As I sat in my garden one fine evening in late June of the year just gone, my eye wandered over near-by heads of pale-pink peonies, and beyond other white ones, to a distant corner where a rather unusual color effect had appeared. At the back of this flower group was a tall dark-blue delphinium, name unknown; to the right stood the charming one La France, its round flowerets set thickly and evenly up the stem, their general tone a pale pinkish-mauve. Directly below La France the fingered stems of the lovely perennial foxglove, Digitalis ambigua, were to be seen. Beside the buff foxglove masses of the purple-blue Campanula persicifolia, erect and delicate, had place, and the foremost flowers of the group were gay single pyrethrums, with a high light in the presence of a few of the common white daisies. In the warm evening light the flowers seemed to take on a new aspect. The blue of the tall larkspur spires had acquired a translucent quality; the little Annchen Mueller roses set thick against opening gypsophila glowed like rubies; the great white peonies flushed in the setting sun till one might fancy that Festiva maxima had magically become that beauty of beauties in peonies, Madame Emile Galle.

A few particularly fine delphiniums have this. year attained special perfection in the garden, in better shades of light blue than any before seen here, except perhaps for the blue of the old favorite Cantab and the fine Madame Violet Geslin which a year ago was a revelation. La France, elsewhere described, gave great delight. Kelway's Lovely was remarkable for its overlaid petals of palest blue and palest lavender. The beauteous Persimmon, too, was there; its color so truly sky-blue that when a flower was held against the heavenly canopy of a fine summer's day, it seemed to disappear, to melt into its own hue. One could wish that handsome spring-blooming thing, muscari Heavenly Blue, relieved of its present ill-fitting name and the pretty title bestowed instead upon delphinium Persimmon. This it in very truth describes.

One of those discerning friends who send details of flowers seen afar off, wrote from England the first news of the two delphiniums shown facing page 164; these were prize-winning flowers at the Holland House show of 1913, and first shown in 1908. On the left is a marvellous spike of palest sky-blue and lavender Statuaire Rude. The enormous size of the flowerets and the manner in which they range themselves loosely up the stem, joined to a rare beauty in soft color tones, give this delphinium a peculiar distinction. In the Make, at the right of illustration, petals of the richest blue are overlaid by others of richest violet, affording an effect entirely unique and entirely sumptuous: delightful to record, the flower is named for an Indian potentate! The celebrated "what" that's in a name never troubles me so much as in this matter of flower nomenclature. Most women gardeners who are readers, too, are sensitive to the fitness of flower names. I have been ever averse to the naming of flowers for individuals, unless the individual so honored shall have rendered some service to horticulture. In the terminations "Willmotti," "Sargentii," and other such, we rejoice; similarly in "nigella Miss Jekyll," "peony Baroness Schroeder"; these bring most properly and with a certain mental stimulus to our recollection those whose gardens, whose scientific knowledge, or whose writings have been of world-wide value to the gardening public. But I could not bring myself to buy a Japanese iris yclept Hobart J. Park — no, not unless some account of Mr. Park, his tastes and his doings, should accompany his name in the plant list. Nor do I find the name of J. G. Slack peculiarly inviting when attached to one of that same poetic tribe of iris. Do seedsmen name flowers for good customers? I mightily fear it! Names, to be perfection, should first carry some descriptive quality, and next they should be words of beauty. Many examples might be given: Dawn, most aptly fit for the lovely pale-pink gladiolus which it adorns; Capri (a name, of course, to conjure with), a true felicity as a name for a delphinium of a ravishing tone of sky-blue; Eyebright, for that wondrous daffodil with scarlet centre; Bonfire, for the salvia's burning reds; Lady Gay, the happiest hit in names for that sweet little rose which will dance anywhere in the sun and wind of June.

A sight most lovely is, of a summer's evening, to see Delphinium Moerheimi lifting its white spires of flowers against a green background of shrubbery with a blue mist of sea-holly below it, and in the foreground, rising from gypsophila masses, other spires of richest rose-pink hollyhock. White and lavender phloxes in the middle distance add to the charm of this picture. Tapis Blanc, and Antonin Mercie, and the little dark balls of box-trees, and the blooming standard Conrad F. Meyer roses with their formal flavor, are agreeable accessories, really enhancing the beauty of the freer flower masses.

