98 
! Odds and Ends j 
From the Garden, f 
Yellow in the garden, such a glare of 
color on a sultry day as the bees hum 
lazily about the flower heads, such a 
Golden Glow in every yard in August 
and yet what more cheerful than the 
first yellow Crocuses that appear in a 
warm nook in early spring. Somehow 
if a flower is yellow I expect that it will 
thrive with little care and over-run my 
garden, but who does not treasure a 
yellow Peony, a golden Rose or creamy 
Gladiolus? 
Even as I write the greenish yellow 
Winter Aconite ( Eranthis hyemalis) has 
faded and only in shaded spots do I find 
lingering clumps of Crocuses, susianus 
with its bronzed reflex or Largest Yel- 
low true to its name. Anenome Ranuncu- 
loides, yellow but otherwise like our 
charming wild wood Anemones, is a 
nice warm tone and Doronicum caucasi- 
cum like a single Dandelion flower with 
its heart-shaped shining leaves is also, 
but I confess a dislike to the greenish 
tinge in the little Draba aizoides, the big- 
ger Alyssum saxatile in its varieties, and 
the wild Mustard, all Cruciferae. The 
Forsythias in some forms have this 
same tinge, but their gracefully sweep- 
ing branches and mass of color coun- 
teract my dislike and Kerria japonica 
particularly the single one makes a 
delightful small shrub for an informal 
planting. 
In the rock garden are the little Angels 
Tears, Narcissus cyclamineus and the 
miniature trumpets N. bulbocodium, 
while in the border are the first Jonquils, 
clumsy forerunners of their later breth- 
ren. Glory of Leiden among the big 
trumpets is my favorite, but I prefer 
the paler shallow cupped forms, Sir Wat- 
kin, Seagull, Lucifer, or even the ordi- 
nary conspicuus. Yellow Irises carry 
on the scheme. I throw out the olive 
shades which one finds in the much 
over-vaunted Pfauenauge. The buds 
on the yellow Peonies are showing and 
I am looking forward to my first blooms 
on Wittmanniana, and its hybrids La 
Printemps and Mai Fleuri on the creamy 
macrophylla and Mlokowiewiczii, ( What 
a name !) all of which I was forehanded 
enough to import before Quarantine 37 
barred the way. Though yellow has 
been the aim of many Peony breeders 
who knows but even I may be the one 
to win success with beginner’s luck. 
Think of it, dream of a magnificent 
creamy yellow Peony as fine as Jubilee, 
Lady Alexandra Duff or the new Amer- 
ican seedling Mrs. Edward Harding. 
There! I shall be involved in the fasci- 
nation of hybridization before I know it 
and I have hardly mentioned one plant 
to uphold my theory that yellows are 
easy growers. With June come the Yel- 
low Lilies. Would you believe it ? I have 
twenty-five named varieties of Hemero- 
callis, and though I confess I cannot yet 
tell them all apart, few things are more 
enduring of shade and neglect. There 
is the old Lemon Lily (Jlava) and the 
tawny orange (fulva ) which we find 
existent by many a big Lilac clump, the 
only symbols, save a half-filled cellar 
Obe ^flower (Brower 
hole, of an old-time homestead, H. 
Middendorfii is charming, while luteola 
pallida and Thunbergii may be com- 
bined with Larkspurs and Madonna 
Lilies so late are they to bloom. And 
that reminds me, Lilium croceum is also 
delightful with the Delphiniums and 
not at all difficult. 
But now I am months ahead ! In the 
spring garden there are some fine yel- 
lows for incidental use, potentillas, 
strong growing Buttercups and the 
vivid orange Globe Flowers ( Troillius ). 
I dare not venture into the Tulip realm, 
the dwarf starry dasystemon, the yellow 
Due van Thol and the small but much 
branched Turkestanica are already in 
bloom with a host to follow. The soft 
yellow Anthemis tinctoria Kelwayi 
though poor in comparison with the 
big Marguerites is a most harmonizing 
composite. There are dingy Foxgloves, 
most intriguing things because I am 
sure they would be effective if I could 
only place them properly, and soon after 
come the first of the Heleniums the 
orange-hued Hoopesii which unfortu- 
nately is not as rapid a propagator as the 
familiar autumnale varieties. These I 
thoroughly enjoy, one can depend upon 
them both to keep their place and give 
good bloom, the varieties with terra- 
cotta markings blend in well with Hardy 
Asters, there is a wonderful autumn 
effect in no time. 
Did you ever realize that in England 
these last, which they call Michaelmas 
Daisies, are replanted each year and 
that a single growth will, in good 
ground, give a mound of blossoms this 
very fall ? Let us go back to July, there 
is a pale yellow Delphinium Zalil a good 
companion to the chinense varieties. 
