My Friends in their Gardens 
friend could not walk as far as this, her favourite lane, she 
would send her grandchildren to gather great bunches of 
the Sweetbriar to fill her graceful glass vases. How fond 
she was, too, of Solomon’s Seal ! — -Our Lady’s Signet she 
used to call it. 
There was a great circular clump of that most grace- 
ful of flowers in the old garden which had been there from 
time immemorial, and she cherished it as the apple of her 
eye. None of the gardens of the neighbourhood could 
boast a similar treasure. Then there was the Holly-arbour, 
which in the Springtime was full of nests, with a favourite 
bed of blue Iris close by ; and the walk where the White 
Rose grew, which was said to be the real old Jacobite 
Rose, the presence of which formerly in a garden betokened 
that the owner loved Prince Charlie, just as to this day 
you can tell in Ireland where an Orangeman lives by the 
Orange Lilies cherished in his garden-plot. Some flowers 
look as if no interest can attach to them — notably Tulips, I 
used to think ; but after hearing one bed of these gorgeous 
flowers beneath a high red-brick wall always referred to as 
“ old Mrs. Brown’s Tulips,” I confess to having a certain 
tender interest in these flowers, planted long ago, as I dis- 
covered, by a lonely old lady who at one time had hired 
Corbie Hall for a few years from its owners. Then there 
was the Rock-garden, where were cherished many little 
varieties of Ferns — -the Crested Holly, Parsley, and Hay Ferns, 
and a tuft of sweet-scented Swiss Pinks, a keepsake to 
grandmama from a Swiss mountain-side, and in one corner 
a plot of grass with an old mossy sundial with the motto, 
“ Count the sunny hours.” Mrs. Brown’s advent was the 
beginning of the end. Rents went down, and it was no 
longer possible to keep up Corbie Hall, and the tenants lived 
to see their beloved Laird and his Lady in their old age go 
away to the great city which swallows up all the unfortunate, 
and the old place stood empty for a while with a board “To 
Let ” on the great stone gateway. And since this is an ower 
true tale of the Borderland, I cannot say, as I should like 
to do, that they came back rich and prosperous, and ended 
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