There is no real necessity for making the rose garden look like a graveyard through a large part of the year. Grass paths and sunken 
beds in which the bushes may be bent over, staked down, tied each to its neighbor’s base or to a stake and covered with straw or oak 
leaves, will solve the problem 
The Garden in Winter and Winter in the Garden 
PRESERVING THE CHARM OF THE GARDEN WHEN THE SNOW FLIES AND WITHOUT 
UNSIGHTLY PROTECTION—SHRUBS AND VINES THAT ARE COLORFUL IN WINTER 
by Grace Tabor 
[The last of a series of articles by Miss Tabor on the subject of landscape gardening as applied to the American home of moderate size. Preced¬ 
ing articles in the series have appeared under the titles: “Utilizing Natural Features in Garden Making” (Oct., igog); “Getting Into a Place” (Nov.); 
“Formal or Informal Gardens” (Dec.); “Screening, Revealing and Emphasizing Objects or Views” (Jan., igio); “Boundary Lines and Boundary 
Plantings” (Feb.); “Planting Trees for Air, Light and Shade” (Mar.); “Planting Shrubs for Mass Effects” (Apr.); “The Part Flowers Play in Gar¬ 
den and Landscape” (May); “Blending Architecture and Nature by Planting” (July); and “The Right Use of Evergreens” (Aug.). Questions relat¬ 
ing to further details and planting information will be gladly answered .— Editor.] 
T HE garden should be, always, a delightful place, “a very 
pleasant spot,” according to the old definition of the 
word, yet this is just what it seldom is in 
winter—not because of the winter, but because 
of our way of meeting the winter. The for¬ 
lorn dejection of rose bushes trussed up in 
straw until they look like tombstones leaves 
nothing of beauty or even cheeriness for the 
eye to rest upon during the long desolation of 
the winter. And rhododendrons enclosed with 
chicken-wire, with a litter of autumn leaves 
covering then and filling their cages, shows 
a distressing change from the summer’s royal 
splendor. 
All shrubs are of course hardy in their 
native clime; therefore the simplest way out of 
the question of winter protection of plants is to 
evade it altogether by using only native species. 
These will not need protecting. But it is useless 
to counsel such restraint as this; no one will 
practise it. for there are too many lovely things 
that grow in kindlier climes than ours and yet 
that may be grown here, “with winter protec¬ 
tion," for us to resist. So the next best thing 
is to study out a manner of giving this protec¬ 
tion with the least possible offense to the eye 
and the esthetic sense. 
The thought of it should always lie back of 
», - •• AnT 
Hemlock boughs will protect 
isolated plants that need it, 
without unsightliness 
every garden's arrangement—and every garden may be planned 
so that the protection of its delicate citizens need not present such 
difficulties as it commonly does. It is only a 
question of beginning right, just the same as 
practically all the other garden questions — be¬ 
ginning right and using common sense, along 
with a little ingenuity. 
First of all it is necessary to know just 
what is it that constitutes the winter's danger 
to vegetation. Commonly we think of it as 
being the cold and the snow and sleet and 
storms generally, but as matter of fact these 
are not as grave a menace to many things as 
the sunshine. The rays of the sun stimulate 
plants to premature activity if allowed to fall 
directly upon them on even what may seem a 
cold winter day; and this premature activity is 
what is so fatal. Winter protection is designed 
to keep warmth away from them—to keep 
them in the cold quite as much as it is to keep 
them from it—in other words, to keep them 
dormant during the season when they should 
be dormant. And the sunlight that is injurious 
to their tops is just as injurious to their roots 
— or the ground above their roots — for it 
thaws this after it has frozen and warms it 
too much during the middle of the day; then 
follows a chill when the sun sets and freezing 
(21.3) 
