COMPOSITAE 125 



known border Asters — especially the littler ones, and 

 things like ereicoeides and dumosus and their varieties — 

 they need hardly be recommended. 



My own joy among the larger Asters is acris, with its 

 fleecy cloud-masses of soft purple, lying across the upper 

 garden like a mist of colour through late summer and 

 autumn. Acris I remember in the south of France, a 

 wiry-leaved dry-ground plant, with abundance of tiny 

 ragged flowers, inexpressibly airy and delightful. In 

 cultivation it never gets coarse, but blossoms with wild 

 generosity, and divides endlessly in spring. I have just 

 got a roseus and an alhu^ variety — but without any hope 

 that they can possibly surpass, or even equal, the fairy- 

 like type. Aster Linosyris is a graceful native, dis- 

 tinguished by abundant yellow flowers, from which there 

 is now a hybrid Asterolinosyris Willmottiae, which I have 

 hastened to procure, feeling hopeful that so high and 

 august a name would not be lavished on an undeserving 

 plant (yet what of Iris willmottiana and Lilium Bur- 

 banki ?). Aster sibiricus I have had for years, without 

 ever having much affection for ; so far I have found him 

 a medium-sized plant, but a rampant spreader, with large 

 but rather ragged and ineffective deep-lilac flowers. 



After Aster may come their miniatures the Daisies. 

 The Swiss giant Daisy, Bellidiastruvi Michelii, I have 

 grown and lost and never replaced. It is a huge version 

 of the common Daisy, and not, I thought, worth any 

 extravagant fuss. Then there is the so-called blue 

 Morocco-Daisy, like our own, but more graceful, and 

 with flowers in varying shades of very pale blue. This 

 lovely little creature is unmistakably half-hardy here — 

 at least has always proved so in all the positions we have 

 ever tried for it, though in light, hot soils in southern 

 gardens it may be more persevering. Bellis sylvestris I 

 have doubts of. Under this name I have grown on from 



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