180 



THE GARDEN MAGAZINE 



November. 1909 



The giant coltsfoot {Petasites Japonica, var. gigantea) wliich has leaves four to six feet across, 

 a single root at Sutton Place, home of Lord. Northcliffe 



Spread from 



tropical plants of famous beauty, such as 

 the acacias, mimosas and tamarind. Now 

 the very soul of their beauty is a kind of 

 feminine grace and airiness which is due to 

 their feathery foliage. Their leaves are com- 

 posed of great numbers of small leaflets 

 arranged with admirable precision and not 

 only are these highly compound leaves deco- 

 rative in themselves, but they respond with 

 myriad undulations to the slightest breeze; 

 and the play of light and shade, as the sun's 

 beams sift down through these innumerable 

 leaflets, is a source of deep and never- 

 ending joy. 



The language of the botanists rarely helps 

 us to understand beauty, but the word 

 "pinnate" exactly describes the nature of 

 this feathery foliage. It refers to a leaf 



composed of many leaflets which are 

 arranged on either side of a common stem 

 in a definite order, sometimes alternate, 

 sometimes opposite, sometimes with a single 

 leaflet at the end, sometimes not. Here 

 then we have the physical basis, or body, of 

 this kind of beauty. 



Now let us examine the hardy members 

 of the legume family. Among trees there are 

 the honey locust, yellowwood, redbud, 

 Japanese pagoda and Siberian pea tree, all 

 of which are beautiful in flower, while the 

 common locust and the Kentucky coffee tree 

 are not quite as showy. Among shrubs there 

 is the Cassia or Maryland senna. Among 

 perennials are Baptisia and Coronilla. And 

 among climbers is the noble wistaria. 



I freely admit that none of these is exactly 



Butterbur {Petasites vulgaris) has leaves two feet across and makes colonies six or eight feet in diameter 

 under trees that cast a dense shade. A good plant under trees that are bare below 



like a mimosa. All of them may have 

 larger leaflets than the most refined acacias 

 of the tropics. Doubtless they differ among 

 themselves as much as an equal number 

 of women. But they all agree in having 

 a certain feminine charm. And I think that 

 ought to be enough. For these plants bring 

 to us the spirit of tropical beauty in a form 

 that is adapted to our climate, since the plants 

 remain outdoors the year round. The 

 letter of truth would be to grow acacias in 

 tubs in your greenhouse and put them in 

 your garden in summer. But that seems to 

 me a very small and poor letter, for it does not 

 give us the birds and butterflies that belong 

 with the acacia, and the tubs — well, they 

 are tubs. These objections do not apply to 

 the yellowwood on the lawn or the redbud 

 in the garden. 



AN INFALLIBLE RULE 



So, then, we have a sure principle to guide 

 us in bringing the spirit of tropical beauty 

 to the North. We are not to pick out 

 the showiest plants of the tropics and trans- 

 port them bodily, for they fear the frost. 

 Their faces, so to speak, blanch at the thought 

 of it and, therefore, they can never look 

 entirely happy or seem at home in our gar- 

 dens. The true way is to search out the 

 hardy members of each family that plays 

 a great part in the tropics. These will 

 look at home both summer and winter, for 

 even when they are bare they will give us 

 some beauty of outline, branching, bark, 

 bud, or berry. In the case of herbs there 

 will be only two or three months gained, but 

 in the case of the trees and shrubs we shall 

 get a dignity from their stature which we can 

 never have from the tropical plants that are 

 set outdoors for the summer. 



WHAT WE MEAN BY " TROPICAL" 



Nine times out of ten when we speak of 

 "tropical vegetation," the chief idea in our 

 mind is luxuriance of foliage, rather than any 

 particular leaf form. I realized this during 

 my first day in England, when I saw clearly 

 that the overwhelming beauty of England is 

 due chiefly to her great luxuriance. For 

 when the earth seems teeming with fertility, 

 everything looks prosperous and happy. 

 America does not yet have this look, except 

 in spots. One great reason for it is that 

 hitherto we have relied chiefly upon European 

 plants and these, broadly speaking, do not 

 fit our climate as well as our own and those 

 from China and Japan. Throughout this 

 series of articles I have been illustrating in 

 many different ways a single theme, viz., that 

 America can never get this happy, prosperous 

 look, this "nearly tropical luxuriance," until 

 American plants constitute the bulk of our 

 plantings. 



We must have "spice," however, and my 

 present object is to explain the different 

 ideas that roam about in consciousness 

 when we speak of "tropical effects" or 

 "tropical charm." 



THE LARGE-LEAF EFFECT 



Undoubtedly one important element is the 

 gigantic individual leaf. The conventional 