As each summer appears and waxes, I think I have found the companion for sea-holly. One year it was phlox Coquelicot or its brilliant brother R. P. Struthers; another year phlox Pantheon was my favorite for the honor; while last year I was entirely captivated by the effect of the annual Statice bonduelli, primrose or canary-yellow, with the blue-gray eryngium. But this season a large group of the sea-hollies chanced to bloom beside another group of pentstemon, and a happy alliance it was, quite the happiest of all. The brilliant color of the pentstemon, Pentstemon barbatus Torreyii, found its perfect concomitant in the cloudy blues of the eryngium, and the two together formed a satisfying spectacle. This pentstemon, not one of the newer hybrids, I also liked for use in the house, especially when rising from bowlfuls of the creamy heads of Hydrangea arborescens; the effect, a severe contrast, was good. The pentstemon is a trifle too near scarlet to be welcome in my garden — it must remain without the gate; but in gayer gardens than mine it should always have place. Lovely it would surely be above mounds of cream-white zinnias in full bloom with a sweet pea like Barbara rising back of the pentstemon.

Sea-holly! I could sing its praises for pages! Sea-holly has never seemed to me to find its perfect companion for cutting until, in the trial garden, acquaintance was luckily made with the annual Stance sinuata bonduelli. Stance ineana has here been known and loved; Statice latifolia, that beautiful violet statice which ladies buy on Edinburgh streets; but Stance bonduelli, with its delicate yellow blooms, became in a day a prime favorite. The loveliness of its foot-high branching stems covered with tiny canary-yellow flowers, when cut and held against the bluish sea-holly, can hardly be imagined. Gypeophila paniculoia, the double variety, is good with the two, but possibly the pair are best alone. For out-of-door effect the statice should not be overlooked; though its stems are rather sparse, its leaves entirely basal, it is nevertheless a treasure, and a charming result occurs when the later mauve variety blooms, with many heads of a new pale-yellow centaurea gently forcing their way to the sun through the tiny lavender statice blossoms.

Gladiolus primulinus hybrids are a delight to the "garden soul." Exquisite soft tones of pale yellow with now and again , some spikes of a pale flame-pink, they are most lovely as they grow, while for cutting, used with Stance bonduelli and the double gypsophila, nothing could be more attractive. Add to your arrangement of these flowers a cluster of that enchanting sweet pea, Sterling Stent, you shall rejoice in what you have created. Sterling Stent! I betray a valuable gardening secret when I tell of him. His color, according to the French chart, is Lague de Garance from 1 to 4 with occasional tones of Rouge pêche 4. Beautiful beyond description is he, and he fadeth not in sun!

And now a word concerning a certain double rose-colored annual poppy, a poppy which has become a rose-pink essential to this garden. One of Sutton's hollyhocks, a double pink of the exact tone of these poppies (chart, all shades of Rose Nilsson), has made a picture here and there, lifting its tall stems set with rich pink bosses of rosy petals above the rounding gypsophilas in whose lacy masses some poppies softly bloom. So like are the poppies to the individual hollyhock flowers that it is as if some of the former had whimsically decided to grow along a hollyhock stalk. If one were to try for this effect, a new gladiolus, Display, should be freely used within the range of vision here; and the beauteous sea-holly would again prove its high garden value if groups should be set in this picture. Among the pink poppies I very much fancy the white platycodon, P. grandiforum album; the pearly tone of these flowers charming with the gay poppy-blooms, and the platycodon's smooth pointed cups affording an interesting contrast to the other's soft fulness of fringed silk. Gladiolus Display among sea-holly could not but be excellently effective. It is a gladiolus of rare beauty.

Let us not pass by the Oriental poppy in our consideration of the flowers of the poppy tribe. In the latitude of Boston the fresh pale-green tufts of the former may be discovered in early April, a heartening and lovely sight as the last snows of winter are vanishing before the spring sun. These have formed in the previous autumn, but this perennial has a constitution to withstand the severest of winters. Here is a flower which does well in any good garden soil, though sunlight is its prime necessity. Equally vital to its well-doing is its transplanting when dormant in August or September, or so I used to think. I know now, after some experimenting, that the Oriental poppy can be safely moved in spring as well.

Until two years ago, when some of the varieties of this flower of recent introduction were revealed to me, I was ignorant of the development of the flower.

Princess Victoria Louise, the huge bloom of a delicious rosy-salmon hue, was a sensation. One who enjoys the delicate suggestion of thin flame should stand before this flower transported with delight. And now the list of Bertrand H. Farr, of Wyomissing, Pennsylvania, gives us no less than thirty varieties of Oriental poppies in only five of which the word "scarlet" enters into the descriptions. All the rest verge upon the salmon, apricot, amaranth, and deep-mulberry shades. The lighter colors of these newer poppies are, as has been suggested, very like those of the Shirley poppy, and how remarkable to find in the larger, stronger, and more enduring flowers the charming color characteristics of that poppy, whose one defect is its ephemeral quality!

