The Rock Garden 103 



plants and then reconcile it with the loveliest pictorial effect 

 possible. The thoughtful gardener will never pile one stone upon 

 another without a sufficient stratum of earth in the sandwich to 

 nourish a stonecrop, creeping phlox, or hardy candytuft (Iberis) 

 that hangs its snow-laden stems well over rocky ledges. He will 

 see that every rock not only rests in deep good soil and within a 

 generous area of it, but that a pocket of loam made rich, light and 

 cool with decayed vegetable matter not manure is provided 

 wherever a plant is to be set out. Rhododendrons, laurel, azaleas 

 and orchids delight in a cool, moist, peaty soil, and so do most 

 ferns and lilies; primroses want leaf-mould; true alpines crave 

 crushed rock or gravel mixed with it; the cross-bearing tribe and 

 composites make the most of any good loamy soil, for they are not 

 fastidious; hardy cacti, sedums, mossy and starry saxifrages, live 

 forever and other more or less succulent plants, whose deep roots 

 enable them to endure the sunniest situations, may be given a 

 rather sandy soil without offence. Stagnant moisture about its 

 roots no plant will endure, but then the very nature of a rock garden 

 usually insures good drainage. Not even a skunk cabbage will 

 thrive in sour soil. Sweetness and light are more essential in a 

 garden than in Matthew Arnold's essays. 



Clinkers, shells, masses of scoriae and masonry in a rockery 

 could be tolerated only where the insensate owner would feel equal 

 satisfaction in seeing a picket fence around it. In no other part of 

 the home grounds, perhaps, is the suggestion of artificiality to be 

 more studiously avoided. Walls, fences, lanterns, benches and 

 other man-made objects should not be seen from it. Even a 

 macadam road through it, if necessary, is deplorable. A formal 

 path quite as effectually spoils a scene which should be entirely 

 naturalistic, simple and picturesque. Flat, irregular stepping- 



