“We had to have the meadow mown and to dig it up, just along there,” said an energetic gardening neighbour to us the other day, pointing out with pride a dreadful stretch of raw and muddy earth that lay meaninglessly along the lush field. “And we think the things will do now.”
The things—poor little sprigs of white Violas, and other most unadaptable garden children—were looking very ill and faint at long distances from each other. And in any case, even if they were eventually to flourish, the meadow was quite beautiful enough in itself and needed no such adornment. But we had not the heart to tell her so. We said, “How nice that will be,” but took the lesson to ourselves.
TANTALISING NOVELTIES
A visit to the Horticultural Show at Holland House—even the humblest gardener can take away lessons from these displays of lavish beauty. We wonder whether it would be possible for us to have a pool anywhere upon our sandy height. And, if so, why should we not build rough rock-work round it on one side; fill it with the cool misty mauve of the Nipeta, the cool pale yellow spires of the Dwarf Mulleins, and the faint pinks of Spiræa; and against this background, walled about by a bank of the mysterious Iris “Morning Mist,” let a little slender lead statue rise out of the water? Coolness and mystery! Shall we ever encompass that delightful effect?... The flat flagged paths on the other side of the water should be bordered by Iris; and they should dip down into the pool itself, where just two or three Water Lilies should rock their gold-centred cups. Oh, dear! If we had sufficient money how beautiful we could make our corner of the earth!
Oh, and the Clematis!—It was a shock to find that we had to pay seven and sixpence each to go in, but it was worth it, for we have plunged to the extent of a dozen adorable Clematis from the very fountain head—if one can so strain the poor English language—of Clematis culture itself.
And the Roses! “Coronation,” a new bright scarlet climbing Wichuriana; Tausendschön and Blush Rambler, old favourites, but so beautiful! There were two or three pillars of unnamed seedlings, exquisite apple-blossom beauties, which we longed to purchase, but which were not yet in the market. A firmer, richer apple-blossom best describes the bloom of the new discovery.
Quite beyond our pockets, but most attractive, were the standard Ivies, golden and variegated, fifteen years old ... at the modest charge of six guineas each! Could we ever wait fifteen years to see such developments? After all, why not? The grower assured us they were perfectly hardy, and more they were cut the better. They would look charming on the terrace. Such balls of gold!
Lilies at the top of a rock-garden or at the top of a rough wall have a most charming effect.
We have invested in three and sixpence worth of new fertiliser guaranteed to “produce an appearance like dark green Utrecht velvet in ten days on the roughest lawn.”