From a color-plate in the list of the plantsman just mentioned a very beautiful combination of poppies should be got by using the rich amaranth Mahony, described as "deep mahogany-maroon," but which I should call a blackish mulberry, with Rose Queen, a fine satiny rose-pink. The revolution in color in these poppies transforms them at once into subjects of the greatest interest for the formal or informal garden, the garden which precludes the use of scarlet, orange, or any deep yellow. The rich darkness of Mahony would be a heavenly sight with the Dropmore anchusa rising back of it, but for real nobility of effect the two should be used alone.

Some plants seem a bit dull in their beginnings; not so with this, for from the first the lovely form and curve of each leaf is apparent, aside from the fresh yellow-green of the leaf-group. To fill the wide spaces of earth which should occur between plants destined for so rapid and so large a growth, tulips are suggested; to follow the poppy bloom and act again as a ground cover, seed of salpiglossis sown early, or of tall marigold, whose foilage and bloom will in August and September seem to be the only inhabitants of this part of the border or the garden. If the objection be raised that the poppy leaves must shade such seeds in May and June, I reply that it is easy so to stake aside a leaf or two of the poppy in many places as to allow the sun full access to the little seedlings of annuals.

Shall I be forgiven for returning to the subject of sea-lavenders, or statices, for a moment? Seeds of several varieties started under glass not only made a pretty effect in rows but became a necessity for cutting. The variety bonduelli already mentioned was tried for the first time, taken on faith and the word of Sutton & Sons. It found favor at once. Statice sinuata, mauve, came true to its name, bearing pale-mauve flowers in what might be called tiny boughs or branches about a foot from the ground. Statice sinuata Mauve proved to be of many lovely tones of pale mauve, bluish mauve, and cream-white. But, oh, the pale-yellow variety, S. sinuata bonduelli, again! In this we have almost a primrose-yellow Gypsophila paniculata for the making delicate of our bowls and jars of July flowers. One should see it with sea-holly. On its fitness for use with Gladiolus primulinus hybrids I have already dwelt; indeed, there is hardly one flower whose beauty it might not enhance. And then — amusing to me who dislike dried flowers for decorative uses — the texture of all these statices is like that of tissue-paper. Draw the finger lightly across their flower clusters when in full bloom and hear the soft rustle of them! Stance bonduelli against brown-seeding gypsophila, the single, with the great orange lily, Lilium superbum, is exceedingly good in effect because of the yellow-green of the statice and of the lily-buds. The decorative value of seeds ripe, but not too ripe, is seldom dwelt upon, but I can assure the reader that the three things mentioned make together a most lovely planting for early August and are equally beautiful when cut.

It may be of interest to set down here a brief account of trials of some newer gladioli, only of those which made themselves uncommonly welcome. In Display, mentioned above as a fine neighbor for the rose-colored poppy, I noticed a flower of very beautiful form — a broad, well-opened flower of most decided character and good looks; on its outer petals is a suffusion of Rose begonia No. 1, deepening toward the outer edges to Rose vieux No. 2. The anthers bore a distinct lavender tone, and a fine cream-white on the lower petals of the gladiolus connected the darker shades of rose above and below it.

The marvellous Mrs. Frank Pendleton I also saw a year since for the first time, and this was an experience apart. The flower, a broad, finely opened one of white, carried petals all flushed toward the tips with Rose malvacê; the markings of lower petals were of extraordinary richness and depth of color. In chart colors the nearest to this tone was Rouge carombier No. 4, but the plate was really neither dark nor velvety enough. Rouge Andrinople No. 1 is the tone of these large oval markings. Mrs. Pendleton is a gladiolus in a thousand, and its American origin should be a matter for pride to all in this country who cherish their gardens.

The longer I garden, the more deeply do I prize all flowers in tones of violet or deep, rich purple. We need more such as foils for paler colors, yes, and for richer too. The Buddleia is a garden godsend and, pleasant to record, is rapidly becoming better known. The grace of its habit, the charming lavenders and purples of its flowery racemes, not to mention its gray-green foliage and its absolutely constant bloom make it already of value high and wide. At the thought of the violet gladioli the vision of those enchanting wreaths of lavender held out from every Buddleia plant floats before my too imaginative eye. The illustration shows a group of Buddleias blooming above gladiolus America, which in its turn is grown among hardy French chrysanthemums partly for support from the latter, partly for succession of bloom in the trial garden.

