Summary

Harry Roberts The Book of Old-Fashioned Flowers

Such is the fate of the man who would be a gardener. He must wage constant battle with flowers whose beauty he can but acknowledge. He must be full of zeal for the murder of plants he is bound to love and admire. It is a little like hitting a woman; and, when one sees [106] the weed, which has been violently hurled from bed and border, patiently trying to live its humble life on wall or rubbish-heap, smiling as sweetly as it may on the "owner" of the soil, one is reminded of that pathetic—even if fictitious—story of the vivisector's dog.
Source: Gutenberg

Harry Roberts The Book of Old-Fashioned Flowers

THE GARDEN IN AUTUMN It is the deciduous trees and shrubs which announce the arrival of autumn. Green leaves take on a colouring of yellow, brown, or red more pronounced than the yellows and reds of spring. As the wind blows, a few of the ripest leaves fall, and one becomes conscious of a feeling of evening, of the end of a play, or of the end of a beautiful poem. If it were but by these autumnal colourings, and by the feelings which the fall of the leaf produces, one would be well repaid for the planting and cultivating of trees and shrubs.
Source: Gutenberg

Harry Roberts The Book of Old-Fashioned Flowers

A garden is not a place merely for the exhibition of floral wonders, but a place wherein to rest, to talk, to read or to dream. With the blazing sun of July beating on one's unshaded head, dreaming, resting, and reading are equally uncomfortable and unprofitable.
A shade-giving tree is worth all the flowers of midsummer, though fortunately one is not called upon to sacrifice either. Trees and shrubs yield welcome shade, but, quite apart from this, they help to throw up, and provide suitable backgrounds for, the dwarfer plants which make up the majority of our garden contents.
Source: Gutenberg

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