The Rose Garden 295 



garden and the dooryard. Who that has a little strip of land to spare 

 would forego the superlative white, pink, and deep velvety crimson 

 beauty of Frau Karl Drusehki, Baroness Rothschild and Prince 

 Camille de Rohan? Soft-petalled, pink damask roses that fill 

 the old-fashioned garden with a delicious attar scent and no 

 modern descendants have yet surpassed these ancient favorites 

 snowballs of Mme. Plantier, and French roses to dry for the 

 potpourri jar, clouds of diminutive polyantha roses, pillar roses, 

 bushes and trailers, intoxicate the senses with their varied love- 

 liness in "June, dear June; now God be praised for June!" 



In the South and in California tea roses abound in every 

 favoured garden for many months, to the envy of rose lovers in 

 colder climes, who are denied the charms of this lovely class 

 except in hothouses. Occasionally an enthusiast in the North 

 risks planting teas in the open, covers the plants completely in 

 winter, coddles and coaxes them, only to find many of his 

 precious pets lifeless after the ice thaws. But within a few years 

 a wonderful new race of roses has been developed : roses with the 

 hardiness of the hybrid perpetuals, the chaste form and the delicate, 

 refined fragrance of teas, and, above all, their habit of blooming 

 freely throughout the summer and autumn. Now, indeed, are 

 rose gardens well worth while. Now is the long season of the rosa- 

 rian's discontent made glorious with these peerless roses. Of the 

 hundred and fifty varieties rapidly given by the hybridisers to a 

 clamouring, grateful public, perhaps only a tenth are of permanent 

 value to northern growers, but the chosen are roses of such sur- 

 passing loveliness that many an amateur fills his garden with them 

 alone. Killarney's long-pointed, perfect pink buds that slowly 

 expand and last for days indoors without dropping a petal on the 

 mahogany that mirrors their satisfying beauty; Caroline Testout, 