Phcebus, Nuage, Abyssine, Colibri, and Satellite are the lavender or violet flowers I would now name. The first, possessed of long, narrow petals, whose general tone is of Violet de campanule No. Q, has markings on the inferior petals of Violet vineux No. 3. These markings are long, pointed blotches terminating in spaces of tenderest creamy yellow; the whole a very handsome flower of the hooded type. In Nuage the throat markings are of Violet rougeatre No. 4, turning below to Violet petunia No. 3; the petals are of a grayish lavender, Violet franc No. 1. Abyssine is a small gladiolus whose general tone is Violet prune No. 4; a flower one would not be without, so velvet-soft, so wonderful in color. Baron Hulot has long been indispensable to us all; Abyssine ranks with Baron Hulot.

Colibri is a flower of many lovely tones of mauve and violet, not large but in color unique. On its three inner petals are narrow central markings of yellowish cream. The dark edges of the petals are of Violet pourpre No. 1; a lighter tone is seen toward the centre, though all is so veined and touched with mauve and violet as to be difficult to describe.

Satellite is the last of this dark-hued list. Here the general tone is Violet prune' No. 4 relieved by tones of Amarante in all its shades in the chart. Two perfectly rounded lower petals of Violet pen-see No. 4 give an astonishing beauty to the flower. In my notes concerning it I find this entry: "No gladiolus to compare with this," coupled with an admonition to myself to grow it with delphinium Mrs. J. S. Brunton, or, for a richer effect, among or beyond the tall phlox Goliath. For those who would know accurately the color of the delphinium just mentioned, I may add that the first two shades of Bleu de cobalte factice exactly represent its petal colors, while its eye is white tinged with canary-yellow and palest lavender.

Yet another gladiolus, the last; and this is of those lasts which shall be firsts, for it is a giant in size of flower and height of stem — a superb addition to the ranks of gladioli. London is its imposing name. In color almost the counterpart of America, its cool pink eminently fits it for use with the beautiful lavender gladiolus Badenia. The flowers of the two are of almost equal size, measuring four inches on each side of the triangle made by the petals; and they are quite ravishing together. Badenia, the purple verbena Dolores, and that charming hardy phlox Braga used together in a garden should make a most happy color arrangement. Gladiolus Satellite, too, is exceedingly good with phlox Goliath.

I spoke just now of verbena Dolores. To be explicit as to its color, it has over its fine trusses or panicles of bloom the darker shades of Bleu d'aniline, but the flower is much darker than No. 4 of this shade, and has that velvety texture which gives the dark verbenas a richness possessed only by the darkest snapdragons.

In the trial garden a few new hardy phloxes asserted themselves last year: two or three dozen planted in the spring of the year before rose in their might the second season and sent forth glorious trusses of flowers to proclaim their presence. A first cousin in color to the lovely Elizabeth Campbell, and very beautiful with it, is Rhynstrom, a recent acquaintance. Rhynstrom has a wonderfully large floweret of a delicious pink; perfect it is before phlox Pantheon, as it is dwarf and of a tone of rose to positively accentuate the loveliness of the taller of the two. Baron von Dedem has decidedly the most dazzling hue of all phloxes. Its opening flowers are nearly if not quite as brilliant as Coquelicot in full bloom, and the expanse of its great blossoms makes it in the garden a far more telling phlox than the latter. Widar and Braga, two beauties in themselves, lend themselves well to use as foregrounds for the taller lavender phloxes E. Danzanvilliers and Antonin Mercie, again needing to complete the picture that good verbena Dolores. Phlox Braga is entrancing with ageratum Stella Gurney and with the same humble but most useful annual, Widar, discreetly used, may afford an effect as subtle as it is lovely.

The recent vogue of lavender in all sorts of feminine accessories is known to us all. There is in this hue a certain refinement, a charm, which makes it a special favorite for the woman no longer young. Can it be, I wonder, that the suggestion is taken unconsciously from Nature's own use of the tone in the waning of summer, from those flowers which embroider the roadsides with lavender-purple in September — aster, ironweed, the tall liatris? Be this or not a foolish fancy, there is no flower of more value and of greater beauty in the September garden than the Buddleia. It is at every stage of growth most lovely, and in its fulness of bloom a thing to marvel at. For an autumn picture, set the variety known as Magnifica back of phlox Antonin Mercie (in its second bloom, all first flowers having been cut immediately upon passing), with masses of green-white zinnias also in the foreground. Phlox Jeanne d'Arc, the tall late white, creates a beautiful background for these Buddleias, the graceful lavender plumes of the latter very delicate against the round white mounds of the phlox trusses. Mr. E. H. Wilson, an authority upon Buddleias as well as upon all other Chinese plants, shrubs, and trees, suggests the planting of Sorbaria arborea and its varieties by the brook or pond side in combination with Buddleia. "The effect is everything the most fastidious could wish for."

