OF FORMAL GARDENS 67 



Mijnheer, plainly a seafarer, had here found, in 

 the days gone by, a rest for the sole of his wan- 

 dering foot in the country which had given a royal 

 welcome to the sovereign of his fatherland, and 

 had fashioned a chosen plot after his own heart's 

 liking. A solitary man, to all seeming; for no 

 memory of him remained no child's child had 

 claimed heritage in the old homestead. Not even 

 the dim shadow of a name lingered to tell of that 

 long-past ownership. The place had passed to 

 strangers; yet the garden, almost untouched, had 

 lived on through the changes of generations, to 

 enshrine the work of hands long folded to their 

 rest. 



We are almost too ready in these days to lay 

 it down as an axiom that tall and wide box-edgings 

 harbour slugs and snails, and rob the soil of its 

 richness; and, on the other hand, to declare that 

 low and narrow ones are too formal to be tolerated. 

 All depends upon the environment. For when we 

 do come upon them, suitably placed, and guarding 

 a treasury of flowers, the first impression is one 

 of surprised satisfaction and pleasure, and, involun- 

 tarily, an expression of delight escapes from our 

 lips. Certainly a worse mistake might be made 

 than to lay out a narrow space of the kind as 

 an evergreen garden somewhat after the pattern 

 of this old Cornish paradise. A cosy sheltered 

 spot, warm and snug, shut in by green, clipped 

 hedges, with beds fringed with box and full of 

 flowers, would be, at any season, a well-frequented 

 loitering place in pleasure grounds, however 

 spacious in other directions. 



