Rose 
Madame 
Plantier and 
division between one part of the garden and another. They 
will require little or no support beyond a preliminary stake 
about four feet high, and require no pruning whatever. A 
Rose judicious amount of tying down to a rail running along from 
Hedges 
one stake to another will help them, and prevent their injuring 
each other’s shoots when blown about in a wind, for they are 
very, in fact horribly, thorny, like all the Rugosas. 
When on the subject of thorns it may not come amiss to 
state that the old saw or proverb, “No rose without a thorn,” 
is no longer true, for I know of one at least that is perfectly 
and obligingly thornless—Madame Planter. I am the happy 
possessor of a large bush about ten years old—not very enormous, 
for it is not a climber. It is about seven feet high and twenty- 
eight feet round, and has been allowed to have its own way, and 
as the innumerable blooms expand in small clusters, the thin 
upstanding stems arch over and form sprays of a pure whiteness 
unsurpassed. When the flowering is over, the new growth will 
spring from the ground, and the old wood forms the natural 
support for the following year. The scent is as delicious as any 
Rose in the garden, and is like the clean scent of rose-water. 
Madame Planter, too, will form a low and thick hedge in 
time, and will, when in full bloom, be a mass of white on both 
sides. In gardens where there exists an evergreen division 
between the useful vegetables and the more pleasant and 
interesting places, the addition of suitable climbing Roses would 
sometimes be a valuable improvement. It is true that a really 
old and well-clipped Yew hedge gives a sense of repose, and 
requires no adornment whatever, and it is best left to its own 
serene quiet beauty, but I have seen a Holly hedge wreathed 
with Dundee Rambler, whose slender branches clung to and 
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