The Happy Garden 



gladioli, campanulas, Canterbury bells, cranesbill, 

 iris, veronicas, and some grey foliage plants. 



In the spring, there are Darwin tulips and 

 daffodils and .anemones scattered here and there, 

 all down the length of the border to give colour, 

 and primroses and primulas grow in the grassy bank, 

 where the robins sometimes nest. Always, from 

 May on, the border is a triumphant mass of colour. 

 An arch of roses frames it as you approach from the 

 orchard, roses growing over to the little pergola, by 

 which the greatest wonders of the place are reached, 

 places like the sunk garden and the Alpine garden, 

 where the friendliest flowers grow and the earth 

 has taken form and become intimate. The her- 

 baceous borders are for decoration rather than for 

 friendship. They are bands and frames of colour, 

 put on as boldly and with as firm a hand as may 

 be. No one could take liberties with a herbaceous 

 border, nor could I ever breathe a word of confi- 

 dence to any flower in the rabble. Nearly all her- 

 baceous plants are great livers, loud voiced, lusty, 

 Rabelaisian, and they would shout with laughter at 

 me and my private thoughts ; not unkindly, but 

 it is always hard to think that laughter, whether 

 of flowers or men, is not unkind. 



The cherry trees are tender. In the spring, 

 when the frail snowy blossoms are hung out against 



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