augugt 



XXVIII 



The present craze for gardening, nurtured as it is upon 

 much delightful, and perhaps more insipid, 

 literature, is surely one of the most commend- 

 able of fashion's freaks. Long may it continue, and greatly 

 may it grow. Meanwhile, it is rather amusing to one who 

 melled in garden mould before some of the most eloquent 

 authorities on the craft were born, and who remembers 

 the first introduction to this country of herbs which are 

 now reckoned among the old-fashioned flowers — it is 

 rather amusing, I say, to be told as a novelty about some 

 quality in one of the real old favourites. On the other 

 hand, it sometimes happens that these experts are 

 unacquainted with the behaviour of certain plants with 

 which our grandmothers were quite familiar. One sees, 

 for instance, in many gardens at the present day, a plant 

 which twenty years ago was hardly to be found save in 

 cottage plots. This is a dittany (Dictamnus fraxineUa), 

 which our forefathers named the burning bush. An 

 unmeet name, one might suppose, to confer on a herb 

 which, though graceful, boasts none but modest hues, 

 and I have found that many who possess it are unaware 

 of the significance of the title. This becomes apparent 

 if, on some still, hot day, or, preferably, in the evening, 



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