A SELF-DETERMINED IRIS GARDEN 



JOHN L. REA • 

 Accomplished Pursuant to the Verdict of a Plebiscite Following a Period of Considerable Unrest 



JNElovely May morning I paused — as sooften before — 

 in front of a great clump of the lovely pale blue Iris 

 pallida dalmatica — not the lavender-tinged pallida 

 foisted upon so many of us by ignorant or con- 

 scienceless growers but the true dalmatica, so like yet so un- 

 like her sister — and caught 

 in her very manner a sug- 

 gestion of silent protest. 

 And the truth flashed upon 

 me! Not that it had al- 

 together escaped me hith- 

 erto. 1 had indeed real- 

 ized for a long time that 

 conditions in the upper 

 end of the long border 

 were far from satisfactory. 

 I was convinced, too, 

 that the trouble traced to 

 its source would lead to 

 the Irises as the chief, if 

 not only disturbers of the 

 general peace. For from 

 the melting of the last 

 snow up to their bloom- 

 ing time everything was 

 in harmony with every- 

 thing else. The little blue 

 Squills and Snowdrops in 

 their allotted patches, the 

 Crocuses along the front 

 of the border and the 

 early Tulips just back of 

 them, then the Daffodils 

 and late Tulips, all found 

 and left a world peaceful 

 enough. Further, all signs 

 of friction vanished after 

 the Irises were through 

 flowering and the Peonies 

 came on — to be followed 

 in succession by the blue 

 and white Peachbells and 



buff colored Foxgloves, the towering Larkspurs, the early white 

 Phloxes, the Madonna Lilies, the gorgeous late Phloxes, and 

 lastly the jewel-like Daisies and Chrysanthemums of au- 

 tumn. 



All these came, flourished, and passed away with never a 

 suggestion of discord. There was just that one short period 

 of the proud Iris, in all the summer, when the inhabitants of 

 my border seemed at odds with each other. And at last 1 saw 

 that it was a plain-as-day case of that current phenomenon 

 which we call social unrest. The whole Iris family were out 

 of place, discontented with their neighbors and more particu- 



THE LENGTH OF THE IRIS GARDEN IN MAYTIME 



Where the demon of unrest cannot enter and all the clans dwell 

 in that unruffled serenity that comes of having one's own way 



larly with the clothes these neighbors would persist in wear- 

 ing, and mutely but eloquently informing me to put in force 

 the principle of self-determination and give them a corner 

 somewhere all to themselves. 1 could see now with half an 

 eye that the situation in which the Iris family found itself 



was unbearable! 



EXCEPT for a few 

 clumps of some 

 broad-bladed sort placed 

 in the front of the border 

 solely for the accent the 

 foliage would furnish, the 

 Irises should obviously 

 never have been planted 

 where they were in the 

 first place. Plainly enough 

 they had all along been 

 misfits in that gracious 

 company — not because 

 they were less lovely, but 

 rather because they were 

 more so. Here amid the 

 gay Tulips and Daffodils 

 the effect of their soft, 

 beautiful, exquisitely 

 blended and penciled col- 

 ors, and the wonderful 

 structure of the Iris 

 blooms was all but wasted. 

 In respect of surpassing 

 workmanship, exact and 

 delicate as jewel cutting 

 and to be appreciated in 

 much the same way, no 

 flower of our gardens 

 seems to me of equal 

 charm and wonder. 



What a landing stage 

 for a bee is that tip-tilted 

 outer edge of the velvet 

 "fall"! And how exqui- 

 sitely arranged are those guiding hairlike lines of purple or blue 

 — the bee's favorite colors the scientists say — that lead nottoa 

 pot of fool's gold at a rainbow's end but to a sip of nectarfit for 

 a golden bee. And is there anything more delicate and dainty 

 in all creation than the canopy under which the nectar is to be 

 found? The Iris more than any other flower in my garden 

 seems to me to invite close inspection — and no other flower 

 so resents being placed next a flower of another sort or color. 

 Irises, indeed, unlike most flowers, are often quarrelsome 

 among themselves! I have a great mass of a smoky old 

 gold and reddish bronze colored Iris that will combine 



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