The Herb Garden 
109 
scent of leafage. It is impossible to describe to 
one who does not feel by instinct “ the lure of 
green things growing,” the curious stimulation, the 
sense of intoxication, of delight, brought by working 
among such green-growing, sweet-scented things. 
The maker of this interesting garden felt this stimu- 
lation and delight ; and at her city home on a 
bleak day in December we both revelled in holding 
and breathing in the scent of tiny sprays of Rue, 
Rosemary, and Balm which, still green, had been 
gathered from beneath fallen leaves and stalks in 
her country garden, as a tender and grateful atten- 
tion of one herb lover to another. Thus did she 
prove Shakespeare’s words true even on the shores 
of Lake Michigan : — 
“ Rosemary and Rue: these keep 
Seeming and savor all the winter long.’* 
There is ample sentiment in the homely inhabi- 
tants of the herb garden. The herb garden of the 
Countess of Warwick is called by her a Garden of 
Sentiment. Each plant is labelled with a pottery 
marker, swallow-shaped, bearing in ineradicable 
colors the flower name and its significance. Thus 
there is Balm for sympathy, Bay for glory, Fox- 
glove for sincerity, Basil for hatred. 
A recent number of The Garden deplored the dying 
out of herbs in old English gardens ; so I think 
it may prove of interest to give the list of herbs 
and medicinal shrubs and trees which grew in this 
friend’s herb garden in the new world across the sea. 