Also in mid-September, a great group of flowers then in perfection in the trial garden gave excellent suggestion for a planned planting. This, altogether a happening in arrangement, was seen against a trellis covered with leaves of the vine. Close against the green stood in slender dignity a group of blooming Helianthus orgyalis, Miss Mellish, ten feet tall, its blooms of clear yellow shining against the upper blue. Below the Helianthus, Sutton's Dwarf Primrose sunflower raised its pale-yellow heads with dark-brown centres, the yellow-green leaves forming a spreading background for tall white zinnias arrayed in groups below. The semi-dwarf lavender phlox Antonin Mercie, with fragrant creamy-white Acidanthera bicolor before it, made the foreground of this picture, and those who would have tones in flowers ranging from pure chrome-yellow through primrose to lavender and cream-white will do well to plan this simply made and satisfying group. Introduce a few hardy asters such as James Ganly, with a bit of low-growing verbena Dolores in the extreme foreground, and a delicacy of form and a rich color accent, too, are at once added to such a scheme as this.

To return to midsummer flowers — three brief suggestions and I have done. A rich royal-purple Antirrhinum, Purple King by name, was excellent when cut, with Stance bonduelli; the new giants of double zinnias, rose-colored ones only, were permitted to show their stout heads among the early-flowering white cosmos, the dwarf variety; and more lovely even than these was the picture before touched upon of pearly-white platycodon with fluffy heads of the double rose-pink poppy encompassing it about. These arrangements may strike the expert flower gardener as too commonplace to be entertained. I offer them as points of departure and already think with satisfaction of the loveliness that may spring from them in better hands than mine.

should accompany his name in the plant list. Nor do I find the name of J. G. Slack peculiarly inviting when attached to one of that same poetic tribe of iris. Do seedsmen name flowers for good customers? I mightily fear it! Names, to be perfection, should first carry some descriptive quality, and next they should be words of beauty. Many examples might be given: Dawn, most aptly fit for the lovely pale-pink gladiolus which it adorns; Capri (a name, of course, to conjure with), a true felicity as a name for a delphinium of a ravishing tone of sky-blue; Eyebright, for that wondrous daffodil with scarlet centre; Bonfire, for the salvia's burning reds; Lady Gay, the happiest hit in names for that sweet little rose which will dance anywhere in the sun and wind of June.

A sight most lovely is, of a summer's evening, to see Delphinium Moerheimi lifting its white spires of flowers against a green background of shrubbery with a blue mist of sea-holly below it, and in the foreground, rising from gypsophila masses, other spires of richest rose-pink hollyhock. White and lavender phloxes in the middle distance add to the charm of this picture. Tapis Blanc, and Antonin Mercie, and the little dark balls of box-trees, and the blooming standard Conrad F. Meyer roses with their formal flavor, are agreeable accessories, really enhancing the beauty of the freer flower masses.

As each summer appears and waxes, I think I have found the companion for sea-holly. One year it was phlox Coquelicot or its brilliant brother R. P. Struthers; another year phlox Pantheon was my favorite for the honor; while last year I was entirely captivated by the effect of the annual Statice bonduelli, primrose or canary-yellow, with the blue-gray eryngium. But this season a large group of the sea-hollies chanced to bloom beside another group of pentstemon, and a happy alliance it was, quite the happiest of all. The brilliant color of the pentstemon, Pentstemon barbatus Torreyii, found its perfect concomitant in the cloudy blues of the eryngium, and the two together formed a satisfying spectacle. This pentstemon, not one of the newer hybrids, I also liked for use in the house, especially when rising from bowlfuls of the creamy heads of Hydrangea arborescens; the effect, a severe contrast, was good. The pentstemon is a trifle too near scarlet to be welcome in my garden — it must remain without the gate; but in gayer gardens than mine it should always have place. Lovely it would surely be above mounds of cream-white zinnias in full bloom with a sweet pea like Barbara rising back of the pentstemon.

Sea-holly! I could sing its praises for pages! Sea-holly has never seemed to me to find its perfect companion for cutting until, in the trial garden, acquaintance was luckily made with the annual Stance sinuata bonduelli. Stance ineana has here been known and loved; Statice latifolia, that beautiful violet statice which ladies buy on Edinburgh streets; but Stance bonduelli, with its delicate yellow blooms, became in a day a prime favorite. The loveliness of its foot-high branching stems covered with tiny canary-yellow flowers, when cut and held against the bluish sea-holly, can hardly be imagined. Gypeophila paniculoia, the double variety, is good with the two, but possibly the pair are best alone. For out-of-door effect the statice should not be overlooked; though its stems are rather sparse, its leaves entirely basal, it is nevertheless a treasure, and a charming result occurs when the later mauve variety blooms, with many heads of a new pale-yellow centaurea gently forcing their way to the sun through the tiny lavender statice blossoms.

