Two restrictions limited the choice of flowers—they must be white so that they could reflect the moonlight, or they must be most fragrant only in hours after dusk. 
a novel experiment, yet wholly successful 
My Moonlight Garden 
AN ENCLOSURE DEVOTED TO THOSE FLOWERS THAT ARE MOST FRAGRANT AFTER DARKNESS HAS 
FALLEN—AN UNUSUAL PLANTING OF WHITE ROSES, SYRINGA, STOCKS, PHLOX AND YUCCAS—FLOWER 
FORM AND SHADOW IN THE MOONLIGHT 
Caroline B. King 
P ERHAPS you are unfamiliar with the bower of blossoms 
that is sweeter by night than in the radiance of day. For 
years such a garden existed only in my fancy, but gradually the 
imaginary groupings of plants became so real, their spell so 
seductive, that I resolved, at last, to make my moonlight garden 
an actuality. 
I had observed that many of the prettiest flowers closed their 
petals in the evening, just when the day was mosf delightful; 
and, at the same time, I was aware that those flowers which 
remained open during the twilight hours gave out a fragrance 
more insistent than that of the daylight blossoms. Then there 
was a third class, which did not waken until after sunset, and 
these were sweetest of all. 
After thinking the matter over throughout an entire winter I 
resolved to put my idea into practice. But as I felt the under¬ 
taking to partake somewhat of the nature of an experiment, I 
looked about for a spot in which I might group whatever flowers 
I pleased, regardless of the effect the aspect of the little plot 
might have upon the general scheme and appearance of our 
whole garden. 
I selected a space of about twenty square feet at the extreme 
end of the main garden and separated from the road by an old 
stone wall, once a deep gray, but now faded to a pale fawn. 
It was just the appropriate background for the clusters of white 
blossoms with which I planned to adorn my moonlight garden. 
After an exhaustive search through seed catalogues and 
florists' manuals for flowers opening only at night, and finding 
the choice to be somewhat limited, I decided to supplement the 
list with others of abundant perfume, selecting, however, only 
those which did not go to sleep at night. I determined, too, to 
use only white flowers, and preferably single-blossoming varie¬ 
ties. For I had noticed that in these the fragrance is usually 
more pronounced and delicate than in those hearing double 
flowers; and that white flowers are usually far sweeter than 
those arrayed in gorgeous tints. 
Beside the old gray wall I planted white roses — the climbing 
Kaiserin Augusta Victoria and an old-fashioned white rose with 
a rich, permeating odor and creamy blossoms and a slight blush 
of pink at their hearts. The latter variety, I believe, is known 
as the Scotch white rose. 
Moon flowers — or, as the nurserymen call them, Ipomoea — I 
planted also to develop a fine drapery for the old wall, from the 
30 
