6o 
THE HEART OF A GARDEN 
With other departed glories I must count the hedge 
of guelder-roses, whose snowy heads swung gently to 
the breeze such a little while ago; and the pergola in 
the South Walk that showed so fair with its trailing 
clouds of blue honey-sweet wistaria and white innumer¬ 
able stars of the mountain clematis. Yet here the 
glories have not altogether taken flight, for, a little 
farther along, the leafy tunnel blossoms afresh with 
clematis stars of greater magnitude, and colours ranging 
from white to lavender, from rich sapphire to royal 
purple. I do not think my mixed borders, where 
annuals and perennials meet, have shown so much 
of gaiety before; I would not be ungrateful to past 
summers, but this year the seeds of April’s sowing and 
the older habitants alike would seem to combine in 
fresher, brighter harmonies than ever. This is Joyous 
Guard indeed; look where you will there is some new 
charm of colour and of grouping; it is all as dainty and 
various as a child’s country posy. Hosts of irises, 
bronze-pencilled and golden ; white; white laced with 
lavender; blues and violets clouded with white; lemon 
touched with primrose, they stand like fairy pavilions 
amid their broad green spathes. Very lovely and pleasant 
in their short lives are these emblazoned lilies of France, 
and, when their flowering season is done, they leave no 
uncomely relics, fading gracefully away from the life 
of the border, while their lusty leafage covers, and 
atones for, their retreat. ‘‘Summer’s a pleasant time. 
Flowers of every colour! ” And, indeed, my garden- 
plots to-day bear ample witness to the sincerity of that 
inspiration. 