Gladiolus primulinus hybrids are a delight to the "garden soul." Exquisite soft tones of pale yellow with now and again , some spikes of a pale flame-pink, they are most lovely as they grow, while for cutting, used with Stance bonduelli and the double gypsophila, nothing could be more attractive. Add to your arrangement of these flowers a cluster of that enchanting sweet pea, Sterling Stent, you shall rejoice in what you have created. Sterling Stent! I betray a valuable gardening secret when I tell of him. His color, according to the French chart, is Lague de Garance from 1 to 4 with occasional tones of Rouge pêche 4. Beautiful beyond description is he, and he fadeth not in sun!

And now a word concerning a certain double rose-colored annual poppy, a poppy which has become a rose-pink essential to this garden. One of Sutton's hollyhocks, a double pink of the exact tone of these poppies (chart, all shades of Rose Nilsson), has made a picture here and there, lifting its tall stems set with rich pink bosses of rosy petals above the rounding gypsophilas in whose lacy masses some poppies softly bloom. So like are the poppies to the individual hollyhock flowers that it is as if some of the former had whimsically decided to grow along a hollyhock stalk. If one were to try for this effect, a new gladiolus, Display, should be freely used within the range of vision here; and the beauteous sea-holly would again prove its high garden value if groups should be set in this picture. Among the pink poppies I very much fancy the white platycodon, P. grandiforum album; the pearly tone of these flowers charming with the gay poppy-blooms, and the platycodon's smooth pointed cups affording an interesting contrast to the other's soft fulness of fringed silk. Gladiolus Display among sea-holly could not but be excellently effective. It is a gladiolus of rare beauty.

Let us not pass by the Oriental poppy in our consideration of the flowers of the poppy tribe. In the latitude of Boston the fresh pale-green tufts of the former may be discovered in early April, a heartening and lovely sight as the last snows of winter are vanishing before the spring sun. These have formed in the previous autumn, but this perennial has a constitution to withstand the severest of winters. Here is a flower which does well in any good garden soil, though sunlight is its prime necessity. Equally vital to its well-doing is its transplanting when dormant in August or September, or so I used to think. I know now, after some experimenting, that the Oriental poppy can be safely moved in spring as well.

Until two years ago, when some of the varieties of this flower of recent introduction were revealed to me, I was ignorant of the development of the flower.

Princess Victoria Louise, the huge bloom of a delicious rosy-salmon hue, was a sensation. One who enjoys the delicate suggestion of thin flame should stand before this flower transported with delight. And now the list of Bertrand H. Farr, of Wyomissing, Pennsylvania, gives us no less than thirty varieties of Oriental poppies in only five of which the word "scarlet" enters into the descriptions. All the rest verge upon the salmon, apricot, amaranth, and deep-mulberry shades. The lighter colors of these newer poppies are, as has been suggested, very like those of the Shirley poppy, and how remarkable to find in the larger, stronger, and more enduring flowers the charming color characteristics of that poppy, whose one defect is its ephemeral quality!

From a color-plate in the list of the plantsman just mentioned a very beautiful combination of poppies should be got by using the rich amaranth Mahony, described as "deep mahogany-maroon," but which I should call a blackish mulberry, with Rose Queen, a fine satiny rose-pink. The revolution in color in these poppies transforms them at once into subjects of the greatest interest for the formal or informal garden, the garden which precludes the use of scarlet, orange, or any deep yellow. The rich darkness of Mahony would be a heavenly sight with the Dropmore anchusa rising back of it, but for real nobility of effect the two should be used alone.

Some plants seem a bit dull in their beginnings; not so with this, for from the first the lovely form and curve of each leaf is apparent, aside from the fresh yellow-green of the leaf-group. To fill the wide spaces of earth which should occur between plants destined for so rapid and so large a growth, tulips are suggested; to follow the poppy bloom and act again as a ground cover, seed of salpiglossis sown early, or of tall marigold, whose foilage and bloom will in August and September seem to be the only inhabitants of this part of the border or the garden. If the objection be raised that the poppy leaves must shade such seeds in May and June, I reply that it is easy so to stake aside a leaf or two of the poppy in many places as to allow the sun full access to the little seedlings of annuals.

