Here Ambrosia was plentiful, but is plentiful no longer; and Walpole garden lovers seek seeds of it from the Worcester garden. I think it dies out generally when all the weeding and garden care is done by gardeners; they assume that the little plants of such modest bearing are weeds, and pull them up, with many other precious seedlings of the old garden, in their desire to have ample expanse of naked dirt. One of the charms which was permitted to the old garden was its fulness. Nature there certainly abhorred a vacant space. The garden soil was full of resources; it had a seed for every square inch; it seemed to have a reserve store ready to crowd into any space offered by the removal or dying down of a plant at any time. Let me tell of a curious thing I found in an old book, anent our subject--green flowers. It shows that we must not accuse our modern sensation lovers, either in botany or any other science, of being the only ones to add artifice to nature. The green Carnation has been chosen to typify the decadence and monstrosity of the end of the nineteenth century; but nearly two hundred years ago a London fruit and flower grower, named Richard Bradley, wrote a treatise upon field husbandry and garden culture, and in it he tells of a green Carnation which "a certayn fryar" produced by grafting a Carnation upon a Fennel stalk. The flowers were green for several years, then nature overcame decadent art. There be those who are so enamoured of the color green and of foliage, that they care little for flowers of varied tint; even in a garden, like the old poet Marvell, they deem,-- "No white nor red was ever seen So amorous as this lovely green." Such folk could scarce find content in an American garden; for our American gardeners must confess, with Shakespeare's clown: "I am no great Nebuchadnezzar, sir, I have not much skill in grass." Our lawns are not old enough. A charming greenery of old English gardens was the bowling-green. We once had them in our colonies, as the name of a street in our greatest city now proves; and I deem them a garden fashion well-to-be-revived.