Continued from inside front cover 
along the Bottom Road ... Picked and dreamed about the tight- 
fisted clusters of deep blue and rich purple long-stemmed violets 
gathered along the Mississippi River and carried home lovingly to 
my Mother. 
Breathed deeply and dreamed about the old-fashioned lilacs 
and Harrison’s Yellow Rose that seemed a part of every farmstead. 
Sighed over pink Dorothy Perkins rambler roses and later Dr. Van 
Fleet, for they made you think of June brides and weddings. Knelt 
as at a cathedral altar beside the fragrant clumps of ‘white flags” 
that spangled the edge of a willowed lake on which white swans 
rode... Of such fragments were the dreams of my childhood made. 
By the time I was a young lady finishing business training I 
knew that my dream was for a garden. Not just an ordinary, every- 
day garden, but one large and choice enough to hold all the flower- 
ing trees, shrubs and plants whose names and habits I had been 
memorizing from the time I learned to walk. 
When you know what you really want it is easier to make a 
dream come true. That is until a depression comes along and luxury 
dreams stop. But if the dream is a sound one, a deep-dyed real one, 
after the depression ends the dream again starts up, stronger for 
the respite ...In 1935 when my dream began again I knew it was 
largely for a single flower that by now had come to dominate my 
garden: a plant that seemed to weather every vicissitude and still 
come through with color flying each Spring—the tall bearded Iris. 
Now every dream must have a good fairy: often you will not know 
her until the need arises. I had a good fairy, oh, a very real flesh- 
and-blood one—the very best kind there is! My good fairy knew all 
about Iris: when I asked her, she told me about their ancestors and 
habits, who bred them and who grew them, how they should be 
grown and how they should be shipped ... Finally when I needed 
or wanted new Iris—varieties I didn’t see how I could possibly 
afford—my good fairy managed to see that they got into my garden 
... for she thought I would appreciate and take care of them.. .” 
And I did. 
The name of my good fairy, as some of you know, is Mrs. 
Douglas Pattison, owner of the famous Quality Gardens, now re- 
tired and living in California ... Through her guidance and more 
often kindness, Topnotch Gardens came inio being: there are 
thousands of Quality iris now at Topnotch, catalogued in this book. 
It has been nice to have had both a dream and a good fairy. To 
all who read this I hope Life has been equally as good. 
In the final analysis through the now permanent establishment 
of Topnotch Gardens I hope to be a worthy successor to the dear 
friend, understanding woman and eminent irisarian to whom this 
tribute is paid. 
Sincerely, 
Chesterton, Indiana DEANETTE SMALL 
May 1, 1946 
