HOURS IN OTHER GARDENS 



Shell pink bougainvillaeas clamber over trellises 

 vying with other vines luxuriant, brilliant, but alas! 

 to me nameless. From benches shaded by feathery 

 acacias one looks out on the Nile with its many islets 

 and feels the mysterious peace of old Egypt soothe his 

 restless New-World spirit. How can we be grateful 

 enough to the distinguished General who in the midst 

 of his heavy burdens, his grave problems, his signifi- 

 cant reforms, found time to conceive and carry out this 

 ideal garden? 



Quite another problem faced an English couple 

 bearing the prophetic name of Eden, who more than 

 twenty years ago set about to make a garden in Venice. 

 At that time no such thing existed in that city of the 

 sea. Does not the old proverb say, "Venezia, tomba 

 dei fiori?" 



But hidden away beyond the Redentore was found 

 a piece of land, four acres in extent; later two more 

 acres were added. It was once a monastery orchard, 

 later a gentleman's playground, but at this time in a 



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