V 
“ANTICKE WORKS” 
S URELY the naive honesty of old-time speech has 
turned no happier combination than this, which 
designates all the alike, yet dissimilar, garden features 
for which we to-day have no general term. What 
other word or phrase could possibly convey the full 
idea so neatly? Where else in our language shall we 
find so true an expression of that rather labored play¬ 
ful spirit of the old garden makers, that was at the 
same time a little shamefaced and self-conscious? 
Not certainly among any of the words that seek to 
explain its meaning. “Odd, fantastic, fanciful and 
grotesque,” are none of them enough—yet they are 
too much. But even if their measure were exact, 
they carry none of the refreshment and delight which 
lie in the older, simpler descriptive. 
But American gardens have never been rich in “an- 
ticke works,” unhappily. Summer-houses and arbors 
seem to have been the nearest expression to a “sport- 
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