toward Spain, and watch the harbor, mist-wreathed or sail-ridden, 
and blue as the sky above it. There is another pool on this terrace, in 
which the moon sometimes deigns to shine, and once a group of white 
lilies consented to reign here for a season. A purple clematis hangs 
over one corner, and two or three dwarf pines break the line of the 
low cement wall. 
We have not yet come to the flowers in this so-called garden. 
There are many wild ones. First, the dog-tooth violets, then the wild 
roses and daisies, and later, golden-rod and asters. Otherwise there 
are only two small beds of roses, a long border of phlox, and a bed of 
hehotrope. All these are domesticated along with the vegetable 
garden, below the studio. Except the phlox, they are not decorative 
but iQ their sheltered placing have a comfortable air of their own, not 
without charm. 
Perhaps it may be interesting to rose growers to hear that from a 
Lady Pirrie, planted in June, — I, the following November, picked a 
bud on a very rich mahogany-colored stalk, with dark green leathery 
leaves. This bud, standing in a glass vase and abundant water, 
opened until it was six inches across; separate petals measuring three 
inches each way. Its perfume and color had all the exquisite majesty 
of high birth, and in queenly state it received the homage of the 
household and guests for more than a week; but its chief guardian 
and servant had many sweet private moments with it, changing the 
light for fresh views of its noble contours. 
Flowers that are Wild 
E. B. BiSSELL 
Years ago Harper^s Magazine pubHshed one of Peter Newell's 
humorous drawings. Words can only suggest it: In a corner of a 
shady wood grew a shy little plant; a goggle-eyed child shrinks back 
from it in horror, crying, "I'm afraid of those flowers; they are wild!" 
Today all nature-lovers are afraid for the flowers that are wild. 
While the cultivated flower increases, the native flora slowly disap- 
pears. Why is it that people who pretend to love flowers are the wild 
flowers' greatest menace? "To have loved the wild rose and have 
left it on its stalk" shows self-denial. Few persons practise it. 
In California flowers are especially in danger. Travellers from cold 
climates come to this State to enjoy the early springtime, and finding 
wild things blooming in abundance they see no reason why they 
should not pick them. If they do not pick them, they can easily be 
bought from the Kttle merchants offering their wares on street-corners 
or by the roadside. During the Spring, bouquets of Brodieas, held in 
small, hot hands, are a common sight in Santa Barbara. 
lO 
