THROUGH THE GARDEN GATE 





Wafted into my room the scent of the flowers of 

 the Plum tree 



Changes my broken window into a source of de- 

 light. 



(From the Japanese by Lafcadio Hearn.) 



The Fragrance of May 



Nowadays I think we do not plan enough for 

 fragrance in our gardens. This color-scheming 

 is so enthralling that we are apt to forget that 

 quite as much of our garden pleasure comes 

 through our noses as through our eyes, and many 

 people who do not care for flowers in themselves 

 are moved by their fragrance. 



Every spring when May comes round I am 

 grateful that there is a white Hawthorn just out- 

 side my bedroom window. It makes an entranc- 

 ing event of awakening. Just beyond is a thicket 

 of little half-wild Plum trees that, had I a broken 

 window, would change it "into a source of de- 

 light." 



One of my favorite May perfumes is offered 

 by the little wild British Tulip, Tulipa sylvestris. 

 Its wide golden yellow blossoms flood the air 

 with a scent like that of hot house Violets. 

 Seven or eight years ago I set out a dozen or so 

 bulbs of this Tulip in the neighborhood of an old 

 Scotch Rose against the south wall of my garden. 

 In the spring two small reddish leaves were sent 

 up from each bulb but no blossoms. The second 

 spring, however, small pointed buds, bronze 

 coated upon slender stems appeared between the 

 clasping leaves and soon opened out into the wide, 

 fragrant yellow blossoms. Since then this small 

 Tulip has spread — and to have a Tulip spread is 

 very gratifying — until the old Scotch Rose is 

 surrounded and carpeted with them and there is 

 even a colony right in the gravel at the edge of a 

 near-by path. From this I argue that Tulipa 

 sylvestris has found conditions that exactly suit 

 it — shade shelter and good garden soil. From 

 time to time I transfer a few bulbs to the shade 

 of Lilacs or other shrubs about the garden and all 

 are doing well so that in time there wdl be hun- 

 dreds of little wild Tulips to add to the sweetness 

 of May. Of course its specific name, sylvestris, 

 would suggest a liking for shade, but this evidence 

 is not always to be depended upon. In the case 

 of Dianthus sylvestris, only the sunniest positions 

 in the garden suit it at all. 



More About Sedums 



Mrs. Rathbone's delightful Sedum Adven- 

 tures (page 1 1 8) incite me to recount a few of my 

 own. These amiable plants have long consoled 

 me for the miffy behavior of certain other rock 

 plants that dwell, or decline to dwell, within my 

 garden gates. However Campanula this or that, 

 or Saxifrage the other may flout my efforts in 

 their behalf, or try my patience, there are always 

 Sedums in plenty doing exactly as they should 

 and setting an example that might well be taken 

 to heart by many. These plants are particularly 

 well adapted to our dry, sunny American gar- 

 dens and if given a few stones to ramble among 

 are entirely happy. 



The latest comer to my fold is Sedum dasy 

 phyllum. It is a Britisher, a little tufted thing 

 but a few inches tall, with small gray leaves and 

 minute pink enameled blossoms. This, the 

 "Cyclopedia of American Horticulture" gives as 



one with S. glaucum, but Johnson allows them a 

 separate standing, but as I have not the latter 

 I can not compare them. Another of my favor- 

 ites is S. sarmentosum. This has quite pale 

 green leaves on slender, prostrate stems, and 

 flat-topped umbels of light yellow flowers. It 

 is a delightful plant for a sunny wall face for it 

 spreads out perfectly flat, seeming to cling to the 

 stones, instead of hanging in festoons as do so 

 many of its kind. Sedum Nevii is also a good 

 little plant of tufted growth that has made a 

 home for itself in a crevice of a low wall. It 

 bears many starry white flowers in widely forked 

 cymes held well above the rosettes of foliage. 



The showiest of my collection, and one of the 

 most satisfactory for all sorts of purposes, is one 

 I found growing in a deserted garden between 

 flag stones by the kitchen door. It is Sedum 

 spurium, also known as S. stoloniferum, and 

 there is a white as well as a rose-colored variety. 

 Its long prostrate shoots root at the nodes and 

 the flowers are borne in a forked cluster on stems 

 several inches tall in summer. This must be an 

 old plant in American gardens, for I have news 

 from here and there of its having thrown off 

 hampering garden conditions and betaken itself 

 to the open roadside, and no recent arrival does 

 this. I wonder can it be Mrs. Rathbone's 

 "Sedum tramp"! If so I should be delighted 

 to restore him to her. Material comforts seem 

 little necessary to this sturdy plant, for it will 

 grow anywhere. I have it most luxuriant upon the 

 top of a wall where a little earth had been spread. 



