16 OUR ROCK-GARDEN 



Boeotia and Philistia know it not. But to those 

 attuned the commonest weed is full of interest ; 

 science finds in it a wondrous organisation in its 

 adaptation to environment ; art sees in it beauty of 

 form and of colour ; legends, mayhap, enshrine it ; 

 while associations, historical or personal, may give 

 it an added value. These are not things that one 

 merely ticks off on a florist's list ; each has a pleasant 

 history attached to it, and recalls bygone days of 

 sunshine, or possibly reminds us of that valued com- 

 panionship that is now for ever lost to us. Thus 

 our noble plant of yellow iris is not only a delightful 

 thing in itself, but recalls to our mind many an 

 enjoyable ramble by the silvery Kennett and our 

 old home on its banks ; our grey tufts of thrift, or 

 sea-pink, that will in due course burst forth into 

 heads of crimson blossom, are not only a joy in 

 themselves but a sunny memory of the grand cliffs, 

 and the widespread blue of sea and sky, and all 

 that went to make the day we brought them away 

 one that yet lives pleasantly in our memory. Hence 

 our plants recall no less enjoyable rambles over 

 breezy commons, down verdant lanes with their 

 hedge-banks of ground ivy, violet, and strawberry, 

 through the woodland copses in search of the golden 

 daffodils, or amidst the far-stretching purple haze of 

 hyacinths in the forest glades. The enthusiast who 

 takes the train a few miles out into the country and 

 arms himself with a trowel, an old biscuit-box, or 



