In English gardens they are said to thrive well, which may, in part, be due to better climatic conditions.
In my borders the Candidum takes the front seat. Here and there I make place for L. Tigrinum (the well-known tiger-lily). In shady places sits the Day Lily. I have a single plant of the tall Nankin-colored Lily, variously named (Lilium Excelsum, Testacum, Isabellinum). The stalk is sometimes nearly five feet high, and produces from three to twelve reflex flowers of a dainty Nankin hue—delicately shaded and fragrant. In flowering it immediately follows the Madonna. The Excelsum is not of Japanese origin. How, when, or where it was born is yet unknown.
It is said to be easy of culture, and this season I intend to remove mine to a less crowded situation, as I should long ago have done, but for dread of taking chances with the one plant.
There may be a garden where Nankin Lilies are "thick as blackberries," but it has been my fortune to see but one plant, and I have found that the flower is a stranger to all who have met it in my border.
The Nankin Lily came from our Cambridge garden, and presumably was originally grown in the Harvard Botanic Garden. I have, too, the old-fashioned, sweet-scented, early-blooming Yellow Lily. I have never known it by its Latin name, but believe it to be Hansoni—a Japanese lily, as it answers in every particular to the description of that plant.
Were the flower more lasting it would be more desirable. Its bloom, which comes in clusters, has, singly, but the short life of a day.
With delight I found this dear lily of my far-away childhood in one of these old-time borders.
It is perfectly hardy, and wonderfully prolific in bulbs. My garden has now scant room for all its Yellow Lilies, and this after friends and neighbors have kindly relieved me of some of this "embarrassment of riches."
The Lilies-of-the-valley must be kept to their own beds, where they double and treble themselves incontinently. Last, but not of least place in my heart, comes that flower thus charmingly vended by "Perdita"—in "Winter's Tale"—
"Lilies of all kinds—the Flower de Luce being one."