GARDENS NEAR THE SEA 



But the other side of the picture shows that the 

 Japanese have reduced their gardens to a point where 

 the American finds them more unique than decorative. 

 They have touched the opposite extreme. Their gar- 

 dens are invariably those of few flowers, sometimes 

 of one flower. No garden there is so small — and it 

 may be made on ten square feet of ground, or confined 

 to a window box — that it has not its enduring point 

 of interest, meaning infinitely more to its maker than 

 any flower. This may be a tiny pond, a rustic bridge, 

 a stone lantern, a few pebbles, a summer house, and 

 always the little evergreen trees. Flowers may be 

 there or not, according to the circumstances. The 

 question which arises is never how many flowers can 

 be planted, but which ones are best suited to the 

 garden. The Japanese select with great care a very 

 limited number of plants for even the most extensive 

 gardens. 



Last winter, at Christmas time, I stopped at a shop 

 in New York to buy a little arrangement of plants 

 that was in the window. A young Jap came forward 

 to attend to me. 



"Very pretty garden," he said; "the prettiest 

 garden of all." 



"Do you call it a garden?" I asked, from motives 

 of curiosity. 



"A real garden," he said. "See, a place to sit, 

 a place to walk and to think; sweet water, little tree — 

 a beautiful garden." 



I thought then of the impossibility of reproducing 

 an American garden in a little dish. 



[246] 



