338 



THE GARDEN MAGAZINE 



July, 191: 



Hollyhocks and sweet peas seen through an 

 arch of common hop. There are few flowers 

 on this place and they are not scattered in 

 showy ways, but planted near the house 



trast. After a day outdoors on the 

 prairie, a cosy home looks good. 

 After a day's housework the prairie 

 seems lovelier than ever. You can- 

 not get this contrast in a house that 

 stares out at the prairie from every 

 window. You cannot get it in 

 grounds that are everywhere open to 

 every passer-by. Somehow we must 

 all get back to wildness — even if it is 

 only a tent in the yard or a fireplace 

 in the flat. We must get into relation 

 with the infinite. Every home must have 

 a theme. 



I do not say that Mr. Tinker consciously 

 had this particular theme when he settled 

 in Rockford fifty-six years ago. But you 

 can see what made him buy these six acres. 

 He wanted the music of the creek. He 

 wanted the wildness of these old, old Silurian 

 rocks which, with their horizontal strati- 

 fication, give a thousand delicate reminders 

 of the colossal beauty of the prairie — its 

 vast horizontal lines of land, Wv. ^ds, crops, 

 and clouds. He wanted the wildness of 

 woods. He built a Swiss cottage in an 

 effort to harmonize his house with these 

 rocks, and you realize the snugness of 

 the home. 



Consciously or not, the home-builder 

 obeyed the fundamental principles of 

 landscape gardening. Every beginner can 

 understand these principles. Every be- 

 ginner can apply them with some degree of 

 success to his own problem. Let us see 

 what they are. 



(i) Screening unsightly objects. There 

 were old trees on the place when the present 

 owner bought it. Those who love show 

 would have cut away the trees near the 

 road and put the house directly on the 

 street. This man set his house back from 

 the road where he could enjoy the rocks 

 and the water. The woods, therefore, 

 hide from the house the passing show of the 

 road and one half the town. He could not, 



Cataract and Gothic bridge made by Mr. Tinker. The 

 trees are American lindens. The boldest vegetation on the 

 rocks is wild spikenard (Aralia racemosa), noted for the tropi- 

 cal effect of its foliage and the splendor of its berries 



however, shut out that part of the town 

 which has grown up across the stream. 

 How can you screen the ugliness on your 

 place? Do you need evergreens to hide 

 the outbuildings, vines for the barn, or a 

 country home far away from city sights? 



(2) Privacy. The same trees which hide 

 the street from the house also shelter the 

 family from the eyes of the curious. The 

 fence and shrubbery give some protection 

 from animals and flower thieves. The 

 family enjoys a comfortable outdoor living 

 room — not a lawn exposed to every passer- 

 by. Visitors appreciate the garden twice 

 as much because it is secluded. Yet the 

 spirit of the place is not exclusive. Every 

 passer-by can clearly see the water and the 

 rocks, and every one can get a glimpse of 

 the house. Are you going to have your 

 grounds open to every eye, or live in them 

 the year round? 



(3) Views. In a city no one can have a 

 good comprehensive view free from eye- 

 sores. We must, therefore, make the most 

 of little views within the place. One way 

 to multiply these views is by means of 

 arbors, summer house, screened porch, or 

 arches. The most important view always 

 should be the house from the point where 

 you first see it after entering the grounds. 



(4) Water. This is half the battle in 

 horticulture, because it makes plants 

 thrive and prevents trouble with insects 

 and diseases. Here we have the smooth 



An arched gate of box elder overgrown with 

 wild grape. A home-made rose arbor. The 

 verdure clad arch, with bits of color beyond 

 are features throughout the whole place 



pond, the rapids below, and the 

 little cataract seen under a Gothic 

 bridge. Mr. Tinker made that cata- 

 ract and that bridge. Are you con- 

 tent to live in a city away from sight 

 and sound of a brook? 



(5) Permanence. Flowers are less 

 permanent than shrubs; shrubs are 

 less permanent than trees. This 

 place has many trees and therefore it 

 is more enduring, dignified, and eco- 

 nomical than a show place. It has a 

 few flowers, where they belong, i. e., near 

 the house — not scattered over the lawn. 

 Have 90 per cent, of your planting composed 

 of shrubs, instead of 90 per cent, flowers. 



(6) Mellowness. See the grand old white 

 oak that broods over the gable of this house 

 It is about 60 ft. high with lower horizontal 

 limbs reaching 36 ft. over the lawn. A 

 still grander one died in the year 1900. 

 A fine souvenir of it is preserved — a 

 polished cross-section of this giant used as 

 a table top, which is nearly 3 ft. in diameter. 

 Every tenth ring outlined in black shows 

 this tree to have been 175 years old. It 

 had a spread of more than 7 5 ft. 



(7) Native Plants. Probably 95 per cent, 

 of the plants on these grounds is native 

 to the place. Its charm is largely due to 

 the oaks, the ironwoods and lindens the 

 wild flowers on the cliff and the wild spike- 

 nard and bluebells which clothe the rock 

 below the bridge. The "best" plants for any 

 home grounds are those which grow wild 

 within ten miles of the place. They will 

 thrive more luxuriantly, live longer, have 

 fewer troubles, and cost less to maintain. 



The garden critic finds here, as every- 

 where, some drawbacks and limitations. 

 There are some Victorian details, e. g., 

 vases, which seem out of keeping. The 

 place is poor in evergreens, as every city 

 home must be on account of smoke; but 

 there is a wholesome unity and fitness that 

 make this house attractive. 



