FOREWORD 
When the idea of this book first came to me, long 
ago, suggested by the question that has continually 
been asked me by a great many people, it shaped 
itself in my imagination as something very dif¬ 
ferent from what I now find the actuality to be. The 
sorcery of the phrase was upon me; and I never 
dreamed that “old-fashioned gardening” could lead 
me on other than a gentle, sweet and sentimental 
pilgrimage through flowery ways, along which fine, 
shadowy figures flitted to keep me goodly, if ghostly, 
company. 
For it has been a term to conjure with for many a 
day—to lead the fancy along paths of pleasant dalli¬ 
ance through whose dim distances the laughter of 
dainty dames in powder and patches echoed against 
the deeper tones of bewigged gallants with whom they 
coquetted. But to tell the story of gardening has been 
very different than to dream of it, I find. Peopled 
with these delightful shades the old nooks and corners 
are, to be sure: but of the truth about their flowery 
retreats they will tell nothing. They only laugh when 
urged to seriousness, and disappear with a flash of 
bright eyes, a twinkle of high heels and a clatter of 
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