A GARDEN IN VENICE 



Madame Laurette Messimy, Comtesse Riza du 

 Pare, Caroline Testout, Madame Falcot, and the 

 old Malmaison, and that sweetest of roses, La 

 France, which, seeming to the climate born, give us 

 flowers in such rich masses that we rather give up 

 trying to grow the more fickle or contradictory, 

 beautiful as they may be. Madame Hoste is 

 unkind, but I hope to overcome her coyness. La 

 Marque, Devoniensis, and Niphetos will have 

 none of us. I am sorry, but as from April gene- 

 rally to Christmas, and sometimes to the Russian 

 New Year's Day, we can cut from thousands of 

 plants of hundreds of varieties that thrive with 

 us, we may well be and are content. 



Standard, pillar, and climbing roses revel in 

 Venice air. I once counted a thousand blooms 

 on a Marechal Niel that, grafted on a Banksia, 

 covered an old cow-house. Alas, the effort was 

 too much for the tree, and it died. The Marshal 

 we find capricious, he will not grow on his own 

 roots, and is rather difficult to please as to place. 

 Well suited in this respect he is Napoleonic. 



Most useful roses for pillars or post, for arbour 



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