It is a common thing in Italian gardens to see a quantity of plants in pots standing in various parts of the garden, generally in connexion with paved terraces and steps. This is in addition to the larger pot plants—Oranges, Lemons, Oleanders, &c., that, in their immense and often richly decorated earthenware receptacles, form an important part of the garden design. In our climate we cannot have these unless there is an Orangery or some such spacious place free from frost for housing them in winter. But good groupings of smaller plants in pots is a form of ornament that might be made more use of in our own gardens, especially where there are paved spaces near a house or in connexion with a tank or fountain, so that there is convenient access to means of daily watering. I have such a space in a cool court nearly square in shape. A middle circle is paved, and all next the house is paved, on a level of one shallow step higher. It is on the sides of this raised step that the pot plants are grouped, leaving the middle space free where there is a wooden seat, and good access to a door to the left.

The first thing is to secure good greenery. On each side three oblong Italian terra-cotta pots full of Funkia grandiflora stand on the lower level. They serve to hide the common flower-pots that are ranged behind. The picture shows how it looks a day or two after it is first arranged, early in June when the Clematis montana is still in bloom. Next above the ornamental pots are common ones also with Funkia grandiflora. On the inner side of the groups, next the house, are pots of Aspidistra, and, against the wall, of Male Fern, and there are more Ferns and Funkias for filling spaces between the flowering plants. Of these the most important are Lilies—longiflorum, candidum and speciosum—and Hydrangeas, but we also have pots of Gladiolus Colvillei The Bride, Campanula persicifolia and C. pyramidalis and white and pink Cup-and-saucer Canterbury Bells. The last are taken up from the ground and potted only just before they come into bloom.

There are seldom more than two kinds of flowering plants placed here at a time; the two or three sorts of beautiful foliage are in themselves delightful to the eye; often there is nothing with them but Lilies, and one hardly desires to have more. There is an ample filling of the green plants, so that no pots are seen.

If the place were in the sun the plants chosen would be largely Geraniums; two-year-old plants in good-sized pots; and, in place of the Ferns that enjoy shade and the Funkias whose leaves often burn in the sun, there would be the large leaved Megasea cordifolia. Here also would be Lilies, Hydrangeas and Cannas, and good store of the graceful Maiden's Wreath (Francoa ramosa).

The Geraniums would be very carefully assorted for colour; in one part of the scheme white and soft pink, in another the rosy scarlets, and elsewhere the salmon-reds, now so numerous and good. The last two groups might by degrees tone into the pure scarlets, of which the best I know and the most delightful in colour is Paul Crampel. The colour is pure and brilliant but not cruel. I can think of no other word that so well describes some scarlets of a harsh quality that gives discomfort rather than satisfaction to a sensitive colour-eye. Henry Jacoby is to me one of the cruel reds and has no place among my flowers. I have no desire to disparage a plant which is so general a favourite, but feel sure that its popularity is a good deal owing to the fact that the main gardening public is inclined rather to accept what is put before it than to take the trouble to search for something better. Although the colour of this Geranium is extremely vivid, a whole bed of it has a heavy appearance and is wanting in pictorial effect.

I have great pleasure in putting together Omphale, palest salmon-pink; Mrs. Laurence, a shade deeper; Mrs. Cannell, a salmon-scarlet approaching the quality of colour of Phlox Coquelicot, and leading these by degrees to the pure, good scarlet of Paul Crampel. A bed or clump or border planted with these, or varieties equivalent in colour, would be seen to have, in comparison with a bed of Henry Jacoby, a quite remarkable degree of life, brilliancy, beauty and interest. The colouring would be actually brighter and yet more kind and acceptable to the eye.

Had I more strength I should visit the nurseries in order to see all the excellent Geraniums that are now grown, and to group them into colour-combinations such as could be confidently recommended. As it is, I have to depend upon the courtesy of my friends in the horticultural trade, when I have occasion to make such combinations, for sending me blooms that I can choose from.

For detached vases that stand on pedestals, so that the whole of the vase and contents becomes warmed by exposure to sunlight, a condition specially grateful to Geraniums, I know no variety more useful than King of Denmark. The flowers are in large trusses, half-double, of an excellent soft salmon-pink colour; the foliage is bold and well marked; the whole plant massive and handsome. For this and any other outdoor pot-culture it is best if strong two-year-old plants can be kept.

There are among Geraniums some of a raw magenta-pink that I regret to see in many gardens and that will certainly never be admitted into mine.

In designing gardens where there are flagged spaces it is well to remember the good effect of summer flowers in slightly raised beds with stone edges. Such beds often come happily in conjunction with steps and paved landings and designs in which fountains occur. Summer flowers, such as Geraniums, Lilies and Cannas, seem to revel in such beds and are never seen to better advantage. Owing to the cottage character of my house I have little scope for such beds—none at all for the best kind with dwarf walls and curbs of moulded freestone, but I have one edged with a low wall of local sandstone where there is a square landing paved with the same stone and short flights of steps in connexion with a tank and a lower garden level. Here Geraniums and Cannas luxuriate in shelter and full sunshine.

