164 
THE DROUGHT 
Timothy plays the hose on the near-by spots of the 
triangle, and takes buckets of water on a wheel- 
barrow to the beds farther away. Otherwise, 
many of our plants must already have died. It is 
even necessary to water the grass, to keep the little 
blades from turning yellow. 
I have been especially careful to keep the roses 
well watered, even though many of them have 
passed the height of their bloom. The Clios are 
still showing great profusion of flowers. They 
seem determined to have more of their blossoms in 
the fan than any offered by their neighbours. These 
Clio roses, as I mentioned before, were a very deli- 
cate pink when they first opened. Now, however, 
they have faded almost to white. Joseph thinks 
that this has been done by the fiery sun; but Mr. 
Percy, who I am sure knows best, says it is the 
habit of Clio roses to become pale as they grow old. 
I had never before thought of a rose growing old. 
I had noticed their fading and dying, but it seems 
strange to think that they do so because they are 
growing old. Roses always seem young to me, 
while pansies, I think, have an old look. 
I am almost sorry I planted so many Clio' roses 
near those of deeper hue. j^nother year I shall 
put them in a bed by themselves, away from the 
fan. Now, when looking over the rosarium, it 
is difficult not to give them too much attention, and 
to notice too little the more beautiful monthly 
roses. 
