village and neighborhood. Organize expeditions into the surrounding
country in search of shrubs and plants. Such excursions can be made as
delightful as a picnic. Take with you a good-sized basket, to contain
the plants you gather, and some kind of a tool to dig the plants
with--and your dinner. Lift the plants very carefully, with enough earth
about them to keep their roots moist. On no account should their roots
be allowed to get dry. If this happens you might as well throw them
away, at once, as no amount of after-attention will undo the damage that
is done by neglect to carry out this advice.
[Illustration: PORCH BOX]
The search for plants should begin early in the season if they are to be
transplanted in spring, for it would not be safe to attempt their
removal after they have begun to make active growth. April is a good
time to look up your plants, and May a good time to bring them home.
Later on, when you come across a plant that seems a desirable addition
to your collection, mark the place where it grows, and transplant to the
home grounds in fall, after its leaves have ripened.
In transplanting shrubs and herbaceous plants, study carefully the
conditions under which they have grown, and aim to make the conditions
under which they _are to grow_ as similar to the original ones as
possible. Of course you will be able to do this only approximately, in
most instances, but come as near it as you can, for much of your success
depends on this. You can give your plants a soil similar to that in
which they have been growing, and generally, by a little planning, you
can arrange for exposure to sunshine, or a shaded location, according to
the nature of the plants you make use of. Very often it is possible to
so locate moisture-loving plants that they can have the damp soil so
many of them need, by planting them in low places or depressions where
water stands for some time after a rain, while those which prefer a dry
soil can be given places on knolls and stony places from which water
runs off readily. In order to do this part of the work well it will be
necessary to study your plants carefully before removing them from their
home in the wood or field. Aim to make the change as easy as possible
for them. This can only be done by imitating natural conditions--in
other words, the conditions under which they have been growing up to the
time when you undertake their domestication.
Not knowing, at the start, the kind of plants our collection will
contain, as it grows, we can have no definite plan to work to.
Consequently there will be a certain unavoidable lack of system in the
arrangement of the wild garden. But this may possibly be one of the
chief charms of it, after a little. A garden formed on this plan--or
lack of plan--will seem to have evolved itself, and the utter absence of
all formality will make it a more cunning imitation of Nature's methods
than it would ever be if we began it with the intention of imitating
her.
Among our early-flowering native plants worthy a place in any garden
will be found the Dogwoods, the Plums, the Crab-apple, and the wild
Rose. Smaller plants, like the Trillium, the Houstonia, the Bloodroot,
the Claytonia and the Hepatica, will work in charmingly in the
foreground. Between them can be used many varieties of Fern, if the
location is shaded somewhat, as it should be to suit the flowering
plants I have named.
Among the summer-flowering sorts we have Aquilegia, Daisy, Coreopsis,
Cranesbill, Eupatorium, Meadow Sweet, Lily, Helianthus, Enothera,
Rudbeckia, Vervain, Veronia, Lobelia and many others that grow here and
there, but are not found in all parts of the country, as those I have
named are, for the most part.
Among the shrubs are Elder, Spirea, Clethra, Sumach, Dogwood, and others
equally as desirable.
Among the late bloomers are the Solidagos (Golden Rod), Asters,
Helenium, Ironweed, and others which continue to bloom until cold
weather is at hand.
Among the desirable vines are the Ampelopsis, which vies with the Sumach
in richness of color in fall, the Bittersweet, with its profusion of
fruitage as brilliant as flowers, and the Clematis, beautiful in bloom,
and quite as attractive later, when its seeds take on their peculiar
feathery appendages that make the plant look as if a gray plume had been
torn apart and scattered over the plant, portions of it adhering to
every branch in the most airy, graceful manner imaginable.
