House & Garden 
always something unexpected and refreshing 
in the quiet glades, we finally emerge from 
the woods to meet again the busier life in 
the garden, where the laborers pause in 
their work to eye the passing strangers. 
The day is drawing to a close, yet we feel 
as if we were but getting acquainted with 
Aranjuez, and we long to explore further 
and learn more of the charms of this rarely 
visited land. 
The question will recur —why is this at¬ 
tractive garden spot so little known? Why, 
in these davs when the interest in gardens 
has so greatly revived, and so many books 
are being written on the subject, do we read 
so little of the attractions of Aranjuez? 
These questions arose in our minds as we 
walked reluctantly to the station, and puzzled 
our brains as the train bore us slowly back 
over the plains to Madrid, and we left 
behind all but the memories of that ideal 
May day. 
Perhaps there are several answers. In the 
first place, Central Spain is as vet far removed 
from the beaten track of European travel. 
Its railways are anything but convenient, 
and especially so should one depart from 
the chief lines. Again, the guide-books, 
as a rule, are enough to chill the marrow 
in the strongest bones. If taken alone, 
they would seem to make the trip to 
Aranjuez scarcely worth the while. They 
speak of gardens in great neglect and 
weedy ; fountains dried up and unswept 
paths strewn with leaves; the general air of 
the place deserted and forlorn. One grows 
rather suspicious, however, as to whether 
the authors ever actually investigated for 
themselves, for the accounts in two guide¬ 
books are almost identical, word for word. 
Both conclude in the following pathetic 
manner: “And well may we exclaim with 
Schiller, — Die schonen Dage in Aranjuez 
sind nun zu Ende. From a historical point 
of view, no doubt this is true; but after 
days on the arid wastes and barren plains 
of the surrounding country, it comes as 
a relief to the traveller, to find again the 
green trees, to breathe the cool air from 
the woods, and to listen to the splash of 
the turbulent waters. Could Schiller but 
have been there on such a day as we had, 
could he have wandered as we did, along the 
shaded paths, among the fragrant flowers, 
surely then he would have written—“ that 
glorious days in Aranjuez still exist for 
those who love nature in one of her most 
attractive forms—the garden.” 
541 
