Much cheerful positive colour, other than that given by flowers or leaves, may be obtained in winter by using a good selection of small trees with coloured bark. Of these the most useful are the Red Dogwood and some of the willows. This planting for colour of bright-barked trees is no new thing, for something like half a century ago the late Lord Somers, at Eastnor Castle near Malvern, used to "paint his woods," as he described it, in this way.

The Cardinal Willow has bright red bark, Salix britzensis orange, and the Golden Osier bright yellow. The yearly growth has the best-coloured bark, so that when they are employed for giving colour it is usual to cut them every winter; moreover, the large quantity of young shoots that the cutting induces naturally increases the density of the colour-effect. But if they are planted in a rather large way it is better that the regular winter cutting should be restricted to those near the outer edge, and to let a good proportion of those within stand for two or more years, and to have some in the background that are never cut at all, but that are allowed to grow to their full size and to show their natural habit.

It will also be well to avoid planting them exclusively sort by sort, but to group and intergroup carefully assorted colours, such as the scarlet Willow with the purple-barked kind, and to let this pass into the American Willow with the black stem. Such a group should not be too large, and it should be near the pathway, for it will show best near at hand. For the sake of the bark-colouring, it would be best to cut it all every year, although in the larger plantings it is desirable to have the trees of different ages, or the effect may be too much that of a mere crop instead of a well-arranged garden grouping.

Some of the garden Roses, both of the free-growing and bush kinds, have finely coloured bark that can be used in much the same way. They are specially good in broken ground, such as the banks of an old hollow cart-way converted to garden use, or the sloping dÉbris of a quarry. Of the free kinds, the best coloured are Rosa ferruginea, whose leaves are red as well as the stem—it is the Rosa rubrifolia of nurseries;—and the varieties of Boursault Roses, derived from Rosa alpina. As bushes for giving reddish colouring, Rosa lucida would be among the best.

By waterside the Great Reedmace—commonly but wrongly called Bulrush—holds its handsome seed-heads nearly through the winter, and beds of the Common Reed (Arundo Phragmites) stand up winter through in masses of light, warm colouring that are grateful to the eye and suggest comfortable harbourage for wildfowl.

Some shrubs have conspicuously green bark, such as the Spindletree; but the habit of growth is rather too diffuse to let it make a distinct show of colour. Leycesteria formosa is being tried in mass for winter colour in some gardens, but I venture to feel a little doubtful of its success; for though the skin of the half-woody stem is bright green, the plant has the habit of retaining some of its leaves and the remains of its flowering tips till January, or even later. After frost these have the appearance of untidy grey rags, and are distinctly unsightly. The brightest effect of all green-barked plants is that given by Whortleberry, a plant that on peaty or sandy soils is one of the most enjoyable of winter undershrubs.

It would add greatly to the enjoyment of many country places if some portions were planted with evergreens expressly for winter effect. Some region on the outskirts of the garden, and between it and woodland, would be the most desirable. If well done the sense of wintry discomfort would disappear, for nearly all the growing things would be at their best, and even in summer, shrubs and plants can do no more than this. In summer, too, it would be good to see, for the green things would have such an interplanting of free Roses, Jasmines, Clematis, Honeysuckles, Forsythia, and so on, as would make charming incidents of flower-beauty.

The place for this winter walk should be sheltered from the north and east. I have such a place in my mind's eye, where, beyond the home garden and partly wooded old shrubbery, there is a valley running up into a fir-wooded hill. The path goes up the hillside diagonally, with a very gentle gradient. In the cooler, lower portion there would be Rhododendrons and Kalmias, with lower growths of Skimmia and Gaultheria. Close to the path, on the less sunny side, would be Lent Hellebores and the delightful winter greenery of Epimedium. Then in full sun Andromeda japonica, and on the shadier side Andromeda floribunda. Both of these hard and rather brittle-wooded shrubs belong to the group properly named Pieris, and form dense bushes four or more feet high. At their foot would be the lower-growing Andromedas of the Leucothoe section, with lissome branches of a more willow-like character. These make a handsome ground-carpeting from one to two feet high, beautiful at all seasons—the leaves in winter tinted or marbled with red. Portions of the cooler side would also have fringes of Hartstongue and Polypody, both winter ferns. Then, as the path rose into more direct sunlight, there would be Cistuses—in all mild winter days giving off their strong, cordial scent—and the dwarf Rhododendrons. Behind the Cistuses would be White Broom, finely green-stemmed in winter. There would even be shrubs in flower; the thick-set yellowish bloom of Witch Hazel (Hamamelis) and the bright yellow of Jasminum nudiflorum. Then groups of Junipers, and all the ground carpeted with Heath, and so to the upper Fir-wood. Then, after the comforting greenery of the lower region, the lovely colour of distant winter landscape would be intensely enjoyable; for the greys and purples of the leafless woodland of middle distance have a beauty that no summer landscape can show. In clear weather the further distances have tints of an extraordinary purity, while the more frequent days of slightly distant haze have another kind of beautiful mystery.

The common Laurel is generally seen as a long-suffering garden hack, put to all sorts of rather ignoble uses. It is so cheap to buy, so quick of growth, and so useful as an easily made screen that its better use is, except in rare instances, lost sight of. Planted in thin woodland and never pruned, it grows into a small tree that takes curious ways and shapes of trunk and branch of a character that is remarkably pictorial.