Though I have named only our most familiar wild plants, it will be
observed that the list is quite a long one. No one need be afraid of not
being able to obtain plants enough to stock a good-sized garden. The
trouble will be, in most instances, to find room for all the plants you
would like to have represented in your collection, after you become
thoroughly interested in the delightful work of making it. The
attraction of it will increase as the collection increases, and as you
discover what a wealth of material for garden-making we have at our very
doors, without ever having dreamed of its existence, you will be tempted
to exceed the limitations of the place because of the embarrassment of
riches which makes a decision between desirable plants difficult. You
can have but few of them, but you would like all.
THE WINTER GARDEN
Most persons who are the owners of gardens seem to be under the
impression that we must close the summer volume of Nature's book at the
end of the season, and that it must remain closed until the spring of
another year invites us to a re-perusal of its attractive pages. In
other words, that we are not expected to derive much pleasure from the
garden for six months of the year.
There is no good reason why the home-grounds should not be attractive
the year round if we plant for winter as well as summer effect.
True, we cannot have flowers in winter, but we can secure color-effects
with but little trouble that will make good, to a considerable extent,
the lack of floral color. Without these the winter landscape is cold,
though beautiful, and to most persons it will seem dreary and monotonous
in its chill whiteness. But to those who have "the seeing eye," there
are always elements of wonderful beauty in it, and there is ample
material at hand with which to give it the touches of brightness that
can make it almost as attractive as it is in June.
If the reader will carefully study the two illustrations accompanying
this chapter, he will have to admit that the winter garden has many
attractive features that the summer garden cannot boast of. These
illustrations are summer and winter views of the same spot, taken from
one of our public parks. The summer view shows a wealth of foliage and
bloom, and is one of Nature's beauty-spots that we never tire of. But
the winter view has in it a suggestion of breadth and distance that adds
wonderfully to the charm of the scene, brought out as it is by the naked
branches against the sky, and glimpses of delightful vistas farther on,
which are entirely hidden by the foliage that interferes with the
outlook in the summer picture. Note how the evergreens stand out sharply
against the background, and how clearly every shrub--every branch--is
outlined by the snow. It is one of Nature's etchings. Whatever color
there is in the landscape is heightened and emphasized by strong, vivid
contrast. There are little touches of exquisite beauty in this picture
that cannot be found in the other.
Most of us plant a few evergreens about our homes. Sometimes we are
fortunate enough to locate them where they will prove effective. Oftener
we put them where they have no chance to display their charms to good
effect. They do not belong near the house--least of all in the "front
yard." They must be admired at a distance which will soften their
coarseness of habit. You must be far enough away from them to be able to
take in their charms of form and color at a glance, to observe the
graceful sweep of their branches against the snow, and to fully bring
out the strength and richness of color, none of which things can be done
at close range. Looked at from a proper and respectful distance, every
good specimen of evergreen will afford a great deal of pleasure. But it
might be made to afford a great deal more if we were to set about it in
the right way. Why not make our evergreens serve as backgrounds against
which to bring out colors that rival, to some extent, the flowers of
summer?
Have you never taken a tramp along the edge of the woodland in winter,
and come suddenly upon a group of Alders? What brightness seemed to
radiate from their spikes of scarlet berries! The effect is something
like that of a flame, so intense is it. It seems to radiate through the
winter air with a thrill of positive warmth. So strong an impression do
they make upon the eye that you see them long after you have passed
them. They photograph themselves there. Why should we not transplant
this bit of woodland glory to the garden, and heighten the effect of it
by giving it an evergreen as a background? Its scarlet fire, seen
against the dark greenery of Spruce or Arbor Vitae, would make the winter
garden fairly glow with color.
I have seen the red-branched Willow planted near an evergreen, and the
contrast of color brought out every branch so keenly that it seemed
chiselled from coral. The effect was exquisite.
Train Celastrus _scandens_, better known as Bittersweet, where its
pendant clusters of red and orange can show against evergreens, and you
produce an effect that can be equalled by few flowers.
The Berberry is an exceedingly useful shrub with which to work up vivid
color-effects in winter. It shows attractively among other shrubs, is
charming when seen against a drift of snow, but is never quite so
effective as when its richness of coloring is emphasized by contrast by
the sombre green of a Spruce or Balsam.
