The Garden Magazine, January, 1924 
271 
"HERE WE SPEND THE SUMMER DAYS” 
‘‘Not the least delightful of gardens are the friendly little ones, those opened into by kitchen and dining room windows 
and doors; where the hedge encloses a safe playground for the children and where the busy housekeeper may take 
much of the sewing and preparation of food to do it out-of-doors, sitting on a comfortable seat placed conveniently.” 
and of his feigning interest enough to ask, “Indeed, what 
color are they ? ” 
We chose our plants as we choose our friends, selecting the 
hardy perennials and rejecting the showy hybrids and novelties. 
But those first beds were soon crowded and there were still dear 
old perennials for which we had no room, so the next year we 
planted a narrow space all around the inside of the path, keeping 
its outlines, where it joined the sod of the lawn, curving and 
irregular, and these beds have since been enlarged. For the 
border of these beds on the lawn side I like nothing so well as 
the Day Lilies, with here and there a touch of Ageratum; with 
spikes of Delphinium and Madonna Lilies rising among the 
Matricaria and Daisies back of them, the effect is dignified and 
charming. 
There is a tall, well-trimmed tree near the centre of the grass 
plot under which are a table and chairs and here we spend the 
summer days and often eat our luncheon and tea behind the 
seclusion of the tall hedge. A bird bath on a pedestal three feet 
high brings thirsty birds all summer long where they drink and 
bathe free from the dread of lurking cats. A high trellis separ¬ 
ates the flower garden from the kitchen garden—so called more 
on account of its two colonies of bees than from any quantity 
of useful plants; Hollyhocks planted on the “kitchen side’’ 
show radiantly through the lattice. The kitchen garden has a 
few Currant bushes between which grow Everbearing Straw¬ 
berry plants and near the kitchen door is the herb bed of Mint, 
Sage, and Lavender. 
In one corner of the garden is a big Elm hung with a heavy 
Bittersweet vine, the latter a remnant of old woods days and, 
besides the trees, the only growing thing on the place when we 
bought it. After the tree had been well trimmed and the vine 
carefully secured to a trellis (for the Bittersweet is not a cling¬ 
ing vine) this corner was planted with Irises, which do well in 
the partial shade. An old-fashioned corner holds “Old Man” 
(Southern-wood), double Cowslip (Ranunculus), Anchusa, and 
Bleeding-heart (Dielytra); and in its sunniest spot, Tiger Lilies, 
Clove Pinks, and Sweet Williams. Other favorites are Colum¬ 
bines—all in opalescent shades and a joy in May—Poppies, 
Gaillardias, and Delphiniums and a bed of white Phlox against 
the brown trellis. In all the dark, out-of-the-way corners are 
Lilies-of-the-Valley and Forget-me-nots, and by seeding each 
year, a continuous stock of the biennials, Foxgloves and 
Canterbury-bells. A few Flax seeds taken from some bought 
for poultices and sown among the Poppies created a most charm¬ 
ing effect and looked as if they had sprung up “volunteer.” 
T HE owner of the small garden, having neither time nor 
space to waste on experiments and possible failure, is wise 
if he holds to the well-tried varieties of plants. In Roses we love 
the old favorites for their pleasant associations; the blooming of 
the Damask Rose sends us to the bookshelves for a peep into that 
odd little book, “Amos Judd,” for the sake of its “spirit of old- 
fashioned Roses,” not knowing whether we love the Roses more 
because of Amos Judd or Amos Judd more because of the 
Roses. Baltimore Belle, rugosa, and Richmond Roses are 
hardy favorites; the last blooms in June and again in October. 
We gather the last of its blossoms about Hallowe’en along with 
the hardy Chrysanthemums, although the Chrysanthemums 
often give us blooms as late as Thanksgiving—and that is the 
date set for the first Paper Narcissus blossom in the house so 
that there shall be no gap in blossoming time. 
An excavation of more than two feet, partly filled with old 
tin cans and such like rubbish for drainage, plenty of wood ashes, 
together with a tireless struggle against winter killing and 
aphides, have yielded us one corner sweet with such Roses 
as Frau Karl Druschki, George Arends, Gen. Jacqueminot, and 
American Beauty. For Climbers we have the old-fashioned 
Seven Sisters and the dainty Dorothy Perkins which blooms 
not in Roses but in bouquets of Roses, as many as thirty having 
been counted in one cluster. 
1 know that a very careful gardener would shudder at my 
methods. I have never been able to prune and cut as 1 should. 
1 sometimes have mediocre blossoms because I have not dared 
to cut away shoots which take strength from the plant. I sow 
seed too lavishly; my plants always come up in hordes. Thin¬ 
ning them is one of my trials. Who am 1, to play Caliban to 
