154 THE JOY OF GARDENS 



the blue lobelia never shone so blue in June as it does 

 now, when it reaches an intensity in its color as strong as 

 the temper of the red that flames in the zinnias and of the 

 ever-faithful salvia. The touch of adversity in the frost 

 in the air puts them on their mettle, and they will make 

 the most of the days before them. 



The mounds of foliage plants should have reached 

 their prime, the calladiums attained their maximum 

 size, the castor beans grown to trees, the cannas put forth 

 their most luxuriant growth, and the seed grasses, waving 

 gracefully between, be loaded with seeds. It is a proving 

 of the early planning, and things come to the test, just 

 as the mountain ash hangs out its bunches of orange 

 berries, the rugosa roses fatten their brilliant fruits, and 

 Japanese quinces hang heavy in the hedges. 



The hydrangea paniculata grandiflora a name as 

 splendid as the shrub itself is conspicuous in suburban 

 parks. Out comes the garden notebook, and, if none 

 graces our premises, down goes the resolve to have it. 

 The rose of Sharon of the Althsea kindred has climbed 

 to successes unheard of, a flower for every twig, and 

 wreaths of blossoms and clean foliage a flower miracle 

 on the lawn as striking in its way as the hydrangea. 

 It hints of mallow and hollyhock and of the cottage amid 

 meadows. 



It is a mistake to imagine that because the sun is turn- 

 ing southward all is at an end, and that the woods and 



