THE CHARM OF GARDENS 



cut-glass decanters and a number of glasses which reflect 

 in the polished mahogany surface. Round the table 

 four gentlemen sit with white wigs and elegant lace falls 

 at their throats, and ruffles at their wrists. It is a hot 

 Summer afternoon, and so still that not a Rose leaf of 

 those spread on the lawn stirs. A large white sheet lies 

 on the lawn covered with thousands of rose petals left 

 to dry in the sun, and when they are dry, and have under- 

 gone a careful mixture with spices, and have herbs added 

 to them by the mistress of the house, they will be placed 

 in china bowls in all the rooms, and will give out a subtle 

 delicious odour. 



The man who is dreaming in his garden can see the four 

 gentlemen as plain as life raising their glasses and touch 

 them before drinking the silent toast. And it is difficult 

 to tell whether it is the gardener striking on his frames by 

 accident, or the chink of glasses that sounds so clearly 

 under the Acacia tree. 



Now, in another picture the garden holds, things are 

 somewhat altered. Instead of the big Tulip bed on the 

 lawn there are a number of small cut beds with long beds 

 behind them on either side of a new gravel walk. In- 

 stead of the older fashioned borders there are startling 

 colour schemes of carpet-bedding in which the flowers 

 are made to look more like coloured earths than any- 

 thing. In the long beds, instead of the profusion of 

 Hollyhocks, Sunflowers and bushes of Roses, a primness 

 reigns. A row of blue Lobelia backed by a row of white 

 Lobelia, then scarlet Geraniums, then Calceolarias, 

 then crimson Beet plants, every ten yards a Marguerite 

 Daisy sticks up out of the middle of the bed. Only one 

 rambling border remains, and that is hidden from the 

 view of the house windows, but can just be seen from the 

 seat under the Acacia tree. In it Phlox and Red-hot 

 Pokers, Asters, Anemonies, Moss Rose, and French 



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