: .i:.;:, :; MY SHRUBS 



equals. One hates the pruning knife, yet it has to be used, and 

 if used at the right time (after flowering as a rule) no great harm 

 is done. I can seldom point to " specimens," yet specimens 

 occasionally occur here of precious things whose adult size permits 

 them to reach perfection without hindrance ; and, happily, among 

 these may be seen my favourite plant, Rhododendron campylo- 

 carpum, a fine, well-favoured piece, seven feet high. 



Here, on our limestone crags, rhododendrons and American 

 plants in general are a test by which you may separate real gar- 

 deners from those who merely profess and call themselves such. 

 There are, for instance, women in this locality who pass for dis- 

 tinguished horticulturalists, yet exhibit neither rhododendron nor 

 azalea in all their glades. If cross-examined, they answer, readily 

 enough, that limestone is death to these fine things, and that 

 they are therefore impossible. Yet these women, who would 

 shudder at the thought of a ten-pound note for a peat-bed, will 

 spend twice that amount on a hat. A glimpse of the glories of 

 the rhododendron race is as nothing to them against a yard of 

 ribbon and half a dead bird, or a stick of asparagus, perched above 

 their fair brows. They are good and gracious creatures, success- 

 ful mothers and wives, but they are not gardeners at all, and must 

 neither claim nor be granted that distinction. Peat, then, we need 

 here, but into no limestone graves are we to thrust it, as I have 

 done to my cost. The peat should be heaped above the limestone, 

 so that your rhododendrons, azaleas and the rest have their roots 

 safe out of the reach of the nether fires. Build your peat in islands 

 rising full three feet above the stormy seas of lime, that autumnal 

 rains set flowing, and all should be well. In my experience few 

 really choice shrubs have much use for lime save the roses. Many 



