From the rear' of the house arq two parallel pergolas covering brick walks and framing an exquisite garden vista. The columns are of concrete, with a double 
wood railing at the top, bearing traceries of clinging vines, ivy, wild fig and barren grape 
THE DOUBLE PERGOLA IN THE GARDEN OF MRS. J. N. BURNS AT PASADENA, CALIFORNIA—ADAPTING 
ITALIAN SETTINGS TO AN AMERICAN ATMOSPHERE—SUGGESTIONS FOR THE TREATMENT OF CITY YARDS 
Charles Alma Byer 
Photographs by 
TT seems hardly fair that all of us cannot wafk occasionally in 
Paradise—or a beautiful garden, which perhaps is the nearest 
thing thereto that earth affords. I first.was impressed seriously 
with this thought several years ago — one summer evening. It 
was while I was strolling in my own garden. My garden is not 
large nor elegant, but I often find it a great solace, especially 
after laboring all day in the noisy, bustling city. In fact, it is 
extremely simple, quite commonplace, but nevertheless it gives 
me great joy to stroll along its graveled paths and admire the 
Lenwood Abbott 
fragrant flowers in it. My own flowers—my own garden! 
Not far away rumbles the elevated, bearing to and fro its loads 
of human freight, and not much farther lie the tenements, with 
their somber fronts and loathsome alleys. I remember once, when 
my morbid curiosity caused me to wander into the district, I saw 
a lon.e geranium struggling for existence in an old rusty can sit¬ 
ting on a fire-escape. That was probably somebody’s garden. 
But I have somewhat digressed. I had started to say that I 
was strolling in my garden one evening, admiring the humble 
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