Our native Cranberry--Viburnum _opulus_--is one of our best
berry-bearing shrubs. It holds its crimson fruit well in winter. Planted
among--not against--evergreens, it is wonderfully effective because of
its tall and stately habit.
Bayberry (Myrica _cerifera_) is another showy-fruited shrub. Its
grayish-white berries are thickly studded along its brown branches, and
are retained through the winter. If this is planted side by side with
the Alder, the effect will be found very pleasing.
The Snowberry (Symphoricarpus _racemosus_) has been cultivated for
nearly a hundred years in our gardens, and probably stands at the head
of the list of white-fruited shrubs. If this is planted in front of
evergreens the purity of its color is brought out charmingly. Group it
with the red-barked Willow, the Alder, or the Berberry, and you secure a
contrast that makes the effect strikingly delightful--a symphony in
green, scarlet, and white. If to this combination you add the blue of a
winter sky or the glow of a winter sunset, who can say there is not
plenty of color in a winter landscape?
The value of the Mountain Ash in winter decoration is just beginning to
be understood. If it retained its fruit throughout the entire season it
would be one of our most valuable plants, but the birds claim its
crimson fruit as their especial property, and it is generally without a
berry by Christmas in localities where robins and other berry-eating
birds linger late in the season. Up to that time it is exceedingly
attractive, especially if it is planted where it can have the benefit of
strong contrast to bring out the rich color of its great clusters.
Because of its tall and stately habit it will be found very effective
when planted between evergreens, with other bright-colored shrubs in the
foreground.
There are many shrubs whose berries are blue, and purple, and black.
While these are not as showy as those of scarlet and white, they are
very attractive, and can be made extremely useful in the winter garden.
They should not be neglected, because they widen the range of color to
such an extent that the charge of monotony of tone in the winter
landscape is ineffective.
The Ramanas Rose (R. _lucida_) has very brilliant clusters of crimson
fruit which retains its beauty long after the holidays. This shrub is
really more attractive in winter than in summer.
It will be understood, from what I said at the beginning of this
chapter, that I put high value on the decorative effect of leafless
shrubs. Their branches, whether traced against a background of sky or
snow, make an embroidery that has about it a charm that summer cannot
equal in delicacy. A Bittersweet, clambering over bush or tree, and
displaying its many clusters of red and orange against a background of
leafless branches, with the intense blue of winter sky showing through
them, makes a picture that is brilliant in the extreme, when you
consider the relative values of the colors composing it. Then you will
discover that the charm is not confined to the color of the fruit, but
to the delicate tracery of branch and twig, as well.
WINDOW AND VERANDA BOXES
Somebody had a bright thought when the window-box came into existence.
The only wonder is that persons who were obliged to forego the pleasure
of a garden did not think it out long ago. It is one of the
"institutions" that have come to stay. We see more of them every year.
Those who have gardens--or could have them, if they wanted them--seem to
have a decided preference for the window-box substitute.
There is a good reason for this: The window-box brings the garden to
one's room, while the garden obliges one to make it a visit in order to
enjoy the beauty in it. With the window-box the upstair room can be made
as pleasant as those below, and the woman in the kitchen can enjoy the
companionship of flowers while she busies herself with her housewifely
duties, if she does not care to make herself a back-yard garden such as
I have spoken of in a preceding chapter. And the humble home that has
no room for flowers outside its walls, the homes in the congested city,
away up, up, up above the soil in which a few flowers might possibly be
coaxed to grow, if man thought less of gain and more of beauty, can be
made more like what home ought to be, with but little trouble and
expense, by giving these boxes a chance to do their good work at their
windows. Blessed be the window-box!
