The flowering of the Columbine is the beginning of summer. Tulips and Double Narcissi and stray Anemones may still afford bright colour or sweet fragrance, but they do not charm us any longer, for they are of the spring, and the spring is past. What a beautiful old flower it is—"the Columbine commendable," as Skelton called it four hundred years ago! Indeed, all the old garden writers mention it, its vigour and grace having always earned it a secure place in the English garden, where it has been grown for centuries "for the delight both of its form and colours." The Columbines of our ancestors were all varieties of the wild English species (Aquilegia vulgaris), and so vigorous and handsome do some of these plants become under garden cultivation, that it is questionable if any of the newer kinds surpass them in beauty. However, the various species of Aquilegia which have from time to time been added to our garden flora are to be counted with the most valuable of plants, among the best of them being the very curiously coloured red and orange species known as A. Skinneri, the tall golden A. chrysantha, and, perhaps most beautiful of all, the Rocky Mountain Columbine, A. cÆrulea, with its quaint green "horns of honey."

This is the month when the Pyrethrums and PÆonies, of which such splendid varieties have been raised by Messrs. Kelway and others, are in their glory, as also are the Snapdragons, Bride Gladioli, Pansies, Ranunculuses (of which the old R. asiaticus, though somewhat tender, may be easily grown in rich light soil if planted in February at a depth of two inches and kept well watered during the growing period), Madonna Lilies (which must be planted in good garden soil and left alone), Lilium elegans, and L. longiflorum, with its beautiful varieties (which like well-drained spongy soil containing plenty of leaf-mould).

If asked what was the typical garden flower of June, I suppose that nearly everyone would name the Rose. As a matter of fact, however, the great bulk of the Roses now grown in gardens—that is the members of the two great classes known to gardeners as Hybrid Perpetuals and Tea-Roses—are not seen at their best before July. But it is in June that the Wild Dog Roses of our English hedgerows are in their glory, as also are most of the Briars imported from other countries, together with the old Provence and other "Summer Roses." And, with the possible exception of some of the Teas, it may well be doubted if any roses surpass in beauty such "unimproved" species as the deliciously fragrant Macartney Rose (R. bracteata), the trailing Rosa Wichuriana with its pure white cups, or the sweet Eglantine. Speaking of the Eglantine, one is reminded of the lovely hybrids derived from it, known as the Penzance Briars, which combine the fragrant foliage of the Sweet-briar with various beautiful blossoms according to parentage. Perhaps the most beautiful of all of them is the variety known as Lady Penzance—descended from the Austrian Copper Briar and the Eglantine—which has single flowers of the most delicate blend of pink, yellow and orange. One great advantage which these single-flowered briars, as well as most of the June-flowering roses, have over the Hybrid Perpetuals is that they may be left practically unpruned, and so display the naturally graceful habit which is as important a part of the beauty of the Rose as is the flower itself.

Of all the flowers of June, I should myself crown the Pink (or Pentecost flower—for such is said to be the source of its name) for its fragrance, the Spanish Iris for the beauty of its flowers, and the Rose for its grace. The Flower-de-luce, or Iris, is of nearly a hundred species and of many hundred varieties, among which are some of the most beautiful flowers which can be grown in the open air of England. Many of the irises, however, require the expenditure of much knowledge and skill that they may prosper, but the so-called Spanish Irises, which are among the most wonderfully formed and coloured of all, may be grown by anyone who can grow ordinary hardy plants. They rejoice in sun, shelter and a light, well-drained soil.

The Iris is well named, for nearly every shade given by the rainbow is represented in one or other of its kinds, though there is none of the gaudy glaringness, commonly—though wrongly—attributed to that phenomenon. Spenser appreciated the unique quality of the beauty of the Iris, although he had not met with many of the splendid kinds which everyone may now grow.

June is a great month for old-fashioned flowers—the flowers of sentiment, as time and literature have made them—"gold-dusted Snapdragon," "Sweet William with his homely cottage smell," "Woodbine hanging bonnilie," "Foxglove cluster dappled bells," PÆony, Lilac, Laburnum and "fresh Hawthorne," each full of tender associations, and each very beautiful in itself.

In June a spirit of indolence begins to come over the gardener who grows his flowers in the open air. All through the months of spring, the garden contains—or should contain—numerous objects of beauty and numerous objects of interest, but not until June does the garden become swamped by a great sea of beauty, in the presence of which the modest gardener can but stand aside and gaze with wonder and enjoyment.