOPLE 



door of a shell-colored cottage, and leaves you to return 

 upon itself into the green shade. 



Against the grayish-creamy cottage wall stand lordly 

 hollyhocks, and vines clamber gaily toward the second- 

 story windows. Cloisters, many-arched, of brick whose 

 pink glows through their whitewash, reach out into the 

 garden ; or, possibly, it is the garden that through them 

 attains the house. Climbing roses and clematis outline 

 these arches, while small, vivid blossoms crowd each 

 other in the narrow beds close to the house. Toward 

 the sea, from a terrace floored with brick and guarded 

 by a low -and very broad balustrade of stone slabs 

 on short brick pillars, the view lies open to the sky. 

 A lawn stretches down to a wattled fence, over which 

 crimson roses tumble, while above it clumps of lark- 

 spur raise their tall spikes, vying with the intense blue 

 of the bay. Where the dense tangle of the little wood 

 ends, other garden flowers grow in a charming, untram- 

 meled fashion, and an ancient carved marble bench or 

 two from Italy wait in an immortal calm for some 

 leisure-loving soul. Practically that is all there is to 

 the- garden, but it seems to be as big as the world, it 

 is so entirely sufficient, so wild and yet so petted, so 

 harmonious with the immensities of sea and sky that 

 wrap it round, so intimately connected with the house 

 to which it belongs. A flame of scarlet in the right 

 spot, a tree of noble form, a sense of gentle peace and 

 sure protection, the companionship of house and bosket, 



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