September, 1912 



THE GARDEN MAGAZINE 



43 



off? It's quite as if it had always been 

 here." 



"Oh, the woods soon heal up the scars 

 down here in Maryland." 



"It's naturally a wood region with 

 plenty of warm sun a good part of the 

 year, I imagine." 



"Yes, indeed, plenty of sun. There 

 were the usual predictions of failure when 

 we laid out the road through this tangle 

 of woodland across the wet places. Up 

 there by the yellow pines and down here 

 in this low place where the beeches begin 

 it certainly was a discouraging place to 

 ask men to work. The natives thought the 

 Master of Hope "sure queer" for going 

 crooked through the woods when by strik- 

 ing a line from one end to the other he 

 could have had a "nice straight road just 

 like the county highway, with proper 

 straight ditches on either side." But 

 he made the road just as you see it now, and 

 marked every tree that was to be cut down. 

 It took one whole beautiful year to com- 

 plete the drive. I was sorry when it was 

 finished, it was such a delight to watch the 

 curves grow." 



"I see how carefully the ditches have 

 been planned to carry away the water 



without being unsightly. This rounded 

 road surface must always keep in good 

 condition." 



We left the wood and followed the cove 

 that leads into the creek through the 

 fields, where the corn was stacked in wide 

 open rows, making room for planting win- 

 ter wheat. 



"Shall we leave the car and walk the 

 rest of the way?" 



"Yes indeed. I want to get some 

 country mud on my shoes." 



"You'll have plenty of that. Greens- 

 bury, tell them at the House we'll be in 

 for luncheon by one o'clock." 



We walked down over the first bridge, 

 up a bit of a hill and came to the outer 

 plantation of catalpas. 



"Well, what's all this?" 



"Some of our first experiments, Catalpa 

 speciosa, the western catalpa, for fence 

 posts! Just a plain commercial product." 



"How long before they'll be big enough 

 to use?" 



"Possibly in four years. They are three 

 years old now. We have several acres in 

 the different plantations, so some time 

 we'll have plenty when we need new posts 

 about our fields." 



"Pardon me if I venture to differ from 

 you on the subject of fence posts. You're 

 not up to date. I use concrete posts." 



"Of course, in the city." 



"No, not in the city, on my farm in the 

 country." 



' ' On your farm? Then you have a farm? 

 Why didn't you tell me? Where is it?" 



"Oh, yes, I've got a farm, had it a long 

 time, ever since I was a boy, but just where 

 it is, weU, I couldn't say exactly, it has 

 a queer way of changing its location, now 

 it's one place and now it's another." 



"You have so many farms? That's a 

 heap of trouble." 



"I haven't many, only one, and that's 

 no trouble, not in the least." 



"When do you go down there?" 



"I couldn't just say exactly, but now, 

 this is confidential, I am there just at odd 

 times. Oh yes, I'm in the country a good 

 bit." 



"It certainly is queer about your farm." 



"It certainly is, but as I said — on my 

 farm I use concrete posts." 



"Naturally they'd be all right there, 

 because on your kind of a farm I suppose 

 the concrete is always at hand and the 

 right man on the spot to do the work, but 



The old Ha-ha at Wye. There is another at Mount Vernon, for which this was the model 



