A GARDEN IN VENICE 



like ourselves who prefer beauty to rarity. Many 

 rare things are also beautiful, but there are so 

 many that are beautiful and not rare, that where 

 the power of effort and the space disposable is 

 not unlimited, it is wise to get the best one can 

 with the means one has. We have then hundreds 

 of pot plants, survivals of the fittest, and our 

 entrance court where they stand in summer is 

 gay and much admired. 



It has a door with steps running in from 

 the water and a land entry parallel, with steps 

 running in the counter sense out to our bridge 

 over the canal. At the sides are arranged our 

 pots, or what I call our Italian garden. At the 

 corner between the land stair and the gardener's 

 cottage that is clad with roses and wistaria, is a 

 large may tree whose blossom is brilliant red, 

 and a tamarisk with long feathery shoots that 

 hang pendent over the wall till they almost touch 

 the water. Next these and around them are 

 palms, and then jessamines and ivy-leaved gera- 

 niums trained in pyramids. Groups of arum 

 lilies and other high growing things with lower 

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