Many persons, however, fail to attain success in the cultivation of
plants in boxes at the window-sill, and their failures have given rise
to the impression in the minds of those who have watched their
undertaking, that success with them is very problematical. "It _looks_
easy," said a woman to me last season, "when you see somebody else's box
just running over with vines, but when you come to make the attempt for
yourself you wake up to the fact that there's a knack to it that most of
us fail to discover. I've tried my best, for the last three years, to
have such boxes as my neighbor has, and I haven't found out what's wrong
yet. I invest in the plants that are told me to be best adapted to
window-box culture. I plant them, and then I coax them and coddle them.
I fertilize them and I shower them, but they stubbornly refuse to do
well. They _start off_ all right, but by the time they ought to be doing
great things they begin to look rusty, and it isn't long before they
look so sickly and forlorn that I feel like putting them out of their
misery by dumping them in the ash-heap."
Now this woman's experience is the experience of many other women. She
thinks,--and they think,--that they lack the "gift" that enables some
persons to grow flowers successfully while others fail utterly with
them. They haven't "the knack." Now, as I have said elsewhere in this
book, there's no such thing as "a knack" in flower-growing. Instead of
"a knack" it's a "know-how." Ninety-nine times out of a hundred failure
with window-boxes is due to just one thing: They let their plants die
simply because they do not give them water enough.
Liberal watering is the "know-how" that a person must have to make a
success of growing; good plants in window and veranda boxes. Simply
that, and nothing more.
The average woman isn't given to "studying into things" as much as the
average man is, so she often fails to get at the whys and wherefores of
many happenings. She sees the plants in her boxes dying slowly, but she
fails to take note of the fact that evaporation from these boxes is
very rapid. It could not be otherwise because of their exposure to wind
and air on all sides. She applies water in quantities only sufficient to
wet the surface of the soil, and because that looks moist she concludes
there must be sufficient moisture below and lets it go at that.
Examination would show her that an inch below the surface the soil in
the box is very, very dry,--so dry, in fact, that no roots could find
sustenance in it. This explains why plants "start off" well. While young
and small their roots are close to the surface, and as long as they
remain in that condition they grow well enough, but as soon as they
attempt to send their roots down--as all plants do, after the earlier
stages of growth--they find no moisture, and in a short time they die.
If, instead of applying a basinful of water, a pailful were used, daily,
all the soil in a box of ordinary size would be made moist all through,
and so long as a supply of water is kept up there is no reason why just
as fine plants cannot be grown in boxes as in pots, or the garden beds.
There is no danger of overwatering, for all surplus water will run off
through the holes in the box, provided for drainage. Therefore make it a
rule to apply to your window-box, every day, throughout the season,
enough water to thoroughly saturate all the soil in it. If this is done,
you will come to the conclusion that at last you have discovered the
"knack" upon which success depends.
I am often asked what kind of boxes I consider best. To which I reply:
"The kind that comes handiest." It isn't the box that your plants grow
in that counts for much. It's the care you give. Of course the soil
ought to be fairly rich, though a soil of ordinary fertility can be made
to answer all purposes if a good dose of plant food is given
occasionally. Care should be taken, however, not to make too frequent
use of it, as it is an easy matter to force a growth that will be weak
because of its rapidity, and from which there may be a disastrous
reaction after a little. The result to aim at is a healthy growth, and
when you secure that, be satisfied with it.
The idea prevails to a considerable extent that one must make use of
plants specially adapted to window-box culture. Now the fact is--almost
any kind of plant can be grown in these boxes, there being no "special
adaption" to this purpose, except as to profusion of bloom and habit of
growth. Drooping plants are desirable to trail over the sides of the
box, and add that touch of grace which is characteristic of all
vines. Plants that bloom freely throughout the season should be
chosen in preference to shy and short-season bloomers. Geraniums,
Petunias, Verbenas, Fuchsias, Salvias, Heliotropes, Paris Daisies--all
these are excellent.
[Illustration: PORCH BOX]
If one cares to depend on foliage for color, most pleasing results can
be secured by making use of the plants of which mention has been made in
the chapter on Carpet-Bedding.
