THE JOYOUS ART OF GARDENING 



beauties which are bepraised in catalogues and earnestly rec- 

 ommended to him by his friends. 



"I'm so striking," urges the Crimson Rambler; "consider 

 how stunning a show on your fence I would make." "I know 

 it, my dear— annihilating," responds the gardener. "But 

 what about your foliage in the summer, and your habit of 

 ungainly sprawling? Little Wichuraiana is better for this 

 production; she doesn't go off in her looks the minute she's 

 finished blooming. Neither does Dorothy Perkins." 



"Nothing is lovelier in a garden than we are," plead the 

 Tea-Roses. 



"Too delicate," answers the gardener sadly. "If I were 

 far enough south, I'd have every one of you; but I can't have 

 straw jackets and burlap mufflers in the yard all winter. Be- 

 sides, who's to spray you and all that sort of thing? You 

 won't do." 



"What's the matter with us?" ask the Pansies. 



"Nothing, my dears, except that you have to be picked 

 every day; and if I'm away all summer, who's to do it?" 



"Everybody admires us and everybody plants us!" claim 

 the Paniculata Hydrangeas. 



"I don't," returns the gardener imperturbably. "You're 

 too big, you take up too much room, and you never know 

 when to drop your flowers. Go sit on a suburban lawn, if you 

 wish admiration." 



"And I," said the Halliana Honeysuckle — ^"I'm the most 

 capable of vines — any position, any capacity, and I have a 

 wonderful digestion." 



"I retain you only as 'understudy,' " promises the gardener. 

 "English Ivy and Euonymus are both better for the part; if 

 the work's too hard for either of them, I'll put you in. But 

 you know you can't hold on to your leaves all winter." 



40 



