THE TEA HOUSE IN THE GAKDEN 39 



Over there against the white paling fence stands 

 the stiff hollyhock nodding his satiny head to greet 

 the dainty heliotrope who glances coquettishly up 

 to meet his eye. Nearby is a dialetrea or bleeding 

 heart, the pet of the little ones, who pluck them to 

 form tiny boats with snow white sails to float down 

 the lily pond. Bursting into bloom behind the stiff 

 box border is the old-time "piny," sending bits of 

 color into the sober green. 



None of the old Colonial gardens were considered 

 complete without an ever varying assortment of 

 bloom. There were the Sweet Williams, Bouncing 

 Bet, and perky little Johnny-jump-up, sending 

 greetings to his comrades nearby. Flowers are 

 everywhere, they peer out at us from hidden cor- 

 ners, swing their heads in very ecstasy of enjoy- 

 ment of their being. 



Simplicity was the key-note in the construction 

 of those summer houses that came into existence 

 during the latter part of the seventeenth century. 

 They stand for the first type of garden furniture 

 made in our country, coming into vogue after the 

 close of the grim struggle for existence made by our 

 Puritan forbears. Then when the tide turned, and 

 money flowed into the colonies, houseowners had 



