day-dreams is that this, according to nature, should be done by the
grouping of shrubs and the drapery of vines.

I now for the first time fully understand the uses of the pergola in
landscape gardening, the open sides of which form a series of
vine-draped frames. I had always before thought it a stiff and
artificial sort of arrangement, as well as the tall clipped yews, laurel
trees in tubs, and marble vases and columns that are parts of the usual
framework of the more formal gardens. And while these things would be
decidedly out of place in gardens of our class, and at best could only
be indulged in via white-painted wooden imitations, the woman who is her
own gardener may exercise endless skill in bringing about equally good
results with the rustic material at hand and by following wild nature,
who, after all, is the first model.

[Illustration: THE SILVER MAPLE BY THE LANE GATE.]

I think I hear Evan laughing at my preachment concerning his special
art, but the comprehension of it has all come through looking at the
natural landscape effects that have happened at Opal Farm owing to the
fact that the hand of man has there been stayed these many years. On
either side of the rough bars leading between our boundary wall and the
meadow stands a dead cedar tree, from which the dry, moss-covered
branches have been broken by the loads of hay that used to be gathered
up at random and carted out this way. Wild birds doubtless used these
branches as perches of vantage from which they might view the country,
both during feeding excursions and in migration, and thus have sown the
seed of their provender, for lo and behold, around the old trees have
grown vines of wild grapes, with flowers that perfume the entire meadow
in June. Here the woody, spiral-climbing waxwork holds aloft its
clusters of berries that look like bunches of miniature lemons until on
being ripe they open and show the coral fruit; Virginia creeper of the
five-pointed fingers, clinging tendrils, glorious autumn colour, and
spreading clusters of purple blackberries, and wild white clematis, the
"traveller's joy" of moist roadside copses, all blending together and
stretching out hands, until this season being undisturbed, they have
clasped to form a natural arch of surpassing beauty.

Having a great pile of cedar poles, in excess of the needs of all our
other projects, my present problem is to place a series of simple arches
constructed on this natural idea, t