CHAPTER VIII
Hollyhocks and Violets
Hard by the Lover's walk, in an old-time bed, a blue Flower-de-luce, some roots of white and purple Phlox, a bunch or two of "Leaf-for-ever," and another of scented yellow Lilies, had long stoutly held their own. Here, every spring-time, the Lady caused to be planted her Dahlia bulbs—by no means the choicest of their kind, but taking amicably to the situation, and every autumn generously contributing their scarlet, lavender, and purple bloom to the color scheme of the big bowpots that adorned the side table in the "Mansion House" hall.
Four years ago, late in July, to deaden the pain of a new bereavement, I prepared this bed for the reception of a few dozen Hollyhock plants. It was the place suggested for this use by him who had left me, and with many tender thoughts of the beloved one I undertook the carrying out of his wishes. Removing to other quarters the old inhabitants of the bed "The Man with the Hoe" dug deep and spared not for manure. This done, on a cloudy day we set the young plants. It seemed a risky undertaking to transplant at midsummer, but, covered for a time from the sun and faithfully watered, they all adjusted themselves to their new home, and have, ever since, thriven to my heart's content. The bed is long and of moderate width. The plants were set in two rows, about one foot apart, and in the space between the outer rows we put, here and there, smaller plants. In late autumn they all had a covering of litter and boughs, and were made snug for their winter nap. As the situation is high and exposed to "all the airts the wind may blow," it was not without misgivings that I waited for the spring uncovering and the after development. In due time the hardy darlings showed their pretty green shoots, and before midsummer they stood up in budded rows, ready to be staked, and about the thirteenth of July the bed burst into splendid bloom. My color scheme called for but two colors, pink and white, and wonderful it was to see the shading of the roseate flowers, varying, as it did, from wine color to such faint pink as lives between the dainty lips of a sea shell.
On some stalks (more than eight feet high) the flowers came double as a cabbage rose; on others they were half double, and the out-and-out single ones had the sheen of satin and the transparency of gauze, and all were more or less creamy or lemon-hued at the center.
I think it must be from the old association of Hollyhocks with village Fourth of July celebrations that the flower has to my mind a distinctly festal appearance. Standing at the end of my bed and looking down the rows of pink and white is to me like watching a holiday procession. Not a commonplace ordinary one, keeping step to the music of a brass band, with doughty policemen hustling the hoodlums in its rear, but one of chaste and joyous maidens gowned gayly in pink and white, such as may of old have been led by "Jephthah's daughter," what time she "went forth with timbrel and dances" to meet her rash, exultant father fresh from his victory over Israel's uncircumcised foes. Yes, the Hollyhock, though lacking the delicacy of the Lily and the fragrance of the Rose, is a flower "most fair to see." The yellows and purples are both beautiful, but for massing give me the reds, pinks, and whites.
Sow in the seed bed each spring and thus have new plants to supply places made vacant in the show bed, and to bestow on neighbors who are starting rows of this fine hardy perennial.
Hollyhock—O E holihoc—"holy mallow"—"blessed mallow"—is probably so named because brought from the Holy Land.