It is idle to pretend that one enjoys a garden fully in November. The trees are fast becoming bare, lawn and paths are littered with falling leaves, the borders have sunk down very low, the beds are flowerless, save for a few Chrysanthemums and Roses. Moreover, there may be rain and fog to render outdoor Work unpleasant. When, however, one takes the proper view of November, as the great planting month of the year, wherein is laid the foundation of all that is to be good and great in the garden next season, new interest springs into life, and depression passes swiftly. Now has come the time for changes - extension of borders, alterations in beds, making of new lawns. We knew this, and we knew that we ought to begin quickly, lest bad weather should cause our operations to be suspended for a great many weeks later on. One must always seize the opportunity in gardening - make hay while the sun shines. A busy November gives one ease of mind for all the rest of the winter. There is no rush of spring work to worry one, and whatever is in hand can be done thoroughly.

A Brier Hedge. - We planted more Roses, and made a hedge of Penzance Briers, as much for the perfume of the leaves as the beauty of the flowers. After a shower the fragrance of Brier foliage is deliciously piquant. We did not quite calculate on the hedge reaching to 6 feet high (which it did in its second season), though.

Spring Flowers. - The nursery beds of seedling Wallflowers, Forget-me-nots, Sweet Williams, Canterbury Bells, Arabises, and Aubrietias were drawn upon, and the plants put into beds and borders.

Hardy bulbs of all kinds were planted, from dwarf Aconite to tall Galtonia. Hyacinths, Tulips, Daffodils, Snowdrops, Liliums, Crocuses - all were offered to us in a shower of lists and catalogues at prices which encouraged liberal planting.

Shrubs, too, were temptingly cheap. You can buy the same kind of shrub at prices showing a variation of two or three hundred per cent.; indeed, the nurseryman's traveller who calls may go farther, and after offering you Austrian Pines at thirty shillings per hundred, suddenly comes down on you with a staggering offer of "specimens" at a guinea a tree! We bought our shrubs small, and watched them grow. Very young "stuff" (in gardenese all shrubs are "stuff") may look a little meagre just at first, but it transplants well, so that the losses are few, and what ensue are hardly felt. We concentrated on a few special things - Berberis Darwinii, Forsythia suspensa, Cytisus Andréanus, Mezereon, Brooms, Kalmias, Magnolias, Olearia, Rhododendrons, Veronicas, and Viburnum Tinus, with a few others like silver variegated Maple, Amelanchiers, Allspice, ornamental Plums, Cherries, Apples, and Thorns, Dogwood, Deutzias, Weigela Eva Rathké, Snowdrop Tree (Halesia), Hydrangea paniculata, Scotch Laburnum, Honeysuckles, Mock Orange, Flowering Currants, Rubus, Spiraeas, and Lilacs.

The Conservatory. - Climbers for the conservatory were now preying on the mind of Eunice, and after much poring and brooding the following list was evolved: Roses Maréchal Niel, William Allen Richardson, Climbing Niphetos, and Homère, three sorts of Passiflora, Plumbago Capensis, Lapageria rosea and alba, Stephanotis, Solanum Jasminoides, Cestrum elegans, Tacsonia Van Volxemi, and Tibouchina (seen one day at Kew). For a house fifteen feet by ten, this was not so bad. Eunice would also have hanging baskets of Asparagus Sprengeri, Lachenalias, and Clianthus Dampieri (seen at Kew; a friend, by the way, has a weirdly beautiful plant of C. puniceus magnifiais on the south wall of his house, and it blooms magnificently). A temporary concession of one Rose, one Passion Flower, and a basket of Asparagus pacified her for the time. [It is so easy to overdo roof and pillar plants. One sees houses tangled with them, most of the plants unhealthy.] But she yielded only when provision was made for the planting out of a Camellia, and for tubs of Myrtle, Orange, and Clivia.

The Kitchen Garden. - Ground preparation went on. We made a sowing of Broad Beans and Peas, hoping to gain a little with our early crops next year. The Seakale which had been planted as thin "whips" in spring was now bare of leaves, and the biggest of the roots were lifted for forcing in a frame, the rest being left for outdoor forcing with ashes later on. Rhubarb and Asparagus were not of forcing strength yet. We had a fancy to try Mushrooms, and made up a foot deep bed of manure in a frame, which we spawned, soiled, and covered with litter.

The Fruit Garden. - It was planting time for fruit too, and with an example of success in our mind's eye of bush Apples on the Paradise stock we reclaimed another piece of land (the amazing Ancient flinging out tons of rubbish and breaking up rough, heavy ground with the vigour and relish of youth), and planted a select dozen of varieties, warranted to give us fruit from August to June, as follows: Duchess of Oldenburg, Lord Suffield, Stirling Castle, New Hawthornden, Potts's Seedling, Peasgood's Nonesuch, Cox's Pomona, Manks' Codlin, Ecklinville Seedling, Golden Noble, Lane's Prince Albert, and Newton Wonder. We pruned the cordons when the leaves were down, spurring the summer shoots close back, then gathered up leaves and prunings, dug, manured, and left all neat for winter. Safe, too, as we thought; but it is the unexpected which happens, for in a hard spell during winter, with thick snow upon the ground, rabbits found their way in through a gate carelessly left open, and, pressed by hunger, barked some of the trees severely. We plastered the wounded stems over with cow manure, and in most cases new bark grew, but one or two trees died.