May, 19 21 
67 
At the end of a short brick walk hedged with clipped 
Van Houtte’s spirea is a dull green wooden arch over 
which climb pink rambler roses. At the left, as you 
look through the gateway from the space of turf and 
dwarf mountain pine without, is Lady Gay, and at 
the right, Paradise 
With the setting of the sun the incomparable 
fragrance of Lilium Regale, fresh and delicate 
as that of heliotrope, pervades the garden. 
Thus crowning the glowing trumpets and white 
pointed petals of the blossoms, it makes Regale 
the finest of the lilies 
MY GARDEN IN 
MIDSUMMER 
July and August Blossoms 
and Color Combinations 
MRS. FRANCIS KING 
I T HAS suddenly burst upon my inner 
vision that the pale and bright pink 
climbing ramblers have no place to¬ 
gether in my perennial garden, unless used 
as they sometimes are most happily, tumb¬ 
ling over walls in great masses, near equally 
sumptuous masses of pale blue delphiniums, 
with few or no other flowers to distract. 
The thing which brings me to the afore¬ 
said unpleasant conclusion is the present 
appearance of one of the gates of our 
garden. It is a dull green wooden gate, 
with an upper arch and a solid door. The 
frame of the gate is of trellis, and today 
this trellis is completely smothered by, to 
the left, Excelsa, and to the right, Lady 
Gay. Masses of these little round roses are 
blooming as the gentle cow gave milk in 
the nursery rhyme, with all their might. 
Below this arch of roses lies the little formal 
garden, with many things in bloom, del¬ 
phiniums dark and light, lilies, Shasta 
daisies, violet salvias and petunias, phloxes 
coming and also gypsophila and a few pale 
pink ramblers. The expanse of color on 
the gate posts is out of place. It gives the 
look of the cover of a seed catalogue of 
about 1890. No, this is no place for my 
ramblers, fine though they are in themselves. 
I walk to the upper garden from this 
lower, turn to the left, where at each end 
of a short walk of brick hedged with clipped 
spirea Van Houtteii there are two of the 
same well designed arches, such as I have 
mentioned. These two are wreathed in 
pink ramblers, Lady Gay and Paradise; 
beyond this walk is not only smooth turf, 
but a fine growth of dwarf mountain pine— 
and it is here that the little rose comes into 
its own. It is seen only near and against 
green—or as one looks at it from another 
angle, perhaps against the blue sky itself— 
(Continued on page 72) 
