THE LURE OF THE GARDEN 



stepson, Eugene de Beauharnais, carried out the em- 

 peror's plans when affairs of moment called the latter 

 away. These gardens stretch along the water's edge 

 in half-tropic loveliness, the paths shaded by lindens, 

 mimosas, orange- and lemon- and magnolia-trees, with 

 palms and palmettos boldly placed. There is a charm- 

 ing garden cafe with music every afternoon, there are 

 formal flower beds and green grass, and, though small, 

 the place is very effective. But the flower spot of 

 Venice is the Eden Garden, where each morning the 

 boats come to the water-gate for their day's supply to 

 be sold in the piazzas and calles. The flowers are 

 unbelievable ; solid squares of bloom, sheets of color. 

 Surely such a mass of flowers was never collected in so 

 small a space elsewhere on earth. The roses, hanging 

 curtains, loads under which the bushes fairly stagger, 

 or standards cut back to bring a single marvelous 

 blossom to perfection. The perfume from the lily beds 

 makes the head swim, and the carnations crowd together 

 drunk with their own loveliness. 



There is many another public garden that might be 

 mentioned. The beautiful ones in Paris and at Ver- 

 sailles ; those in Berlin and Dresden, and many here in 

 our own country, though we have not yet attained the 

 perfection of those abroad, being naturally many years 

 behind the oldest and the finest. But these are enough 

 to show how deep is our debt to the early " physick 

 garden " of the Middle Ages, with its small collections 



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