294 MY FARM. 



Or, it is some larger group with which we deal 

 half up the hill-side, screening some ragged nursery 

 of rocks and a tall Lombardy-poplar lifts from its 

 centre, while shining, yellowish Beeches group around 

 it crowding it, forcing all its leafy vigor (just where 

 we wish it) into the topmost shoots ; and amid the 

 Beeches are dark spots of young Hemlocks as if the 

 shadow of a cloud lay just there, and the sun shone 

 on all the rest ; and among the Hemlocks, and reach- 

 ing in jagged bays above and below them are Sumacs 

 (so beautiful, and yet so scorned) lifting out from all 

 the tossing sea of leaves, their solid flame-jets of fiery 

 crimson berries. Skirting these, and shining under 

 the dip of a Willow, are the glossy Kalmias which, at 

 midsummer, were a sheet of blossoms ; and the hem 

 of the group is stitched in at last with purple Phloxes 

 and gorgeous Golden-rod. 



I know no limit indeed to the combinations which 

 a man may not affect who has an eye for color, and a 

 heart for the light labor of the culture. There is, 

 unfortunately, a certain stereotyped way of limiting 

 these shrubberies to a few graceful exotics, which, 

 of course, the gardeners commend, and of rating 

 the value of foliage by its cost in the nursery. It is 

 but a narrow and ungrateful way of dealing with 

 the bounties of Providence. It may accomplish un- 

 der great care, very effective results ; but they wiU 



