GARDENS ENCLOSED 19 
fine weather. ‘To the artist and gardener, as well as to 
the farmer and the sportsman, this primitive desire recurs 
more or less at all seasons; it is, in one or other of its 
phases, common to all healthy people, and I at least 
believe that the inception of all the best human work 
comes more freely to those who are commonly called 
‘‘open air” people. Unfortunately our British climate 
does not often, much less always lend itself to a life in 
the open air, as does that of the south and south-eastern 
Europe, hence even in our gardens arises the necessity 
for shelter, and the garden house in one form or another 
deserves, because it actually demands attention. In 
modern times the conservatory near the house, or the 
more or less remote greenhouses, have served as tempo- 
rary shelters, and so to some extent the old summer- 
houses, arched alcoves, or cloisters of masonry or of 
box and yew, have vanished as encumbrances, and a 
good deal of picturesque ingenuity and quaintness in 
gardens has consequently been lost. 
A tent pitched near or beneath a shady tree on the 
lawn is useful, but lacks many of the comforts and 
conveniences of the old-fashioned garden-house, often 
of good design and permanently built of local stone and 
timber, thatched or tiled, and half-hidden by Roses, 
Jasmine, Honeysuckle, or Clematis, with Yews, Mallow, 
_ Wistaria, and Hollyhocks near to or around the rustic 
porch, and carpets of Mignonette and Musk, or of Violets, 
and white-fringed Pinks, or spicy Carnations beneath the 
diamond-paned windows or beside the snug door. 
In large public gardens, people are apt to look for 
gorgeous display, but a private garden is really a domestic 
shrine of quiet and peaceful enjoyment. A garden near 
one’s dwelling delights us best when it is restful and 
refreshing ; startling effects are pleasant now and then, 
but they are of all things the most wearying to live with, 
however good, in their own way, they may be. 
