MY SHRUBS 31 
from the stem and from every joint and corner where the possi- 
bility of a bloom exists. The foliage, too, is very handsome and 
the leaves are the last to fall in autumn. It has never fruited here. 
The tiny Chiogenes serpyllifolia, the creeping Snowberry from 
North America, did well in a boggy pocket, set its little fruits and 
seemed at home; but it was smothered by coarser things and 
forgotten, and now it has disappeared. It is a good and dainty 
scrap, and easy enough in wet peat. 
Celastrus scandens is an old favourite—a tremendous climber 
from North America—whose orange-coloured berries and autumn 
tints are very effective. It needs to be kept in bounds, and is 
very greedy and pushing underground as well as overhead. 
With Citrus I have not succeeded out of doors, save partially 
in the case of the deciduous C. trifoliata from Japan. This 
thorny customer, though it flowers freely, with large, lax, snow- 
white blossoms that come before the triple leaves, has not set fruit 
as yet. It would probably add little to the joy of my dessert if it 
did, though you who have seen and grown the oranges, will perhaps 
say that grapes are sour. 
Clematis would need a booklet by itself. The word is Klema, 
a vine, and a few members of the genus are here, notably C. 
indwisa lobata, a beautiful creamy-white flowered species from 
New Zealand. It is tender, and shares an Archangel mat with 
Lonicera Hildebrandti and Ruscus androgynus when frost falls and 
the east wind blows. Here, too, are C. virginica, C’. lanuginosa, 
C. graveolens—a pretty yellow species from Chinese Tartary— 
C. montana rubens, absurdly over-rated, C’. vitalba, in the arms of 
a yew tree, and one or two of the shrubby species. But I am not 
very fond of the race, though C. cirrhosa I appreciate, when its 
