THE PARKS AT MIDSUMMER, 



231 



consolation; but the workman spacing 

 golden Geraniums around a mass of 

 Cannas, tells us we are too early by at 

 least a month. And so it seems, for even 

 the finished beds are merely scattered 

 with the usual Geraniums and Lobelias, 

 Fuchsias, Coleus, and Alternanthera, 

 with gauntBegonias and Abutilons look- 

 ing so forlorn that one feels almost glad 

 that so many have given it up at the out- 

 set and lie brown and withered. "Come 

 again in about a month; there are two 

 great houses, each 130 feet long, full of 

 Palms and things we shall be putting 

 out directly" — and then you divine the 

 meaning of the gaping scars upon the 

 grass at measured distance, which have 

 held the rain and gathered rubbish all 

 the winter. But even the mixed borders 

 are in little happier case at Battersea ; 

 for not only are the hardy plants con- 

 demned to struggle with the roots of 

 greedy trees and shrubs, but their whole 

 arrangement is spotty and disappointing 

 and the press of bedding-work means 

 neglectfor the outdoor things. In order 

 to have any chance at all the tender ex- 

 otics must come first and have all the 

 best places, so their hardier brethren suf- 

 fer. Still, a little more boldness and ima- 

 gination would do much in the mixed 

 border, if only planters would learn to 

 mass in groups instead of dotting, and 

 avoid all plants poor in colour and in 

 constitution. 



St. James's Park reaches a higher 

 level, though its merits are mostly nega- 

 tive, with here and there a pretty cluster 

 of crimson Potentilla , a cheery rambling 

 Rose glowing conspicuously across the 

 water, and colonies of Clove Carnation 



coming on. Seen from the foot-bridge, 

 however, the new wall at the end of the 

 lake quite spoils the view in that direc- 

 tion. As for the bedding in the new 

 space fronting the palace, surely one 

 might look for something worthier than 

 the pudding-like mass of Rhododen- 

 drons in the centre and the rows of red 

 Geraniums dotted with Marguerites that 

 are set out as artlessly as ashes in the 

 nursery yard. And so on to Hyde Park 

 where the Rhododendrons are fine in 

 colour and still thick with bloom, but, 

 this said, there is nothing further to com- 

 mend. The dismal array of beds facing 

 Park Lane, such as one has seen for 

 seasonspast,the same bad plants — varie- 

 gated Privet, Cupheas, Lantanas, and 

 Alternanthera — all too lately planted 

 to be beautiful even as "bedding" ; in 

 fact there are yet arid wastes recalling the 

 months of desolation past. Even where 

 theplants are good — Pinks, Violas, and 

 the like — the planting to shape, and the 

 lack of fit surroundings, are against all 

 good effect; for who can make a flower- 

 picture with a background of spiked 

 iron, and plants set out as no natural 

 plant is ever seen. Hyde Park is so hope- 

 lessly bad that with relief we turn away 

 and look for something less crude and 

 childish in Regent's Park. Here at least 

 the shrubberies are better and the group- 

 ing carried out with skill. And here we 

 see the first real Roses, and good they 

 are too : Caroline Testout, and Ulrich 

 Brunner, with a showy group of Gruss 

 an Teplitz and others. But here too the 

 fruits of a bad system are seen in beds 

 of Viola and Thrift, with other hardy 

 plants, left to struggle with the weeds as 



p 4 



