192 MY GROWING GARDEN 



Uncle Sam's children not able to appreciate and 

 admire these refined shades as well as our British, 

 Dutch and German cousins? I think so; and I'm 

 hoping to have some pilgrimages to my growing 

 garden next spring to see the tulips there planted 

 in the borders, in careful thought of color-con- 

 tiguity and with the fine background of the old 

 evergreen hedge. 



The *'species" or botanical tulips I may fail 

 with, since they are known to be impatient of 

 unsuitable places, and I have — as yet — no rock- 

 garden to provide root-coolness for them. But 

 I'm trying; and that is all I can do. 



It would take too much space to tell here the 

 story of the garden wall at Breeze Hill, and why 

 and how it grew. It was, and is, part of the 

 development of the idea, and my slowness to see, 

 my lack of foresight, have made it more expensive 

 and less satisfactory than it ought to be. It is 

 just possible that it will fall down, in part, if I 

 may take notice from certain suspicious cracks in 

 the careless masonry. If it does, I shall be pocket- 

 sorry and garden-glad; for when it goes up again, 

 on the very same lines, it will be a really truly 

 garden wall, with deep crevices for rock plants, 

 and a certain-sure foundation. I have been the 

 victim of the mason; I hope to be his master, next 



