MY SHRUBS 19 
subjects. They are sent to us in autumn—often from a cold house 
—and we are apt to drag them from their pots and thrust them out, 
all unprepared, to face the worst weather that we know. Rather 
let us wait for April, then tenderly introduce them to pleasant 
nooks, and encourage them to make some useful growth before 
the period of penance and privation begins. Now, in January, I 
have a dozen fine things waiting in a cool house for spring to 
come, and they will all at least have one summer of glorious life 
to stretch their roots and hopefully face the open air of England. 
The quaint Barnadesia seems to be out of cultivation, for I 
never hear of it; but Baueria rubioides can be secured, and this 
good Australian from New South Wales, though it failed me in 
the open, now prospers against a warm wall. The pink flowers, 
like a minute Kalmia, are freely displayed in summer. Barosma 
dioica, from the Cape, made no long stay, and possibly others of 
this heath-like family are hardier. For Benthamia fragifera I lack 
room, but fine specimens of this splendid dog-wood, from Nepaul, 
flower and fruit handsomely round about. 
Berberidopsis corallina is a plant for which I entertain great 
regard. ‘This scandent evergreen Chilian has climbed twenty feet 
on an east wall, and its clusters of bright crimson blossoms in 
July are always greeted with applause. 
Of the hosts of the barberries, a splendid new-comer is Berberis 
Bealii, whose lax, lily-of-the-valley-scented tresses open in early 
spring. A matured plant is distinguished by its immense and 
handsome foliage as well as the pale yellow flowers. I have, 
too, a fine piece of the old B. japonica, and the glaucous leaves of 
B. trifoliata look well on the rockery. For beauty of habit no 
shrub beats a specimen of B. stenophylla ; Fortune’s berberis is 
