AN ISLAND GARDEN 53 



long ago, but which used to be a glory to the 

 town in which it grew. It is a hardy Rose also, 

 in color so darkly red as to be almost black, a 

 warm red, less crimson than scarlet, glowing with 

 a kind of smouldering splendor, with only two 

 rows of petals round a centre of richest gold. 

 At the end of this bed is a Water Hyacinth float- 

 ing in its tub, and near it, in another tub, a large 

 pink Water Lily, kept over from last summer in 

 a frost-proof cellar, is sending up the loveliest 

 leaves, touched with so sweet a crimson as to be 

 almost as delightful as the blossoms themselves. 

 All the rest of this day was spent in transplanting 

 Asters from boxes into the beds all over the gar- 

 den, edging nearly every bed with them, so that 

 when the fleeting glory of Poppies and other ear- 

 lier annuals is gone there will still be beautiful 

 color to gladden our eyes late in the summer, 

 quite into the autumn days. 



In the afternoon I had all the many boxes of 

 Sweet Peas brought to the piazza to be ready for 

 transplanting, but remembering the sparrows, I 

 covered each box carefully with mosquito netting 

 before leaving them for the night. 



1 4th. Sunday. A storm of wild wind and 

 flooding rain, the storm the loons predicted ! At 

 breakfast my gardening brother said, " Well, my 

 sweet peas are all gone ! " " Oh," I cried in 

 the greatest sympathy, " what has happened to 

 them ? " for he had planted six pounds or more, 

 and they had come up finely. " Sparrows," was 

 his laconic reply. I flew to my boxes on the 

 piazza : they were safe, only through a tiny crack 



