A GARDEN NOTE-BOOK 



Under a drooping apple bough I sit at twilight 

 of the last day of May. Before me is a plant 

 grouping of much variety and charm, and the air 

 is filled with the fragrance of lilac and of lily- 

 of-the-valley. The lilacs, now some twelve feet 

 high, are in waves and billows of white, mauve, 

 and purple bloom. Delicate whitish Persian lilacs 

 are interspersed with those of French descent; the 

 effect is a sumptuousness of bloom which can- 

 not be surpassed. In what might be called a bay 

 in these tall lilacs — a space some twelve feet 

 wide and running back into the tall, blooming 

 trees for, say, six feet — this arrangement occurs. 

 Against the tall lilac-trees stands a young specimen 

 of Syringa pubeseeiis heavy with delicate lavender- 

 white bloom. The bush is about five feet in 

 height and stands on an almost solid carpet of 

 forget-me-nots; before the lilacs are masses of 

 bleeding-hearts in full flower, to the right Clara 

 Butt tulips; in the foreground of all this a soft, 

 round mass of ribbon-grass, witli Clara Butt rising 

 now again through this; to the left, and also in 

 the foreground, tall forget-me-nots in a long blue 

 drift; and beyond these, lilies-of-the-valley, bloom- 

 ing whitely to their tips against their stiflF green 

 leaves, "each one" — as a delightful English writer 



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