Sun-flowers and Heliopsis are all yellow, 
almost too rampart, there are low 
shrubby Helianthemums not over hardy, 
but such flower-full growers that I can 
never resist trying them, there are 
rather similar biennial Potenlilla hy- 
brids, both single and double and some- 
times with terra cotta markings, but 
never in my experience anything but 
second rate. There are Evening Prim- 
roses in soft tones, big wooly leaved 
Verbascums, common Mullein hybrids, 
Chrysanthemums, Poppies, Roses, Sil- 
phiums and Senecios, an endless list, but 
I am running out of space, not subject 
matter, and I do want a word on how, 
and when, and where, I like my yellows. 
Though a strong yellow goes a long 
way in my garden, the soft, clear, pale 
yellows are indispensable. I know 
nothing more antagonizing than masses 
of brilliant color down by the shore 
with arid wastes of sand and not a bit 
of shade, nothing more delightful than 
a sudden glimpse of glowing tones as 
we walk along a shaded walk. It is not 
that I want to visit such a garden even 
then, but the very contrast of cool shade 
and warmth and flickering sunlight 
gives one a pleasant feeling of thank- 
fulness. How often our mood, our con- 
tentment, is due to the contrast of what 
is just past, or just ahead. It is thus 
that I enjoy such a garden in the ener- 
vating days of summer. 
In planning color combinations I al- 
ways think back to Miss Jekyl’s “Colour 
in the Garden.” Who of us has not 
June, 1920 
tried out at least one of her suggestions, 
but often our path is beset with difficul- 
ties, there is sometimes a difference in 
time of bloom, sometimes plants prove 
hard to grow and always there seems 
to be a lack of patience in handling. 
We Americans have few of us developed 
such a wonderful care for details in the 
placing and the training of our garden 
material. 
Once in a while I happen upon a small 
success. That Oenothera var. Youngii 
and crude magentas looked well in a 
shady border was a distinct discovery, 
equally contrastive are yellow Lilies 
and claret Irises, or yellow and purple 
Crocuses but far more enduring is the 
pleasure I derive from using pale yel- 
lows, perhaps Tulip vitellina that fades 
to cream or the exquisite Moonlight 
with the pale gray-blue of Veronica gen- 
tianoides and a bit of the blood-red tulip 
King Harold. Yellow with lavenders, 
terra cottas or dull reds, sometimes 
with rich purples such as Aster Novae 
Angliae are very possible but beware 
of anything except a pale yellow with 
pinks for in strength is discord. Im- 
mediately you will say, “ What about 
Roses?” Ah! there is a harmony of 
smooth texture, often a blended grada- 
tion of tints and I defy you to name a 
Rose that has the crude yellow of a sun- 
flower. 
I wonder if you know Dr. Ross’ 
“ Theory of Pure Design,” one of the 
dryest things to read I know and yet it 
gives the great underlying principles of 
harmony and contrast, and of the two 
the first in color at least, is by far the 
safest for garden use. Harmony need 
not be monotony, I have not much sym- 
pathy for uni-coloured schemes but in 
your garden combinations let neigh- 
boring plants possess some qualities in 
common. Take a lesson from nature, 
how few Peonies, Irises, Roses, Delphin- 
iums or Asters do not look well each 
with its kind. It is not wise to try sal- 
mon and magenta Phlox but in plants, 
at least, relationship is often a safe 
guide. 
“ Odds and Ends ” surely a proper title 
for such a haphazard jumble of notes. 
R. S. Barre. 
The Garden O’er the Way. 
By J. H. Brayman. 
My neighbor, in a garden o'er the way, loves flowers. 
And morn and noon and evening time each day 
She's bending over little bowers, 
Where grow, nursed by her tender care, 
Are flow’rs my mother loved ; and far away 
Across the desert years there comes a face, 
Not beautiful, perhaps, yet with the grace 
God gives to those who love and tend His flowers. 
She strewed them by the wayside of the living ; 
She waited not the ‘ narrow home ” and bier ; 
Her joy was ever to be giving 
Her treasures to the loved ones who are here. 
And children’s happy faces oft would greet her. 
As smiling, on their homeward way from school, 
Big hazel eyes would speak as they would meet her. 
And flowers would pledge the reign of love’s sweet 
rule. 
Though my neighbor, in her garden o’er the wayside,. ! 
May never know how often I may dream 
Of those bent hands, long resting from their labors, 
I look beyond her flowers, and I seem 
To look across the years, and woods, and meadows; j 
Beyond a life, across a river wide ; 
And bending,— like my neighbor,— o'er the flowers, 
A mother’s form, upon the other side 
I seem to see, and seeing, say. 
"I’m glad they have their gardens o’er the way.” 
