PARK AND CEMETERY. 
3U 
each plant is distinctly labeled too. In this section 
I was pleased to note Lonicera Heckrodti, it is not 
only a lovely variety but each flower cluster is 
borne on a nice, long stem, making it more availa- 
ble for cutting than most of the fragrant Honey- 
suckles. It was brim full of blossoms, too, on 
August 3, another point in its favor. 
Among herbaceous perennials, Clematis Davi- 
diana and Hibiscus Moschuetos were in flower, the 
latter being wonderfully effective ; which reminds 
me that I recently saw three varieties of Hibiscus 
in flower together with fine effect ; the white, crim- 
soned-eyed, clear rose-colored, and a lovely pale 
pink distinct in tone from the preceding variety as 
well as much lighter in shade. They made a 
charming group. To return to the Garden, 
Wigondia urens, a large leaved plant, struck me as 
quite ornamental, having perfect leaves from the 
ground up. 
Sweet Pepper Bush was in full flower and alive 
with winged insects. 
Despite the numerous set-backs of the season, 
aquatics at the Garden look well, perhaps never bet- 
ter, and are more attractively disposed than ever 
before. But after all I think there is nothing in 
the grounds as fascinating as the vines. A lime- 
stone wall, probably eight feet high, divides the 
Garden proper from the Arboretum and serves as a 
back-ground for a splendid growth of creepers and 
climbers; such as Wisteria now showing a second 
crop of flowers, common Trumpet creeper now in 
full bloom, Virginia creeper, and Vitisheterophylla. 
The last seems a desirable vine in every way. It 
climbs as do all grapes, by tendrils, so must have 
some support, but its foliage is always fresh, green 
and clean, and it bears a continuous crop of berries 
from early summer until frost, which, when ripe are 
so lovely in color that it is sometimes called the 
Turquoise berried vine. 
On a trellis against one of the green-houses a 
quantity of the Japanese vine, Dolichos lablab, 
bears an abundant crop of purple seed pods, even 
more showy than the lavender bean-like flowers, 
and, best of all, a most attractive drapery of Ipo- 
mea digitata (paniculata) veils the end of the fur- 
nace-house and is carried quite over the top of the 
brick chimney, the upper half of the vines set 
thickly with large trumpets of a peculiar rosy violet 
shade similar to the color known to fashion as 
‘ ‘emminence.” 
The entire flowering season has been rushed 
this year and a notable result of the unseasonable 
blooming of certain species is shown by Hydrangea 
paniculata grandiflora (in flower since about July 
15) its beautiful balls of bloom seared or scalded 
to brown unsightliness by the terrific heat of late 
July and early August, when for six successive days 
the mercury stood at from 96 to 99J^ degrees in 
the shade, and the torrid heat was almost past en- 
durance. Fanny Copley Seavey. 
Turkish Cemeteries. 
A Turkish burial place does not leave a feeling 
of melancholy and sadness upon the mind of a visi- 
tor, as ours do. It is not situated outside the 
city far from the noise and activity of daily life. 
No walls separate the habitations of the dead 
from those of the living, or protect them from the 
careless tread of the passer-by. The burial ground is 
often in the city itself, penetrating into the midst of 
a group of houses, introducing itself among the shops, 
cutting across the streets and often forming a contin- 
uation of the same. It is a place of constant traffic, 
a thoroughfare, with well worn paths trodden down 
by the feet of men and beasts. 
One goes to walk in such a place as a public 
garden. There the men lounge and smoke, the wo- 
men sit and gossip in the shade of the tall cypresses; 
bands of children play around and on the tombstones, 
shouting and screaming street sellers wander about, 
selling cakes and sweetmeats, fowls are picking a- 
round or dusting themselves; here and there a soli- 
tary ass or mule is grazing the scanty tufts of grass, 
while bands of houseless dogs are lying in the sun 
or in the holes in the ground where the soil has 
sunk, which give them rare shelter from the wea- 
ther. It is not rare to see a ropemaker plying his 
trade, with his cord stretched from tree to tree: 
and in spring, when carpets are taken up, they are 
carried as a matter of course to the cemetery, 
should one happen to be near, to be beaten. 
The cemetery of Pera, the “Grand Champ” and 
and the “Petit Champ” have been compared to 
the Boulevard des Italiens or the Bois de Boulogne, 
and the comparison is not a bad one. They form 
a favorite promenade, and on a fine day there is 
an endless string of vehicles, riders and pedestrians 
passing up and down, to see and to be seen. 
The cemetery of Scutari is the largest and most 
picturesque burial place in the East. It is a large 
wood of cypress trees, covering about a mile of 
rough, hilly ground, intersected by numerous ave- 
nues and covered with gravel stones. The trees are 
very unlike the poor little stunted specimens we 
are accustomed to see at home. Thanks to the 
heat of the climate they grow to an immense size, 
and their robust trunks, covered with the project- 
ing rib-like veins running lengthwise, resemble the 
groups of columns in a Gothic Cathedral. Their 
branches are short, abrupt, but nevertheless the 
tree grows in an elegant pyramidal form. — Spring- 
field Republican. 
