Oldal 136 [136]
OCR
EGE EVET ND, [ALNDEÁÉS T NKTÉV 7 a. —_=— = = ae e —-- —— The outlines of the terraces repeat the lines and curves of the house and portico, making it, indeed, a living extension of the house itself. This was the place of the confidential talks, the intimate unrestrained life—the out-door living room. Old-fashioned brick walls invitingly lead one under rosearched pathways to a refreshing pool and fountain in the center, which is guarded on three sides by marble forms of the goddesses of Beauty, Flowers and the Harvest. From these radiate paths around parterres filled with every old-fashioned flower which can now be coaxed into bloom by the skillful hands of its present loving caretaker, who says she receives each season plants and seeds from numberless appreciative guests who have visited the house and loved the garden. All do not thrive, alas! For the trees have grown since the days the builder first planted them there and the garden is now one of shade and sifted sunlight. We find an amazing variety of plants for so small a space and of course among them the “vine and fig tree,’’ indispensable, it seems, to ‘‘ye olde time garden." In the far corner a tall, magnificent magnolia grandiflora planted in 1807 looks like a giant candelabra shining and shimmering when it carries its full load of ‘pure white blooms from base to top; then fragrance and perfume spread like incense all through the garden. The garden seems to recall the life of a hundred years ago even more vividly than does the beautiful house, and to speak even more eloquently of the charm and elegance of the ladies and gentlemen who then enjoyed it. The fragrance of flowers, the ripple of water, the witchery of half-concealed marble forms, the romance of moonlight, the poetry of the past are still there. No better model can be had to this day for a city garden. The ivy-covered brick walls, the arched gateway to the side, the curved and straight paths, a hedge here, a clump of shrubs there, an archway or vine-clad column yonder! The trick is turned, exclusion in the midst of crowds, complete! LAURA C. MARTIN WHEELWRIGHT. [83]
