ON THE DRAPERY OF COTTAGES AND GARDENS. 89 



But enough, of that. You do not need any arguments to prove 

 that grace is a quality as positive as electro-magnetism. Would 

 that you could span the world with it as quickly as Mr. Morse with 

 his telegraph. To come to the point, we want to talk a little with 

 you about what we call the drapery of cottages and gardens ; about 

 those beautiful vines, and climbers, and creepers, which nature made 

 on purpose to cover up every thing ugly, and to heighten the charm 

 of every thing pretty and picturesque. In short, we want your aid 

 and assistance in dressing, embellishing, and decorating, not for a 

 single holiday, fair, or festival, but for years and for ever, the out- 

 sides of our simple cottages, and country homes ; wreathing them 

 about with such perennial festoons of verdure, and starring them 

 over with such bouquets of delicious odor, that your husbands and 

 brothers would no more think of giving up such houses, than they 

 would of abandoning you (as that beggarly Greek, Theseus, did the 

 lovely Ariadne) to the misery of solitude on a desolate island. 



And what a difference a little of this kind of rural drapery, 

 tastefully arranged, makes in the aspect of a cottage or farm house 

 in the country ! At the end of the village, for instance, is that old- 

 fashioned stone house, which was the homestead of Tim Steady. 

 First and last, that family lived there two generations ; and every 

 thing about them had a look of some comfort. But with the ex- 

 ception of a coat of paint, which the house got once in ten years, 

 nothing was ever done to give the place the least appearance of 

 taste. An old, half decayed ash-tree stood near the south door, and 

 a few decrepit and worn-out apple-trees behind the house. But 

 there was not a lilac bush, nor a syringo, not a rose-bush nor a honey- 

 suckle about the whole premises. You would never suppose that 

 a spark of affection for nature, or a gleam of feeling for grace or 

 beauty, in any shape, ever dawned within or around the house. 



Well, five years ago the place was put up for sale. There were 

 some things to recommend it. There was a " good well of water ;" 

 the house was in excellent repair ; and the location was not a bad 

 one. But, though many went to see it, and " liked the place toler- 

 ably well," yet there seemed to be a want of heart about it, that 

 made it unattractive, and prevented people from buying it. 



It was a good while in the market ; but at last it fell into the 



