72 MY GROWING GARDEN 



in the shady corners at Breeze Hill to which in a 

 few hours they were transplanted. But I have 

 done my best to save for remembrance some, at 

 least, of this finest of Pennsylvania orchids. At 

 Eagles Mere I am sure of it, at all events. 



Those five distinctive horse-chestnuts that 

 guard the Breeze Hill home, of the tree-doctoring 

 of which I have written, are now in their great 

 glory of bloom. I wish I knew how to picture in 

 words the detailed loveliness of the horse-chest- 

 nut's foot-long panicle, made up of flowers of 

 complex form and dainty coloring. With the 

 liriodendron or tulip, this tree may well be said to 

 make blooms as fine as any orchid. 



In Lovers' Lane the conditions are not yet 

 ideal. The hardships to which the great arbor- 

 vitaes that inclose it were subjected before I came 

 to own the place, have caused many of them to 

 die. Four Norway maples had grown up in their 

 very midst, crowding out the evergreens, and 

 sucking dry the soil around those that survived. 

 Two of the maples I have cut down and cut out, 

 and their numerous progeny of husky seedlings I 

 have pulled out. 



At the worst breaks in the hedges, I have 

 planted native rhododendrons — after repeated fail- 

 ures in the endeavor to have replacing arborvitaes 