Mr. Bowles, in "My Garden in Autumn and 

 Winter," has some pleasant pages about Sedums. 

 "It would be easy," he says, "to fill a fair-sized 

 rock garaen with nothing but Sedums and yet 

 make it attractive throughout the year, as so 

 many of them are quite independent of their 

 flowers for beauty. Several of them color finely 

 as Autumn draws near, especially if grown in 

 exposed, dry positions." 



Mr. Bowles speaks in particular of the charm of 

 Sedum pulchellum, known as Widow's Cross for 

 short. And from the Botanic Gardens in Bath, 

 England, comes this flattering description of it: 

 "It is indeed a most charming plant, possessing 

 all the attributes of a really good rock garden 

 subject. It is an evergreen species, producing 

 numerous growths from a central tuft. As 

 these lengthen they very much resemble the 

 young growing shoots of a Spruce, their narrow 

 pointed leaves being about an inch in length. 

 These, when mature, assume a most beautiful 

 shade of red." The flowers are soft rose-purple. 

 This would certainly seem to be a most desirable 

 species and quite distinct among Stonecrops. 

 It is, moreover, a native American, to be found 

 in our Southern and Mid-Western states; and 

 yet in twelve important catalogues, examined this 

 morning, that list many other varieties of Sedum, 

 Sedum pulchellum is not named. I should be 

 glad if any reader can tell me wher in this coun- 

 try this fine native is to be had. 



If any good at all can come from the devasta- 

 ting order of the Federal Horticultural Board, 

 that shuts us off, alone among nations, from the 

 horticultural treasures of the world, it may be 

 that we shall become more widely acquainted 

 with our own flora. But it is a heavy price to 

 pay for what might have been accomplished for 

 no price at all! 



A Fine Native Rock Plant 



One of [the prettiest of rock plants is our 

 native Rock or Wild Pink, Silene pennsylvanica. 

 I know it upon the rocky hillsides of Westchester 

 County, N. Y., but its range extends from New 



159 



England southward through South Carolina and 

 west through Kentucky. It is a true crevice 

 plant, nearly always found wedged tightly into 

 a cranny where the scant soil is mostly composed 

 of leafmold. Its growth is tufted and it has soft 

 grayish leaves and stems, a trifle sticky in the 

 manner of most of its fly-catching family, and 

 large bright pink blossoms carried on rather long 

 stems. It makes a charming splash of color 

 upon the bare rocks in May and is well worth a 

 place in the choicest collection. I know of at 

 least one collector from whom this fine native 

 plant may be secured. 



Our country is rather rich in Silenes, though 

 not all of them are fit for use in gardens. The 

 Sticky Cockles and Bladder Campions are well 

 enough for the wayside but do not come up to 

 garden standards. In high mountain meadows, 

 however, close to the never-melting snow of our 

 own Rocky Mountains, as well as in other alpine 

 regions of the world, grows the tiny Moss Camp- 

 ion, Silene acaulis, with its harsh, moss-like foliage 

 and minute pink blossoms. This mite has con- 

 sistently refused to bloom for me, though it grows 

 well enough in stony soil until an unusually dry, 

 burning summer proves too much for it. 



The Far West offers three other Silenes whose 

 descriptions once read must fill any rock gar- 

 dener with a desire to possess them. Silene 

 laciniata, coming from about Pasadena where 

 "the brilliant flowers gleam among the under- 

 brush like bits of flame," may not be hardy 

 enough to stand the winter in northern gardens. 

 However, the picture of the ragged flame-colored 

 blossoms in Margaret Armstrong's "Western 

 Wildflowers" determines me to try. The two 

 others are more promising. Silene californica 

 grows in open woods of the mountains along the 

 coast and in the Sierras. The large flowers 

 "gleam like coals of fire on the brown forest 

 floor." Who would not desire this plant for his 

 own! Silene Hookeri is described as having pink 

 flowers, rarely white, often more than two inches 



The Rock Pink is a true crevice plant and worth planting in any 

 rock garden for its beauty, and it is also a native 



across. It grows on shady hillsides in various 

 parts of the Northwest. These plants may all 

 be had of a Western collector. 



Two Good Blue-Flowered Plants 



It often happens that one member of a plant 

 family establishes itself in the good graces of a few 

 enterprising nurserymen and is so lauded and 

 advertised that other members of the family, 

 just as deserving, are almost overlooked. This 

 is what has come about in the Veronica family. 

 V. subsessilis is constantly in the public eye 

 while one seldom sees V. amethystina and V. 

 spicata noticed at all. 



In reality these two European species are 



