A TEA-HOUSE
CHAPTER III
THE TEA HOUSE IN THE GARDEN
There is a delightful imaginary intimacy that seemingly exists between we garden lovers who live in the twentieth century and those of early days. So closely are we connected by a common band of sympathy that we eagerly scan their books to glean here and there some important bit of garden lore that can be introduced into our work of to-day. It is this pleasant mingling of old and new-world gardens that gives to present-day designs such a delightful atmosphere.
One of the old-time floriculturists, John Lyle, tells us in his old-fashioned way, about the flowers that bloomed ages before our grand-dames were born. "Gentlemen," he says, "what floure like you best in all this border? Here be fine roses, sweete violets, fragrant primroses, gille floures, carnations, sops of wine, sweete John, and what may please you at sight." Surely we see in retrospect, the gardens of that early day, and we come more and more to realize that all through the ages, the hand of Man has fashioned nothing more beautiful than a garden of flowers. The most famous poets have not found any more ideal trysting spot in which to place their lovers.