edged; and a neater or a lovelier
border could not be imagined.

With such a tiny space of ground the choice of roses is very important.
Hybrids take up too much room for general service. One must have a few
for colour; but the mass should be Teas, Noisettes, and, above all,
Bengals. This day, the second week in October, I can pick fifty roses;
and I expect to do so every morning till the end of the month in a sunny
autumn. They will be mostly Bengals; but there are two exquisite
varieties sold by Messrs. Paul--I forget which of them--nearly as free
flowering. These are Camoens and Mad. J. Messimy. They have a tint
unlike any other rose; they grow strongly for their class, and the bloom
is singularly graceful.

The tiny but vexatious lawn was next attacked. I stripped off the turf,
planted drain-pipes along the gravel walk, filled in with road-sweepings
to the level of their tops, and relaid the turf. It is now a little
picture of a lawn. Each drain-pipe was planted with a cutting of ivy,
which now form a beautiful evergreen roll beside the path. Thus as you
walk in my garden, everywhere the ground is more or less above its
natural level; raised so high here and there that you cannot look over
the plants which crown the summit. Any gardener at least will understand
how luxuriantly everything grows and flowers under such conditions.
Enthusiastic visitors declare that I have "scenery," and picturesque
effects, and delightful surprises, in my quarter-acre of ground!
Certainly I have flowers almost enough, and fruit, and perfect seclusion
also. Though there are houses all round within a few yards, you catch
but a glimpse of them at certain points while the trees are still
clothed. Those mounds are all the secret.

II.

I was my own gardener, and sixteen years ago I knew nothing whatever of
the business. The process of education was almost as amusing as
expensive; but that fashion of humour is threadbare. In those early days
I would have none of your geraniums, hardy perennials, and such common
things. Diligently studying the "growers'" catalogues, I looked out,
not novelties alone, but curious novelties. Not one of them "did any
good" to the best of my recollection. Impatient and disgusted, I formed
several extraordinary projects to evade my ignorance of horticulture.
Among others which I recollect was an idea of growing bulbs the year
round! No trouble with bulbs! you just plant them and they do their
duty. A patie