A GARDEN OF DELIGHTS. 



589 



taken. The streets and the paths and the lanes and the 

 by-ways are of sand. It is deep, and yields under foot 

 much as half-packed snow does. Locomotion is difficult 



In the Turn Verein Garden, Galveston, 



for the footsteps, and travel becomes toil and trouble. 

 There has been grass upon some of the paths, but it 

 was Bermuda grass, holding but slight tenure on that 

 light soil, wearing away quickly beneath the tramp of 

 the traveler and leaving but the merest apology for 

 sod. The beech, where the incessant beating of the 

 waves has made the sand hard and solid, gives the only 

 good footing, excepting, of course, the few streets in 

 the business portion of the town, which are well paved 

 with wooden blocks. But much can be forgiven the 

 spot where roses bloom the year around ; where the 

 oleander is used as a common hedge plant upon the 

 streets, and where the July temperature is 84°, while 

 that of December averages 58°. And not only are 

 roses in bloom here this month of December, A. D. 

 1890, but orange trees in the door-yards are yellow with 

 fruit, while the great brilliant blossom of the banana 

 lends color to the whole landscape, so huge and bright 

 it is. Parrots screech at one from open windows, and 

 thus, by some strange process of reasoning, lead us to 

 notice a lack that is common to so much of the south, 

 especially along the coast — the absence of singing birds. 

 Sometimes we hear an oriole, or the mellow note of the 

 nightingale, but it is infrequent at the best. 



Another thing that is conspicuous by its absence is the 

 magnolia tree, so common in all other southern cities- 

 There is nothing here to take its place for shade. The 

 hedges of oleanders are dense and pleasing, but not tall 

 enough to be of appreciative benefit as the sun gets well 



up in the sky ; and as for the sand or salt cedars, 

 their curiously dwarfed and twisted bodies, with the 

 merest apology for a canopy of foliage, only serve to 

 remind one of the curious efforts of the Japanese toward 

 dwarfing nature. These trees look as though they 

 might be a thousand years old, so mis-shapen are they, 

 and so thin and gray their tops. 



Landscape architecture here is a difficult accomplish- 

 ment, and nothing is undertaken on a large scale. The 

 vegetation is semi-tropical, and with its aid some very 

 pretty yards have been made, but they have usually an 

 artificial look. Two distinct methods obtain in horti- 

 cultural practice — one having a grassy lawn as the 

 foundation, with a few fine specimens of sago palms, 

 pritchardias, musas, etc., interspersed and bordered 

 with fine clipped hedges of arbor-vitas or privet. The 

 difficulty with these is to secure a good foundation of 

 green lawn as the basis, for the only grass which flour- 

 ishes here is the Bermuda, and excepting during the 

 rainy season, this is much inclined to turn to a yellow- 

 ish-brown instead of retaining the desired bright green 

 color of a perfect lawn. 



Opposed to these are the gardens in which roses and 

 other decorative plants fill all the space except that re- 

 served for walks. No grass is cultivated, and, as the 

 soil is light in color as well as texture, it does not give 

 the best basis against which to display the colors of the 

 flowers and foliage, and is, on the whole, less pleasing 

 than the other method. 



One point which we have tried to present in our illus- 

 trations is the open plaza on Broadway, where nurse- 

 maids wheel their infant charges in the cool of the 

 early morning, and where lovers stroll between the 

 rows of fragant oleanders in the soft warm nights ; and 

 another is the garden of the Turn Verein, a delightful 

 grassy, shady spot, just beyond the walled garden of 

 the convent of the Ursuline Sisters. As I sat there be- 

 neath a great live oak and smoked my pipe and emptied 

 a glass of light wine from the Brazos, I wondered if 

 the sounds of careless merry-making ever disturbed the 

 nuns at their prayers, or if we were worse because we 

 smoked and laughed, or they the better because they 

 built a high wall betwixt themselves and the world, and 

 counted their beads in silence there. 



James K. Reeve. 



A GARDEN OF DELIGHTS. 



OST people are too conventional in plant- 

 ing, and their pleasure grounds are too 

 much alike. One sees the same mock 

 oranges, lilacs, spiraas, deutzias and 

 honeysuckles everywhere, while the catalogues are 

 full of beautiful rarities that have only to be known 

 to be appreciated. 



Suppose one with a keen enjoyment of sweet odors 

 should say that in his garden nothing should exist that 

 was not fragrant. Designed with taste and properly 



laid out, such an enclosure would be a veritable garden 

 of delights. If his space permitted and he began with 

 trees, he would be surprised to find from what a long 

 list he could select. Did he desire evergreens, there 

 are the balsam pines and other aromatic conifers. For 

 deciduous trees, he might choose the liquid ambar, or 

 sweet gum, one of the most beautiful of trees, espec- 

 ially desirable for our perfume-loving friend when, in 

 the spring, it unfolds its fragrant leaves, filling the air 

 with pungent odor. 



Fit companions for this charming tree are the fra- 



