jIY MOTHEB'-S gaedex 



13 



will be like!}' to have from six to a dozen 

 canes, or more, the effect of a great group 

 in fnll bloom can be imagined by those 

 who have not been fortunate enough to 

 see it, but imagination will fall far short 

 of reality. 



In growing Eoses, the first thing to do 

 is to decide upon a suitable location. This 

 is of the greatest importance. Eoses like 

 a sunny place which is sheltered from cold 

 and strong winds, and a well drained soil. 

 Xothing injures a rose quicker or more 



severely than stagnant water at its roots. 

 Therefore, in choosing a locatioji for your 

 Eose garden select a place naturallv well 

 drained, if possible. If it is not so. see to 

 it that artificial drainage is provided quite 

 as effective in results as natural drainage 

 would be. This matter must l^e carefully 

 attended to if you would succeed in your 

 undertaking. Overlook it, and you will 

 have good reason, sooner or later, to re- 

 pent your failure to do your duty by the 

 Eose you attempt to grow. 



MY MOTHER'S GARDEN 



By Henry C. L. Haskell 



The summer gardens are fair today. 

 But still my thoughts will drift away, 

 Trom their fragrant blossoms of varied hue, 

 To the dear old garden my boyhood knew ; 

 • I can close my eyes and see it yet, 

 With old-time blossoms in beauty set, 

 I can hear the music of bird and bee. 

 And this is the picture that comes to me : 



Fragrant Lilies and Hollyhocks, 



Bluebells, ]\Ionkshood, and Four-o'clocks, 



Larkspur and Morning-glories show. 



And Tiger Lilies in stately row, 



And the Honeysuckle that used to climb 



Above the window in summer time ; 



The Eoses crowding each thorny bush. 



The old, old, red ones, the white and blush, 



Xone more worthy of words of praise 



3Iid their regal sisters of later days. 



The hands that tended those blooms I know 



Were done with earth's labors long ago, 



And the eyes that watched their growth with pride 



Gaze in the gardens beyond the tide, 



On never fading flowers that expand 



In the light of God's beautiful summerland. 



Oh, the summer gardens are fair today, - 

 But still my thoughts will drift away 

 To the fragrant blossoms of varied hue 

 In the dear old garden my boyhood knew. 



