OCR
RICHMOND AND VICINITY about two hundred yards away. It was elliptical in shape, with the broad side facing the house some hundred feet away. Ihe entrance was through a gate which always brought to the boy’s mind the wicket gate in ‘‘Pilgrim’s Progress.” Pyrus or cydonia japonicas, with their rich calico colors, grew on either side of this gate, and almost met overhead. Walks, leading lengthwise through the center and across, gave access to different parts of the garden, while borders for annuals and squares for tender plants abounded, convenient for the mistress or her daughter to plant or tend, when they chose to infringe upon the domain of Nat, the gardener. As the fiery acanthus glowed along the far side of the garden, the rose bushes shone as the most noted things within it. hey weré everywhere in almost wild profusion—George the Fourth, Giant of Battles, Hermosa, York, and Lancaster, damask and tea roses, and even the Hundred Leaf and Microphylla. This one came from Shirley, that from Cousin Anne at Hickory Hill, another from York, and that from Aunt Nelson at Long Branch, or from Cousin Thomasia at Mountain View. Cherished above them all, were the Offley roses—only wild roses which still bloom on the tenth day of each June. These came from the place of that name, five miles away, so charmingly described by the Marquis de Chastellux. Lilacs, syringa, forsythia, bridal wreath, and spiraea ushered in the spring with all their wealth of flowers, while violets, in cold frames and borders, with hyacinths, delighted the eye. Jonquils popping up in all directions gave the impression that the latter must enjoy some special privilege to be thus breaking out of bounds. A little later came the snow-balls, and then the poppies, after the peonies had gone. Sweet williams and wall-flowers; nasturtium and alyssum; phlox and pinks—not then called carnations— all had their place, while off in a moist quarter were gladioll and lilies of the valley, about which Philip Pendleton Cooke wrote in ‘Florence Vane.”’ [109 |