August 31, 1892.] 



Garden and Forest. 



411 



novelty after another. I live near a "junction village," where 

 many meclianics and train-hands have their houses, and I am 

 very sure that tlie men of these families keep their eyes open 

 to the advent, in the cities whither they daily ply, of new 

 plants, odd or Ijcautiful, and secure specimens whenever the 

 price is within their means. So far as 1 can learn, very few of 

 these lovers of flowers huy through the mails or oljtain their 

 stock directly from commercial gardens or greenhouses. 

 They are all expert at " rooting slips," and know whence to 

 take them without disfiguring the stock-plant. With Begonias 

 they quite understand leaf-propagation, and are expert in a 

 rude way in the composition of potting-earth. The window- 

 pots are protected from the sun, and by sedulous care uneven- 

 ness of growth is obviated. But I notice that when one of 

 these flower-loving families becomes able to build a cottage of 

 its own, a corner bay-window is pretty sure to be provided for 

 in its plan. 



This love of flowers, of which I have been writing, seems 

 to have something communal in its nature or origin, and does 

 not in any notable degree extend far into the country round 

 about. Only a few farmers' wives seem to care much for, or 

 have any remarkable skill in, window or open-air floriculture. 

 The truth probably is, not that they do not like flowers, but 

 that they have much less time to attend to them. As for out- 

 of-door flower-gardens, loose cattle, pigs, dogs and fowls 

 make such a thing a matter of too strenuous policing to be 

 practicable. Indeed, these dangers greatly limit and discour- 

 age the establishment of good kitchen-gardens, which are 

 quite rare on the farms of interior New England. 



I happen to know, however, of a flower-garden, the existence 

 and success of which witnesses to the triumph which attends 

 upon stubborn perseverance. It is the work of a farmer's 

 wife and dairywoman who has her hands full of work and 

 whose butter brings the top of the market. Her husband's 

 farm borders on a cross-road with a narrow and not much-fre- 

 quented track. Like all other roads, however, it is laid out 

 three rods wide, leaving a broad grassy or weedy border. 

 Fences on farms are now a thing of the past in the section re- 

 ferred to, except for the enclosure of pastures ; and the road- 

 sides are either cultivated or grassed to the edge of the wheel- 

 track. In many places, at this time of the year, one may ride 

 considerable distances along roads where the hubs of the 

 wheels must brush the oats, rye or other grain in turning out 

 to pass another vehicle. One of these road-sides close by an 

 old homestead had thus been brought under cultivation in 

 Potatoes, and a strip near the buildings was taken by the 

 farmer's wife for a " posy garden." I have seen her working 

 in it a long summer evening until it had become too dark to 

 note the time by a watch. It is about one rod wide and five 

 or six rods long, and I think it would puzzle any one to name 

 any common flowering plant in cultivation that is not to be 

 found there. There is not much apparent order or system in 

 this garden, but it has become so famous that many driving 

 out from the village go out of the way to visit it ; and this inde- 

 fatigable woman is deriving quite a neat income from the 

 ■plants and flowers which she is called upon to supply for by- 

 passers. She says it pays her much better than the dairy, 

 which is the principal object of her daily care. It certainly 

 confirms the truth of the adage, that " where there is a will, 



there is a way." -r it zr i.- 



Newport, Vt. -'• -n. Hoskins. 



The Lakeside Pleasure-ground at Wakefield, 

 Massachusetts. 



WHEN casually discussing the relation of the various lakes 

 in the Boston metropolitan district to the question of 

 public pleasure-grounds, in my account of a bicycle trip to the 

 Waverley Oaks, I alluded to Lake Ouannapowit, in the town 

 of Wakefield, as one of the few examples of anything like an 

 adequate dealing with the opportunity presented. That it has 

 been done so satisfactorily in this case is mainly owing, I be- 

 lieve, to the public spirit of a wealthy citizen and to the for- 

 tunate location of an important county highway. The town of 

 Wakefield, formerly South Reading, was named in honor of 

 the late Cyrus Wakefield, the founder of the leading industry 

 of the place — the manufacture of rattan goods. Mr. Wakefield 

 did much to improve the town, then it adopted his name. He 

 gave it a large and costly town-hall, and was chiefly instru- 

 mental in laying out and improving one of the most charming 

 pieces of public ground possessed by a town of its size, num- 

 bering 6,982 inhabitants by the census of 1890. 



