A faint shade of depression is liable to steal on us at the thought of October. Many give up gardening for the year when they see the leaves begin to fall, but if we had done so we should have lost much pleasure. Flowers were still abundant, and how can one think of closing down for the year while the garden remains gay? There are gaps in the beds, to be sure, and the borders have sensibly sunk, but we are not at the end of things yet by any means. The Dahlias are going strongly, the Chrysanthemums are in their prime, and the Michaelmas Daisies are a glory. If frosts keep away, as they sometimes do the whole month through, flowers are still abundant on Sweet Peas.

Red Hot Pokers (Tritomas) are among the noblest plants of the autumnal garden. A bold group of aloides or one of its varieties gives a fine effect.

The Pampas Grass also looks well in October, lighting up the occasional murky days in a very cheerful manner.

One of the best autumnal Roses is Griiss an Teplitz, which keeps on flowering until hard frost. This makes a very beautiful bed, owing to its vigorous growth and free blooming. It is good for cutting, as the highly perfumed flowers are borne in large clusters. We liked Alister Stella Gray as an autumn Rose too, but it is not so sweet as the German variety.

Tuberous Begonias. - It was not Wilkins alone who found joy in the splendid bed of these which we had. It actually improved in October, the moisture and cool nights suiting the plants. The flowers made a wonderful spread, of colour, enlivening the dull days as with sunshine. Towards the end of the month the bed thinned a little, as the foliage ripened and the flower stems weakened. Wilkins hovered round the bed in an ecstasy of delight. It was as good as ever they had had at The Highlands, and how the old squire would love to have it. Wilkins never passed without stooping to scrutinise a flower, which he would raise with the loving and tender gentleness of a mother, and gaze on with a beaming yet wistful face.

Boltonia asteroides rivals the Michaelmas Daisies, and might easily be mistaken for one if it were not looked at closely. The long sprays of bloom are very graceful, and they last.

Winter Storage. - It was not till the very last day of the month that a frost sharp enough to blacken the

Dahlias came. From that time we busied ourselves in preparing for winter storage. The Dahlias were cut down, lifted, and stored in an outhouse. The Gladioli were lifted too, sorted, cleaned, and stored. Lastly the Begonias were pronounced to be over, and, though not without a protest which almost amounted to rebellion, the bed was cleared.

Rose Cuttings. - Eunice had fallen in with an old clergyman who had a passion for Roses on their own roots (he shared this with a great reverence for ritual, but that did not concern her). Eunice was constantly making wonderful discoveries about plants from the various people she met and talked gardening with, and everything fresh that she heard she brought home eagerly, as something calculated to revolutionise the garden. Wilkins and she put in a batch of Rose cuttings together, while the author looked on with indulgent toleration. [Some of them made very good plants eventually, but he is not prepared to admit that we can do away entirely with plants worked on stocks.]

Tulips after Violas. - We took young shoots from the Violas, inserted them, and threw away the old plants, which were now of little value. In their place we planted our May Tulips, with tufts of Arabis and Aubrietia among them to relieve the bareness of the soil.

Daffodils after Asters. - The Asters, Stocks, and other annuals being over, the beds were filled with Narcissi. One can buy such useful things as Poeticus, Barri conspicuus, Empress, and Horsefieldi by the thousand if necessary without any great drain on one's purse.

Frames of Violets. - Regardless of the fact that the frames were nominally restricted to the duty of feeding the conservatory, Eunice insisted on two being put on a bed of manure for Violets. When the author expostulated, reminding her of the duty of the frames, she said: "Bother! Buy a lot more!" Frames, then, are to be picked up at any corner for ninepence a dozen! He had not been aware of it previously. She chose Marie Louise, Comte de Brazza, La France, and Princess of Wales for her varieties.

The Conservatory. - Dutch bulbs are available now, so we put in Hyacinths and Tulips, and early Liliums. Likewise we get Lilies of the Valley, Spiraea Japonica, Dielytra spectabilis, Deutzia gracilis, and other roots. We pot Ixias, and we pot Spar axis. All these things are cheap, and we know that they will do us good service in winter and spring. We pot, too, some big clumps of Christmas Roses, to give us white bloom in the dull days. More Arum Lilies were potted up from the open ground, and first reduced Eunice to the depths of despair by pretending to die, and then started growing with great determination, which is the way of Arum Lilies.

Zonals. - Eunice had succeeded in keeping Zonal Geraniums out of the garden, but she made no effort to keep them out of the conservatory after she had seen a houseful in the garden of an acquaintance. [You may get away from the Zonal as a summer flower, but you cannot very well escape it as a winter one. It is too convincing. After all, there is a natural explanation. Those fiery, aggressive colours, so flauntingly assertive on brilliant summer days, give us the very warmth and cheerfulness we want in the dull months of winter. One may buy young plants, coming on for flowering, with no dread of bankruptcy proceedings, if the newest sorts are not chosen. Afterwards the best of them may be increased by cuttings.]

Bouvardias are very cheerful, too; and in the main a little softer in tone than the Zonals.

The Kitchen Garden. - The Ancient had left us in the hot weather, having, he explained to Wilkins, "got a better jäab." (This "jäab" consisted of scaring birds off a field of Peas on a neighbouring farm. The Ancient performed it by the aid of a pipe, which he smoked somnolently on a gate, and a gun, which he let off every time he woke up, whether there were birds about or not.) He now returned and solicited reengagement, on the ground that he was now eighty-dree, and was prepared to show "air a one" how to dig. He was therefore given the task of digging and manuring for the next season.

The Fruit Garden. - We finished gathering. The crop had not been exactly gigantic, but it had encouraged us, and after all one must not fruit young trees too heavily the first year.