have" rose. Our faith in it has never known a moment of doubt. It has not known how to fail.
     In this same bouquet of roses on the table is a bloom of the Bourbon Climber, Zephirine Drouhin, the one climbing rose we hope to have with us as long as our rose-life carries on, and the one we would choose, had we to decide between it and Silver Moon, much as we love Silver Moon. Its large open rose-red blooms are very fragrant. The deep red young foliage is as lovely as the roses are and the freedom with which the plant pushes up new stalks is a habit upon which one may pin his faith. A rose with that sort of vigor does not intend to die. The fact that the stalks are thornless does not mean so much. Thorns are a part of rose form and the absence of thorns, while an advantage in handling, gives a bush a somewhat bald appearance. Perhaps Zephirine Drouhin may not always and everywhere give an autumn flowering. It has with us. But the spring bloom, if that were all, and the gorgeous young foliage would be enough. The fragrance would be a borrowed asset.
     We said above what we thought about Rosa alba. It may be the upright habit of growing, the ability to get its foliage and blooms up into the sun and air, that makes Alba stronger and more faithful than Centifolia which bends, or Gallica which grows low or even Damascena. No one can doubt the substantial dependability of Centifolia. It has been proving its faithfulness for twenty centuries and is a rose of unquestionable soundness. One's faith in Centifolia is never open to doubt.
     Due to the shortage of labor in our vicinity, we have had to let nature have its way in a part of the place where many of the oldest and sincerest June-flowering bushes are planted. Occasional clearing of big weeds has been about all these bushes have had. Among them is a Centifolia which we have puzzled over for along time, to arrive finally at the conclusion that it is the old Childing's Provence of the English, probably a Centifolia somewhat hybridized with Gallica. This rose has no intention of being beaten out by lack of culture or competition with that lovely weed, the Queen's ear-rings or some such name. This hardy rose produced its uplifted compounded clusters made up of corymbs of blooms, grouping into fifteen or twenty or maybe more, bright pink to rosy red flowers, paleron the edges, each

rose dressed for the season with the loveliest winged and spatulate sepals,--this delightful grandmother's rose bloomed in its extravagance as though it had been cultivated every week and there was not a weed within a hundred feet of it. The amusing thing about this rose is that it had a number of names, all based upon this production of immense and compounded clusters. It was called Mater Familias, La Mère Gigogne,--the old lady who lived in a shoe,--and Prolifera. The several names indicate that long life had already become a feature. A rose does not acquire a surplus of names if it is not a dependable, long-lived sort. We pin much faith in this old lady who lived in a shoe, otherwise Childing's, color-plates of which may be enjoyed in the old rose books.
     When speaking about the Centifolias and their splendid ability to hold onto life and do the expected thing, we must not omit the Moss roses. The less Moss roses are complicated by hybridizing the better they seem to be. Old Common Moss can take what comes. A variety raised by Victor Verdier in 1841 Called Malvina blooms in larger clusters and is very double; the pink flowers shaded at the edges and fragrant. This is a dependable Moss. The old red Moss found in many old gardens seems to feel its obligation to live and bloom. The red of this old Moss is a rosy red. The later Henri Martin is a richer color but not so well mossed. Old red never fails.
     In this little review of roses which do not know how to fail we should be sure to mention that old Hybrid Perpetual, Magna Charta. Among the first roses we planted on this place in 1915 or 1916, were two bushes of Magna Charta. One year some person dug up a bush and left a fine deep hole. The other of the two is with us yet and is a good old friend sure to perform every year. Recently a second plant was given to us and at this moment there is on it an autumn bloom. The older Hybrid Perpetuals have great staying power. With the infusion of Hybrid Tea into the Hybrid Perpetuals a strain of absolute certainty was weakened. The December freeze of last year gave a terrible beat-ing to Mrs. John Laing and Georg Arends and even to Frau Karl Druschki and descendants of that splendid rose. General Jacqueminot, American Beauty and Giant of Battles came smiling through.