Maiden's Wreath (Francoa ramosa) is a plant for many uses. The foliage, though sparing in quantity, is distinct and handsome. The long flower-stems are flung out with a kind of determination of character that would seem to imply that the plant knows what is expected of it and intends to fulfil its settled duty and purpose, namely, that of being a graceful and beautiful ornament. Towards the later summer these flower-stems become so heavy that there is danger of their weight, swayed by a little wind, wrenching out whole portions of the plant. Support should be given with short pieces of hazel stick tied half way up the stem. In nurseries it is general, and even in private gardens not unusual, to see the flowers tied straight upright. This should never be, for it not only forces the plant into a form that is entirely at variance with its nature, but robs it of its natural grace and valuable individuality.

There is no end to the uses of Hydrangeas in pots; a well-bloomed plant will give life and interest to many an uninteresting corner; the bloom is long-enduring and stands equally well in sun and shade. If the blue colour, which comes naturally in some soils is desired, it can be had by mixing pounded slate and iron filings with the compost—alum is another well-known agent for inducing the blue colour. But I have much faith in slate, for the bluest I have ever seen came from a garden on a slaty soil.

A few only of the many plants that can with advantage be used in pots have been named, but in any case it would be well to bear in mind that it is best to restrict the number of kinds shown at once and to make sure of the good groundwork of foliage. I have therefore only dwelt upon the few that came to mind as the best and easiest to use. But the pretty red and white single Fuchsias of the Mme. Cornellisson type should not be forgotten, also that the fine Comet and Ostrich Plume Asters are capital pot-plants, for, like Canterbury Bells, they bear lifting from the open ground just before they flower and even in full bloom.

Plants grown in pots lead naturally to the consideration of those most suitable for tubs. Of these the most important are permanent things of shrubby nature—several of the Orange and Lemon family, Oleander, Pomegranate, Bay, Myrtle, Datura, Sweet Verbena and dwarf Palm, also Hydrangea, Tree Heliotrope and Agapanthus. The last is of course a bulbous plant, but from its large, solid foliage and quantity of long-enduring bloom it is one of the best of plants for tubs. The greater number of these need housing in winter in an Orangery or other frost-proof building. Other bushy plants for tub use that are hardier are some of the Veronicas, such as Traversi, speciosa and hulkeana, Olearia Haastii and O. Gunni. Tree Peonies, though rarely so used, are capital tub plants, and, though they are not very long in flower, their supreme beauty makes them desirable. They should certainly be grown in places where labour is not restricted and where there are suitable places for standing such plants away and caring for them in the off season.

For the same kind of use the Tree Lupines, both white and yellow, would be excellent. Funkia Sieboldi also makes a handsome tub, while for summer filling Cannas are admirable and old Geraniums in bush form always acceptable. I have never seen Acanthus used in this way, but can see no reason against it. The smaller Bamboos, such as the handsome broad-leaved B. tessellata, are very good in tubs. In speaking of plants suitable for tubs, I take the word to include the larger sizes of terra-cotta pots; but Agapanthus should never be planted in earthenware, as the roots, which remain for many years undisturbed, have so strong a rending power that they will burst anything less resisting than iron-hooped wood.

It is rare to see, anywhere in England, plant-tubs painted a pleasant colour. In nearly every garden they are painted a strong raw green with the hoops black, whereas any green that is not bright and raw would be much better. This matter of the colouring of all such garden accessories as have to be painted deserves more attention than it commonly receives. Doors in garden walls, trellises, wooden railings and hand-gates and seats—all these and any other items of woodwork that stand out in the garden and are seen among its flowers and foliage should, if painted green, be of such a green as does not for brightness come into competition with the green of leaves. In the case of tubs especially, it is the plant that is to be considered first—not the tub. The bright, harsh green on the woodwork makes the colour of the foliage look dull and ineffective. It would be desirable, in the case of solitary tub plants, to study the exact colour that would be most becoming to the flower and foliage; but as it is needful, to avoid a patchy appearance, to paint the whole of the tubs in any one garden-scheme the same colour, a tint should be chosen that is quiet in itself and that is lower in tone than the dullest of the foliage in any of the examples. Moreover, there is no reason for painting the hoops black; it is much better to paint the whole out of one pot.

A good quiet green can be made with black, chrome No. 1 and white lead; enough white being mixed to give the depth or lightness desired. A pretty colour of paint is much used in France that approximates to the colourman's malachite green. This is not the bright colour of malachite as we know the polished stone, but a pale, opaque bluish green approaching the turquoise tints. In the bright, clear climate of France, and in connexion with the higher type of French architecture, also in more southern countries, the colour looks very well, though it is not becoming to some foliage; but something quieter and more sober is better suited for England.

Elsewhere I have written of the deplorable effect in the garden landscape of the glaring white paint—still worse when tinted blue—that emphasises the ugliness of the usual greenhouse or conservatory. This may be mitigated, if the unsightly structure cannot be concealed, by adding to the white a good deal of black and raw umber, till the paint is of the quiet warm grey that for some strange reason is known to house-painters as Portland-stone colour.