THE CHARM OF GARDENS 



" juicy " with colour. Standard Roses, Sweet Williams, 

 Hollyhocks, patches of Violas, Red Hot Pokers, Japanese 

 Anemones, a hedge of Sweet Peas " all tip-toe for a 

 flight " as Keats has it, clumps of Dahlias just coming 

 out, with red pots on sticks to catch the earwigs ; an 

 old Lavender hedge, grey-green. A rain butt painted 

 green ; round a corner, three blue-coloured beehives ; 

 and all about, such flowers — I could not mention half 

 of them. Bushes of Phlox, for instance ; and great 

 brown-eyed Sunflowers cracked across with wealth of 

 seed ; and tall spikes of Larkspur like the summer 

 skies ; and Carnations couched in their grey grass or tied 

 to sticks. A worn brick pathway leading through it all. 



The tailor watched the effect on me anxiously. 



I stood with one hand on the gate and drank in the 

 beauty of it. Set, as the place was, in a bower of 

 orchards, it looked like a jewelled nest, a place out of a 

 fairy tale, everything complete. The diamond panes 

 of the windows with neat muslin curtains behind them, 

 with fine Geraniums in very red pots on the window- 

 sill, were like friendly eyes beaming pleasantly at the 

 passing world. To a tired traveller making his way 

 upon that road, such a sight would bring delight to 

 his eyes, and cause him, most certainly, to pause before 

 the glad garden. If he were a romantic man he would 

 take off his hat, as men do abroad to a wayside Calvary, 

 in honour of the peace that dwelt over all. 



Like a rich illuminated page the garden glowed 

 among the trees — like a jewel of many colours it shone 

 in its velvet nest. 



The tailor could restrain himself no longer. He said, 

 " As neat as anything you've seen, sir ? " 



" Perfect," said I. " As much as a man could want." 



He walked before me down the garden path and 

 called, " Rose," through the open door. 



46 



