SPANISH GARDENS 



greens of spring. Indoors, upon the tea-table, in 

 a room flooded with the vivid sun of California, 

 stood a brilliant assemblage of flowers; indeed, I 

 thought — it might have been that wondrous sun, it 

 might have been the atmosphere of warm hospital- 

 ity around us, but it seemed to me I had never 

 seen flowers quite so gay. A round bowl was 

 filled with these: yellow daffodils, freesias of the 

 purest white, purple lupine, escholtzia, nastur- 

 tiums in deeper and lighter tones of orange and 

 yellow, mignonette. Two more flowers gave this 

 lovely arrangement the special interest to me of 

 novelty; many sprays of the white allium added 

 delicacy to the mass, and scattered here and there 

 throughout the group was the charming agathea, 

 that little lavender-blue daisy-like flower, which 

 does so much for southern California gardens in 

 March. 



A neighboring house, ItaKanesque, and most 

 charming in line and color, gave me a lovely mem- 

 ory in flowers. Along a cream-white wall of 

 stucco three things made a picture of enviable 

 beauty: long lavender tassels of Japanese wistaria 

 hung with inimitable grace against this wall at 

 one end, not thickly, but lightly; color, line, 

 shadow, were all here in perfection. And set fur- 



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