WATER GARDENS 113 



an ideal water-side garden of the natural type. 

 It could only be called a garden in the strict sense 

 because the plants in it were not indigenous to the 

 spot, but had been placed there by human hands. 

 An alder or two grew out of the shelving bank, 

 with a clump of bright stemmed willows, golden 

 in winter, and further in a nut bush here and 

 there remained out of a thicket which had been 

 cut down. In and out amongst the rough hazel 

 stubs thousands of snowdrops pushed their way 

 in the early spring, keeping time with the catkins 

 swinging overhead. In March, to take the place 

 of the snowdrops came a crowd of lent-lilies, and 

 later on fritillaries, chequered and white, were 

 quite at home in the damp soil, which was often 

 enough flooded. At one time of year, in a bend 

 of the bank, and almost in the brook itself, a 

 stretch of marsh marigold shone, like burnished 

 gold, in the sunlight. At another it was a colony 

 of blue-eyed water forget-me-nots, or clusters of 

 pale yellow globe-flowers or scented meadow- 

 sweet, or the sword leaves and yellow flowers of 

 iris, that caught the eye. All was simple as well 

 could be; its charm lay in the congruity of the 

 planting. No exotic element disturbed the sense 

 of fitness, for nothing was there but the native 

 plants which might seem to have come at their 

 own sweet will. It was not quite the spot for 

 water lilies the flower without a peer for a water 

 garden though a pool might easily have been de- 

 vised ; but to my mind it was better as it was. The 

 capabilities, however, of such a spot are great ; but 

 it must happen to border on your garden. 

 H 



