THE RED ROSE WALK 



The first glimpse I had of the most remark- 

 able red hardy hybrid-tea rose that grows, re- 

 markable in color, remarkable in form, remark- 

 able in flower, remarkable in foliage, remarkable 

 in fragrance, remarkable in its lavishness of 

 bloom, was after crossing a quaint rustic bridge, 

 lazily stretching itself over a happy little stream 

 banked with forget-me-nots. I climbed a dear 

 "hillet" a sudden turn in the woodland road, and 

 there — I was almost upon it; "The Red Rose 

 Walk" was before me. Its ravishing red roses, its 

 great coral crimson tipped foliage, proudly and 

 princely assertive. Glorious "Gruss an Teplitz!" 

 I greet you! 



Dear Red Rose Walk, I love the cunning cir- 

 cular stone step that beckons me down to your 

 quaint stone portal just outside your low rustic 

 gates, with the arch above. I love the two pom- 

 pous little green sentinels you have placed guard- 



