OLD-FASHIONED FLOWERS 



There is a class — and a very large class — of folks 

 who are so constituted that continual prize or applause 

 hunting are essentials to happiness. For such, the 

 topiary-victimised trees, the glaring carpet beds, and 

 the flower show are useful and comparatively harmless 

 instruments for the indulgence of their little weaknesses. 

 But it goes sorely against the grain to give to such the 

 honourable and historic title of gardener, just as one 

 hesitates to describe as a gardener the issuer of that 

 curious catalogue of greens" which Pope satirically 

 described in No. 173 of The Guardian : — 



Adam and Eve in yew ; Adam a little shattered by 

 the fall of the tree of knowledge in the great storm ; 

 Eve and the serpent very flourishing. Noah's Ark in 

 holly, the ribs a little damaged for want of water. 



The tower of Babel not yet finished. 



St George in Box ; his arm scarce strong enough, 

 but will be in a condition to stick the dragon by next 

 April. 



A green dragon of the same ; with a tail of ground- 

 ivy for the present. 



N.B. — Those two are not to be sold separately. 



Edward the Black Prince in Cyprus . . . 



A Queen Elizabeth in Phyliirea, a little inclining to 

 the green sickness, but of full growth. 



An old maid of honour in wormwood. 



A topping Ben Jonson in Laurel. 



Divers eminent modern poets in bays." 

 As a matter of fact, what we understand as old- 

 fashioned gardening has never been a fashion at all. 

 When Addison wrote in The Spectator that he would 

 ^' rather look upon a tree in all its luxuriancy and 

 diffusion of boughs and branches, than when it is cut 

 and trimmed into a mathematical figure," and that he 

 fancied that '*an orchard in flower looks infinitely more 

 delightful than all the little labyrinths of the most 