The main county highway from Boston to Lowell, by way 

 of JNtalden bridge, becomes in Wakefield, as in most of the 

 places through which it passes, the main street of the town. 



the most populous part of which is pleasantly situated between 

 two lakes, something like a mile apart ; Crystal Lake, the 

 smaller of these, lies to the southward of the village against 

 a pleasant range of rocky and wooded hills. It presents a 

 charming appearance from both the Boston and Maine Rail- 

 road and the main liighway ; the railway runs between the 

 lake and the street, which is considerably al.)ove the water- 

 level and couimantls some beautiful glimpses Ijetween the in- 

 tervening houses — a fact which it would be well to take advan- 

 tage of by providing an open space from which a view of the 

 water might always be obtained. A most attractive feature 

 of this lake is a pretty little rocky islet, covered with trees. 



Lake Ouannapowit lies at the other end of the village, and 

 the common is designed with reference to this fact. As it 

 approaches the lake. Main Street broadens considerably and 

 gives opportunity for the beginning of the public ground, 

 which takes the shape of a large triangle with its base on the 

 lake-shore. The first section is a wedge-shaped piece of 

 ground containing a few hundred square feet. This is walled 

 about with rough rock about eighteen inches high, I should 

 say, entirely mantled with a luxuriant growth of Japanese Am- 

 pelopsis. At the broad end, toward the lake, is a large rock- 

 rimmed basin, screened on the north by a high, irregular- 

 shaped wall of rough rock, rising to a height of perhaps four 

 or five yards. At the centre of this wall is a handsome Elm. 

 A rich and tangled growth of Bittersweet clambers over the 

 wall and up into the tree, thus uniting it with the structure of a 

 fountain, which, rising from the basin, sends a fine spray over 

 the adjacent grass and foliage, keeping it a rich full green. 

 The only questionable feature about this delightful bit of 

 ground is the formal flower-bed which occupies the centre of 

 the raised grass-plot within the triangle with some garish Ge- 

 raniums and foliage-plants — altogether too artificial in appear- 

 ance for the unconventional character of the design. A group 

 of flowering shrubbery would be better. 



Beyond the road which cuts off this triangle from the con- 

 tinuation of the public ground is the old-fasfiioned New Eng- 

 land Common, here a large grassy space widening out toward 

 the lake, tree-shaded, and bordered by a low fence of simple 

 design. This piece of ground could, in its simple dignity, 

 hardly be improved. The common, again, is separated from 

 the grounds bordering the lake by a street, upon which, facing 

 the town and cornering upon the lakeside grounds, is a large 

 and handsome new church of gray stone — a feature that 

 greatly helps the scene with its picturesquely rich and stately 

 architectural element. 



The grounds on the lake slope gently down from the street 

 to the shore. Very appropriately this area is simply a broad 

 stretch of lawn, with no trees to interrupt the view of the 

 water, to which it thus carries the eye by the pleasing transi- 

 tion of a broad swesp of greensward. Fortunately, the town 

 has had the good sense and good taste to remove a very ugly 

 brick fire-engine house that, until recently, stood here. An 

 ornate music-pavilion is now the only structure upon the 

 grounds ; it offers no obstruction to the view, which it only 

 serves to accent. 



This attractive scene gives Wakefield its most distinctive 

 character. The lake, thus cherished and beautified, plays an 

 unusually important part in the life of the place. There is 

 bathing in its waters ; boating, canoeing and sailing on its sur- 

 face in the summer ; skating and ice-boating in the winter, 

 besides band concerts, promenading and driving on its shores. 



The view up the lake deserves rank among the notable 

 park scenes in the country. There is a vista of something 

 like two miles of sparkling blue water to the northward, with 

 a shore-line just irregular enough to prevent monotony, but 

 without diminishing the effect of largeness — the water-area 

 showing for the full value of its length and breadth. White- 

 sailed yachts skim like swallows over the surface, and row- 

 boats and canoes glide gracefully about. 



Beyond the end of the lake, on the upland to the left, cluster 

 the roofs and spires of Reading, the parent town of Wakefield, 

 and, seemingly from the midst of the place, rises a great water- 

 tower of a decided architectural character. In the distance, 

 from across the water, its high and massive shaft with a finely 

 proportioned roof, tapering like that of a mediaeval turret, say 

 at Nuremberg, is most impressive, and dominates the sur- 

 rounding edifices of the town with something of the grace 

 and majesty of a great cathedral tower in an Old World city. 



The main street, or county road, on its way northward to 

 Reading, turns to the right and follows the easterly shore of 

 the lake. Between the street and the water the lawn-like 

 character of the grounds continues for some distance, giving 

 to the margin of the water a refined touch in keeping with its 

 surroundings. There is, however, too great a uniformity in 



