3 2 4 
Old Time Gardens 
beautifulnesse deserveth the first place in this our 
garden of delight to be here entreated of before all 
other Lilies.’ He had good sense. It was not I 
who was stigmatized by him as Joan Silver-pin. He 
spoke very plainly and very sensibly of my per- 
fume ; there was no nonsense in his notions, he told 
the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the 
truth : ‘ The whole plant and every part thereof, 
as well as rootes as leaves and floures doe smell 
somewhat strong, as it were the savour of a foxe, 
so that if any doe but near it, he can but smell it, 
yet is not unwholesome.’ 
“ How different all is to-day in literature, as well 
as in flower culture. Now there are low, coarse at- 
tempts at wit that fairly wilt a sensitive nature like 
mine. There is one miserable Man who comes to 
this garden, and who thinks he is a Poet ; I will not 
repeat his wretched rhymes. But only yesterday, 
when he stood looking superciliously down upon us, 
he said sneeringly, ‘Yes, spring is here, balmy spring; 
we know her presence without seeing her face or 
hearing her voice ; for the Skunk Cabbage is unfurled 
in the swamps, and the Crown-imperial is blooming 
in the garden.’ Think of his presuming to set me 
alongside that low Skunk Cabbage — me with my 
‘ stately beautifulness.’ 
“ Little do people nowadays know about scents 
anyway, when their botanists and naturalists write 
that the Privet bloom is ‘ pleasingly fragrant,’ 
and one dame set last summer a dish of Privet on 
her dining table before many guests. Privet ! with 
its ancient and fishlike smell ! And another tells 