Shall I be forgiven for returning to the subject of sea-lavenders, or statices, for a moment? Seeds of several varieties started under glass not only made a pretty effect in rows but became a necessity for cutting. The variety bonduelli already mentioned was tried for the first time, taken on faith and the word of Sutton & Sons. It found favor at once. Statice sinuata, mauve, came true to its name, bearing pale-mauve flowers in what might be called tiny boughs or branches about a foot from the ground. Statice sinuata Mauve proved to be of many lovely tones of pale mauve, bluish mauve, and cream-white. But, oh, the pale-yellow variety, S. sinuata bonduelli, again! In this we have almost a primrose-yellow Gypsophila paniculata for the making delicate of our bowls and jars of July flowers. One should see it with sea-holly. On its fitness for use with Gladiolus primulinus hybrids I have already dwelt; indeed, there is hardly one flower whose beauty it might not enhance. And then — amusing to me who dislike dried flowers for decorative uses — the texture of all these statices is like that of tissue-paper. Draw the finger lightly across their flower clusters when in full bloom and hear the soft rustle of them! Stance bonduelli against brown-seeding gypsophila, the single, with the great orange lily, Lilium superbum, is exceedingly good in effect because of the yellow-green of the statice and of the lily-buds. The decorative value of seeds ripe, but not too ripe, is seldom dwelt upon, but I can assure the reader that the three things mentioned make together a most lovely planting for early August and are equally beautiful when cut.

It may be of interest to set down here a brief account of trials of some newer gladioli, only of those which made themselves uncommonly welcome. In Display, mentioned above as a fine neighbor for the rose-colored poppy, I noticed a flower of very beautiful form — a broad, well-opened flower of most decided character and good looks; on its outer petals is a suffusion of Rose begonia No. 1, deepening toward the outer edges to Rose vieux No. 2. The anthers bore a distinct lavender tone, and a fine cream-white on the lower petals of the gladiolus connected the darker shades of rose above and below it.

The marvellous Mrs. Frank Pendleton I also saw a year since for the first time, and this was an experience apart. The flower, a broad, finely opened one of white, carried petals all flushed toward the tips with Rose malvacê; the markings of lower petals were of extraordinary richness and depth of color. In chart colors the nearest to this tone was Rouge carombier No. 4, but the plate was really neither dark nor velvety enough. Rouge Andrinople No. 1 is the tone of these large oval markings. Mrs. Pendleton is a gladiolus in a thousand, and its American origin should be a matter for pride to all in this country who cherish their gardens.

The longer I garden, the more deeply do I prize all flowers in tones of violet or deep, rich purple. We need more such as foils for paler colors, yes, and for richer too. The Buddleia is a garden godsend and, pleasant to record, is rapidly becoming better known. The grace of its habit, the charming lavenders and purples of its flowery racemes, not to mention its gray-green foliage and its absolutely constant bloom make it already of value high and wide. At the thought of the violet gladioli the vision of those enchanting wreaths of lavender held out from every Buddleia plant floats before my too imaginative eye. The illustration shows a group of Buddleias blooming above gladiolus America, which in its turn is grown among hardy French chrysanthemums partly for support from the latter, partly for succession of bloom in the trial garden.

Phcebus, Nuage, Abyssine, Colibri, and Satellite are the lavender or violet flowers I would now name. The first, possessed of long, narrow petals, whose general tone is of Violet de campanule No. Q, has markings on the inferior petals of Violet vineux No. 3. These markings are long, pointed blotches terminating in spaces of tenderest creamy yellow; the whole a very handsome flower of the hooded type. In Nuage the throat markings are of Violet rougeatre No. 4, turning below to Violet petunia No. 3; the petals are of a grayish lavender, Violet franc No. 1. Abyssine is a small gladiolus whose general tone is Violet prune No. 4; a flower one would not be without, so velvet-soft, so wonderful in color. Baron Hulot has long been indispensable to us all; Abyssine ranks with Baron Hulot.

Colibri is a flower of many lovely tones of mauve and violet, not large but in color unique. On its three inner petals are narrow central markings of yellowish cream. The dark edges of the petals are of Violet pourpre No. 1; a lighter tone is seen toward the centre, though all is so veined and touched with mauve and violet as to be difficult to describe.

Satellite is the last of this dark-hued list. Here the general tone is Violet prune' No. 4 relieved by tones of Amarante in all its shades in the chart. Two perfectly rounded lower petals of Violet pen-see No. 4 give an astonishing beauty to the flower. In my notes concerning it I find this entry: "No gladiolus to compare with this," coupled with an admonition to myself to grow it with delphinium Mrs. J. S. Brunton, or, for a richer effect, among or beyond the tall phlox Goliath. For those who would know accurately the color of the delphinium just mentioned, I may add that the first two shades of Bleu de cobalte factice exactly represent its petal colors, while its eye is white tinged with canary-yellow and palest lavender.

