MARCH 259 



Scarce a bud does to him take- 

 Barren for the future's sake, 

 Well content to none possess ; 

 And sweet Violets faithfulness 

 And white Snowdrops innocence 

 Are in death his recompense ; 

 And these darlings of the year 

 Strew rude Winter's sepulchre. 



March 20th. Of all the many catalogues I receive, 

 none, I think, are produced with anything like the 

 attractive intelligence of the one sent out by Messrs. 

 Ware, of Tottenham. This year one is tempted to say, 

 from the pretty European-Japanese drawing on the cover, 

 that Nature made a mistake in not giving us sometimes 

 an all-over pink sky instead of a blue! The soil at 

 Tottenham is very heavy, and plants that flourish 

 admirably there, from my experience, unfortunately decline 

 altogether to grow when removed to a purer air and a 

 lighter soil. I am sure that all amateurs who are in- 

 terested in the rarer varieties of hardy and half-hardy 

 plants had far better try and raise them themselves from 

 seed. But a visit to Messrs. Ware's garden near London, 

 as well as constantly going to Kew, will show amateurs 

 what can be done. The old-fashioned idea that a garden 

 meant a place of quiet and repose is not the proper 

 mental attitude for suburban plant-cultivators. The 

 drawings in the catalogue are excellent, though they 

 perhaps rather represent the cultivator's expectations 

 than the truth. Still, it is well to have high ideals even 

 in annuals and biennials. To return to my catalogue 

 no one can give time and study to it without being 

 the wiser. 



In spite of all my resolutions to stay at home, I have 

 a very great longing to go once more to the ' Riviera,' 

 and see some of the really good gardens which have 

 grown up since my time, especially that of ' La Mortola, 



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