Vines that will give satisfaction are Glechoma, green, with yellow
variegation--Vinca _Harrisonii_, also green and yellow, Moneywort,
German Ivy, Tradescantia, Thunbergia, and Othonna. A combination of
plants with richly-colored foliage is especially desirable for boxes on
the porch or veranda, where showiness seems to be considered as more
important than delicacy of tint or refinement of quality. In these boxes
larger plants can be used than one would care to give place to at the
window. Here is where Cannas and Caladiums will be found very effective.
Ferns, like the Boston and Pierson varieties, are excellent for not too
sunny window-boxes because of their graceful drooping and spreading
habit. They combine well with pink-and-white Fuchsias, rose-colored Ivy
Geraniums, and the white Paris Daisy. Petunias--the single sorts
only--are very satisfactory, because they bloom so freely and
constantly, and have enough of the droop in them to make them as useful
in covering the sides of the box as they are in spreading over its
surface. If pink and white varieties are used to the exclusion of the
mottled and variegated kinds the effect will be found vastly more
pleasing than where there is an indiscriminate jumbling of colors.
A foot in width, a foot in depth, and the length of the window frame to
which it is to be attached is a good size for the average window-box.
Great care must be taken to see that it is securely fastened to the
frame, and that it is given a strong support, for the amount of earth it
will contain will be of considerable weight when well saturated with
water.
Veranda boxes, in which larger plants are to be used, should be
considerably deeper and wider than the ordinary window-box. Any box of
the size desired that is substantial enough to hold a sufficient amount
of soil will answer all purposes, therefore it is not necessary to
invest in expensive goods unless you have so much money that economy is
no object to you. If your plants grow as they ought to no one can tell,
by midsummer, whether your box cost ten dollars or ten cents. If it is
of wood, give it a coat of some neutral-colored paint before you fill
it.
SPRING WORK IN THE GARDEN
Not much actual work can be done in the garden, at the north, before the
middle of April. But a good deal can be done toward getting ready for
active work as soon as conditions become favorable.
Right here let me say that it is a most excellent plan to do all that
can be done to advantage as early in the season as possible, for the
reason that when the weather becomes warm, work will come with a rush,
and in the hurry of it quite likely some of it will be slighted. Always
aim to keep ahead of your work.
I believe, as I have several times said, in planning things. Your garden
may be small--so small that you do not think it worth while to give much
consideration to it in the way of making plans for it--but it will pay
you to think over the arrangement of it in advance. "Making garden"
doesn't consist simply in spading up a bed, and putting seed into the
ground. Thought should be given to the location and arrangement of each
kind of flower you make use of. The haphazard location of any plant is
likely to do it injustice, and the whole garden suffers in consequence.
Make a mental picture of your garden as you would like to have it, and
then take an inventory of the material you have to work with, and see
how near you can come to the garden you have in mind. Try to find the
proper place for every flower. Study up on habit, and color, and season
of bloom, and you will not be likely to get things into the wrong place
as you will be almost sure to do if you do not give considerable thought
to this matter. There should be orderliness and system in the garden as
well as in the house, and this can only come by knowing your plants, and
so locating them that each one of them will have the opportunity of
making the most of itself.
Beds can be spaded as soon as the frost is out of the ground, as advised
in the chapter on The Garden of Annuals, but, as was said in that
chapter, it is not advisable to do more with them at that time. If the
ground is worked over when wet, the only result is that you get a good
many small clods to take the place of large ones. Nothing is gained by
being in a hurry with this part of the work. Pulverization of the soil
can only be accomplished successfully after it has parted with the
excessive moisture consequent on melting snows and spring rains.
Therefore let it lie as thrown up by the spade until it is in a
condition to crumble readily under the application of hoe or rake.
Shrubs can be reset as soon as frost is out of the ground. Remove all
defective roots when this is done. Make the soil in which you plant them
quite rich, and follow the instruction given in the chapter on Shrubs as
carefully as possible, in the work of resetting.