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AMERICAN HOMES AND GARDENS 



August, 1 9 13 



on that bed, until the pale blue Celeste, the yellow Flor- 

 escens, the deeper blue Pallida, the glistening white Snow 

 Queen and the early Hemorcallis are in their glory, then 

 only do I forget my gay Tulips. In the center of this Iris 

 bed are both early and late Hemorcallis, and rising out of 

 their slender leaves are the Candidum lilies, giving to the 

 whole garden a sweet fragance and a chaste dignity. 



By June, the entire garden is rarely delicate in color, and 

 when I walk through it, I am almost subdued. Perhaps it is 

 the white lilies that give an atmosphere I cannot live up 

 to, it is so transcendental. The shrubbery is a mass ot white 

 with the early Hydrangea, and the Spirea Chinense with its 

 prim plumes, forms an edging for the beds, the air is heavy 

 with the Candidum lilies, and when the moon climbs over 

 the trees, it seems as if a capricious April snow had fallen 

 over all. By day it is more dazzling than the gaily colored 

 Tulips, and one does not miss the absence of color in this 

 now all white garden, and the fast growing Phloxes hide 

 the fading Tulip leaves. In July the Phloxes begin to take 

 their place in the color scheme, and there comes a lovely 

 change in color. The deep violet Lord Raleigh, toning 

 down to the pale Eugene Danzanvilliers, and the delicate 

 stalks of Funkia Ovata give the lavender shades, while the 

 late Hemorcallis, the Florhan variety, of a pale Primrose 

 color gives a pastel grouping, which is emphasized strangely 

 enough by a mass of Phlox Coquelicot, which is described 

 by various names as to its color, but is only correctly named 

 by the famous French color chart as shades of Cardinal 

 Red. 



In August I confess to a brilliancy that is kaleidoscopic. 

 The Phlox glows, the Helianthus glimmers, the Veronica 



waves flashes of blue that fairly dazzle, and the Iris bed 

 wakes to color again as the Gladiola begins to bloom. What 

 a wonderful shade, and what a marvelous flower is the 

 lovely hooded Gladiola from South Africa, the Primulinus, 

 and how beautiful are the hybrids they are getting from 

 this stranger, of a so delicately harmonious yellow, that it 

 blends with everything. 



With this riot of color I am bewildered, and with paper 

 and pencil, I plan and replan. I decide the Phlox Mme. 

 Langier must go, I even tag all the offending stalks, but 

 suddenly a doubt enters my mind, and I get off my knees 

 to ask who it is all for, this weeding out, myself or an un- 

 known critic! Then the ego rises supreme, and I rejoice 

 in the barbaric color and perfume, and smother all my 

 color schemes, and decide to wait until September, when 

 the garden tones down. The sweet scented Nicotine, and 

 the lemon Verbenias that I tuck away in the bare spaces 

 add their share to the garden's perfume, the pink and white 

 Japan lilies begin to bloom, followed by the Anemones, and 

 it is indeed a feast of scents. It is beginning to be Sep- 

 tember now, the sun is not so high and the bright colored 

 Phloxes look subdued. Miss Lingard has flowered again, 

 here and there a stray Gladiolus or an early Chrysanthe- 

 mum show color; in the shrubbery the blue Spirea gives a 

 suggestion of misty clouds over a Summer sky, there is a 

 touch of red in the Barberry, the purple leaved Filbert seem 

 to emphasize the waning Summer, Later in the month the 

 African Marigolds come on, giving a final brightness be- 

 fore Fall. 



In October, I depend upon the hardy Chrysanthemums 

 (Continued on page 300) 



The little path leading to the garden 





