The Ivy, and its Uses in Parisian Gardens. 133 



In nearly every courtyard in Paris the Ivy is tastefully used. I 

 do not think I ever saw the scarlet geranium to greater advantage 

 than in deep long boxes placed against a wall densely covered with 

 Ivy, and that planted also along their front edges, so as to hang down 

 and cover the face of the boxes. Placed thus between two sheets of 

 deepest green, our old friend the scarlet geraniuna looked particularly 

 happy, and this is only one trifling instance of the capital eifect of 

 the Ivy in improving the effect of summer flowers. One of the 

 best known of the floating baths on the Seine has a sort of open 

 air waiting-room immediately outside its entrance — a space made 

 by planks, and communicating with the quay by a gangway. On 

 this space there are seats placed around, on which in summer people 

 may sit and wait for their turn if so disposed, while the whole is 

 elegantly overbowered with Ivy, looking as much at home as if the 

 river was not gurgling rapidly beneath. This was secured by placing 

 deep boxes filled with very rich light soil here and there on the 

 bare space ; then planting the Ivy at the ends of each box, devoting 

 the remainder of the space in each box to flowers, keeping the soil 

 well watered, and training the shoots of the Ivy to a neat light 

 trellis overhead. In the garden of the Exposition a pretty circular 

 bower was shown perfectly covered with Ivy, the whole springing 

 from a tub. Imagine an immense green umbrella with the handle 

 inserted in a tub of good soil, boards placed over this tub, so as to 

 make a circular seat of it, and you will understand it in a moment. 

 That and the like could of course be readily made on a roof, wide 

 balcony, or any such position. One sunny early summer day, when 

 the Ivy was in its youthful green, I met with a shallow bower 

 made of it that pleased me very much. It was simply a great 

 erect shell of Ivy not more than five or six feet deep, so 

 that the sun could freshen the inside into as deep a verdure as 

 the outer surface. It may be used with the best taste in the dry 

 air of a room. I once saw it growing inside the window of a wine- 

 shop in an obscure part of Paris, and on going in found it was 

 planted in a rough box against the wall, had crept up it, and was 

 going about apparently as carelessly as if in a wood. If you 



