128 THE JOY OF GARDENS 



arranged the closing scene. In the weeks that have gone 

 the little drama has played through several acts, grant- 

 ing surprises, undreamed of at night, which burst upon 

 the eyes with the dew of early day. 



As golden-skirted dancers awaiting a signal appear in 

 groups, bowing sweetly at the word, the long-stemmed, 

 star-eyed blossoms sway in midsummer zephyrs and dis- 

 play their graces. All have an ancestry honored in old 

 gardens, and inherit a character turning its back on dis- 

 appointments. Who has ever put in the seed of calliop- 

 sis, well-beloved black-eyed Susan, and failed to find her 

 keeping the tryst in the harvest time"? The gold of wiz- 

 ards and necromancers was used to fashion her leaves, and 

 the richest bronze in all flowerdom adorns the center of 

 her disk. The coreopsis, "Golden Glory," is a sister plant 

 ever to be relied upon, and from heart to the tip of its 

 petals the most radiant sunshine. 



Every year, as soon as the reapers enter the oats in the 

 yellow fields, calliopsis and coreopsis have grown to luxu- 

 riant bushy heights, each tip bearing its flowers like a 

 Christmas tree with gilt stars. On the ground below, the 

 California poppies, eschscholtzia the "Golden West" 

 weave a tapestry of lovely color, a strain of June sun- 

 shine at break of day, stimulating to the senses and giving 

 silent promises of hope. Clouds of sorrow are banished 

 in the presence of these light-hearted notes of color which 

 have a psychic influence hard to understand, but so 