Yet another gladiolus, the last; and this is of those lasts which shall be firsts, for it is a giant in size of flower and height of stem — a superb addition to the ranks of gladioli. London is its imposing name. In color almost the counterpart of America, its cool pink eminently fits it for use with the beautiful lavender gladiolus Badenia. The flowers of the two are of almost equal size, measuring four inches on each side of the triangle made by the petals; and they are quite ravishing together. Badenia, the purple verbena Dolores, and that charming hardy phlox Braga used together in a garden should make a most happy color arrangement. Gladiolus Satellite, too, is exceedingly good with phlox Goliath.

I spoke just now of verbena Dolores. To be explicit as to its color, it has over its fine trusses or panicles of bloom the darker shades of Bleu d'aniline, but the flower is much darker than No. 4 of this shade, and has that velvety texture which gives the dark verbenas a richness possessed only by the darkest snapdragons.

In the trial garden a few new hardy phloxes asserted themselves last year: two or three dozen planted in the spring of the year before rose in their might the second season and sent forth glorious trusses of flowers to proclaim their presence. A first cousin in color to the lovely Elizabeth Campbell, and very beautiful with it, is Rhynstrom, a recent acquaintance. Rhynstrom has a wonderfully large floweret of a delicious pink; perfect it is before phlox Pantheon, as it is dwarf and of a tone of rose to positively accentuate the loveliness of the taller of the two. Baron von Dedem has decidedly the most dazzling hue of all phloxes. Its opening flowers are nearly if not quite as brilliant as Coquelicot in full bloom, and the expanse of its great blossoms makes it in the garden a far more telling phlox than the latter. Widar and Braga, two beauties in themselves, lend themselves well to use as foregrounds for the taller lavender phloxes E. Danzanvilliers and Antonin Mercie, again needing to complete the picture that good verbena Dolores. Phlox Braga is entrancing with ageratum Stella Gurney and with the same humble but most useful annual, Widar, discreetly used, may afford an effect as subtle as it is lovely.

The recent vogue of lavender in all sorts of feminine accessories is known to us all. There is in this hue a certain refinement, a charm, which makes it a special favorite for the woman no longer young. Can it be, I wonder, that the suggestion is taken unconsciously from Nature's own use of the tone in the waning of summer, from those flowers which embroider the roadsides with lavender-purple in September — aster, ironweed, the tall liatris? Be this or not a foolish fancy, there is no flower of more value and of greater beauty in the September garden than the Buddleia. It is at every stage of growth most lovely, and in its fulness of bloom a thing to marvel at. For an autumn picture, set the variety known as Magnifica back of phlox Antonin Mercie (in its second bloom, all first flowers having been cut immediately upon passing), with masses of green-white zinnias also in the foreground. Phlox Jeanne d'Arc, the tall late white, creates a beautiful background for these Buddleias, the graceful lavender plumes of the latter very delicate against the round white mounds of the phlox trusses. Mr. E. H. Wilson, an authority upon Buddleias as well as upon all other Chinese plants, shrubs, and trees, suggests the planting of Sorbaria arborea and its varieties by the brook or pond side in combination with Buddleia. "The effect is everything the most fastidious could wish for."

Also in mid-September, a great group of flowers then in perfection in the trial garden gave excellent suggestion for a planned planting. This, altogether a happening in arrangement, was seen against a trellis covered with leaves of the vine. Close against the green stood in slender dignity a group of blooming Helianthus orgyalis, Miss Mellish, ten feet tall, its blooms of clear yellow shining against the upper blue. Below the Helianthus, Sutton's Dwarf Primrose sunflower raised its pale-yellow heads with dark-brown centres, the yellow-green leaves forming a spreading background for tall white zinnias arrayed in groups below. The semi-dwarf lavender phlox Antonin Mercie, with fragrant creamy-white Acidanthera bicolor before it, made the foreground of this picture, and those who would have tones in flowers ranging from pure chrome-yellow through primrose to lavender and cream-white will do well to plan this simply made and satisfying group. Introduce a few hardy asters such as James Ganly, with a bit of low-growing verbena Dolores in the extreme foreground, and a delicacy of form and a rich color accent, too, are at once added to such a scheme as this.

To return to midsummer flowers — three brief suggestions and I have done. A rich royal-purple Antirrhinum, Purple King by name, was excellent when cut, with Stance bonduelli; the new giants of double zinnias, rose-colored ones only, were permitted to show their stout heads among the early-flowering white cosmos, the dwarf variety; and more lovely even than these was the picture before touched upon of pearly-white platycodon with fluffy heads of the double rose-pink poppy encompassing it about. These arrangements may strike the expert flower gardener as too commonplace to be entertained. I offer them as points of departure and already think with satisfaction of the loveliness that may spring from them in better hands than mine.