THE MIXED BORDER 
IOI 
high. In these small beds grew snapdragons 
and pansies, brown, yellow, and purple ; forget- 
me-nots, pinks and carnations, the old crimson 
clove, and the white George Macquay, and 
sweet-scented geranium and many good annuals. 
The curious spicy fragrance of that garden 
comes to me now : the warm sun on the 
box, the Eau de Cologne-like bergamot, and 
the freshness of the lavender given out in 
waves of scent as the heavy bees brushed 
against the flowers. 
Both the above gardens could well be taken 
as the foundation for a small garden of a quarter 
acre. But it must be borne in mind that, 
where there is smoke, few perennials are 
seen at their best. Certain plants, such as 
iris of all sorts, seem to like smoke, and never 
bloom more freely than in a town garden. 
Carnations also, and all the “ pink ” tribe (and 
there are many worth growing). Delphiniums, 
day lilies, funkias, and many more are quite 
happy near a town. 
An object-lesson in growing plants in a 
London garden is afforded at Holland House, 
where the finest delphiniums may be seen ; 
and I wonder sometimes whether it is not 
the lack of cultivation and of right manures 
which stunt their growth in towns. Certainly 
