spring we find their leaves decaying from the effect of too much
moisture, and this decay is likely to be communicated to the crown of
the plant, and that means failure. Of late years I protect my plants by
inverting small boxes over them. The sides of these boxes are bored full
of holes to admit air, which must be allowed to circulate freely about
the plant, or it will smother. I invert a box over the plant after
filling it with leaves, and draw more leaves about the outside of it.
This prevents water from coming in contact with the soft, sponge-like
foliage, and the plant comes out in spring almost as green as it was in
fall.
* * * * *
Plants can be moved with comparative safety any time during the summer
if one is careful to disturb their roots as little as possible. Take
them up with a large amount of soil adhering, and handle so carefully
that it will not break apart. It is a good plan to apply enough water
before attempting to lift them to thoroughly saturate all the soil
containing the roots. This will hold the earth together, and prevent
exposure of the roots, which is the main thing to guard against.
* * * * *
After putting the plant in place, apply water liberally, and then mulch
the soil about it with grass-clippings or manure. Of course removal at
that season will check the growth of the plant to a considerable extent,
and probably end its usefulness for the remainder of the season. Unless
absolutely necessary, I would not attempt the work at this time, for
spring and fall are the proper seasons for doing it.
* * * * *
In a letter recently received a lady asks this question: "Do you believe
in flower-shows? If you think they help the cause of flower-growing,
will you kindly tell me how to go to work to organize such a society?"
To the first question I reply: I _do_ believe in flower-shows and
horticultural societies when they are calculated to increase the love
and appreciation of flowers _as_ flowers, rather than to call attention
to the skill of the florist in producing freaks which are only
attractive as curiosities. I sincerely hope that the day of
Chrysanthemums a foot across and Roses as large as small Cabbages is on
the wane.
* * * * *
The thing to do in organizing a floral association is--to paraphrase
Horace Greeley's famous advice as to the resumption of specie
payment--to organize! In other words, to get right down to business and
give the proposed society a start by bringing flower-loving people
together, and beginning to work without wasting time on unnecessary
details. If you make use of much "red tape" you will kill the
undertaking at the outset. Simply form your society and appoint your
committees, and you will find that the various matters which perplex you
when looked at in the whole will readily adjust themselves to the
conditions that arise as the society goes on with its work. Put theories
aside, and _do something_, and you will find very little difficulty in
making your society successful if you can secure a dozen really
interested persons as members. I would be glad to know that such a
society existed in every community.
* * * * *
I would advise my readers never to have anything to do with
plant-peddlers. Of course it is _possible_ for the man who goes about
the country with plants for sale to be as honest as any other man, but
we see so few indications of the possession of honest principles by the
majority of these men that we have come to consider them all
unreliable, and, as a matter of protection, we have to refuse to
patronize any of them at the risk of doing injustice to those who may be
strictly reliable. They will sell you Roses that have a different
colored flower each month throughout the season, blue Roses,
Resurrection Plants that come to life at a snap of the finger, and are
equally valuable for decorative purposes and for keeping moths out of
clothing, and numerous other things rare, wonderful, and all high
priced, every one of which can be classed among the humbugs. Patronize
dealers in whom you are justified in having confidence because of a
well-established reputation for fair dealing.
* * * * *
The Hollyhock is often attacked by what is called "rust." The leaves
become brown, and dry at the edges, and the entire plant has a look much
like that of a nail which has been for some time in water, hence the
popular name of the disease. This "rust" is really a fungoid trouble,
and unless it is promptly checked it will soon spread to other plants.
If it appears on several plants at the same time, I would advise cutting
them, and burning every branch and stalk. If but one plant is attacked,
I would spray it with Bordeaux Mixture, which can now be obtained in
paste form from most florists. This is the only dependable remedy I know
of for the fungus ills that plants are heir to. Asparagus is often so
badly affected with it, of late years, that many growers have been
obliged to mow down their plants and burn their tops in midsummer, in
their efforts to save their stock. Never leave any of the cut-off
portions of a plant on the ground, thinking that cutting down is all
that is necessary. The fungus spores will survive the winter, and be
ready for work in spring. Burn everything.
* * * * *
A house whose foundation walls are left fully exposed always has an
unfinished look. But if we hide them by shrubs and flowering plants the
place takes on a look of completion, and the effect is so pleasing that
we wonder why any house should be left with bare walls. The plants about
it seem to unite it with the grounds in such a manner that it becomes a
part of them. But the house whose walls are without the grace of "green
things growing," always suggest that verse in the Good Book which tells
of "being _in_ the world, but not _of_ it."
I would always surround the dwelling with shrubs and perennials, and use
annuals and bulbs between them and the paths that run around the house.
* * * * *
On the north side of a dwelling large-growing Ferns can be planted with
fine effect. These should be gathered in spring, and a good deal of
native soil should be brought with them from the woods. They will not
amount to much the first year, but they will afford you a great deal of
pleasure thereafter. Use in front of them such shade-loving plants as
Lily of the Valley and Myosotis.
* * * * *
Nowadays "tropical effects" are greatly admired. We have but few plants
that adapt themselves to this phase of gardening. Canna, Caladium,
Ricinus, Coleus, "Golden Feather" Pyrethrum and the gray Centaurea cover
pretty nearly the entire list. But by varying the combinations that can
be made with them the amateur can produce many new and pleasing effects,
thus avoiding the monotony which results from simply copying the beds
that we see year after year in the public parks, from whose likeness to
each other we get the impression that no other combination can be made.
Study out new arrangements for yourself. Plant them, group them, use
them as backgrounds for flowering plants, mass them in open spaces in
the border. Do not get the idea that they must always be used by
themselves. Cannas, because of the great variety of color in their
foliage, can be made attractive when used alone, but the others depend
upon combination with other plants for the contrast which brings out and
emphasizes their attractive features.
* * * * *
Speaking of new arrangements reminds me to say that the amateur gardener
ought always to plan for original effects if he or she would get out of
gardening all the pleasure there is in it. It may seem almost necessary
for the _beginner_ to copy the ideas of others in the arrangement of the
garden, to a considerable extent, but he should not get into the slavish
habit of doing so. Hazlitt says: "Originality implies independence of
opinion. It consists in seeing for one's self." That's it, exactly.
Study your plants. Find out their possibilities. And then plan
arrangements of your own for next season. Have an opinion of your own,
and be independent enough to attempt its carrying out. Don't be afraid
of yourself. Originate! Originate! Originate!
* * * * *
When you invest your money in a fine plant you do it for the pleasure of
yourself and family. When a neighbor comes along and admires it, and
asks you to divide it with her, don't let yourself be frightened into
doing so from regard of what she may say or think if you refuse. Tell
her where she can get a plant like it, but don't spoil your own plant
for anybody.
I am well aware that advice of this kind may seem selfish, but it is
not. There's no good reason why my neighbor should not get his plants in
the same way I got mine. I buy with the idea of beautifying my home with
them, and this I cannot do so long as I yield to everybody's request for
a slip or a root.
I have in mind a woman who, some years ago, invested in a rare variety
of Peony. When her plant came into bloom her friends admired it so much
that they all declared they must have a "toe" of it. The poor woman
hated terribly to disturb her plant, for she was quite sure what the
result would be, having had considerable experience with Peonies, but
she lacked the courage to say no, and the consequence was that she gave
a root to the first applicant, and that made it impossible for her to
refuse the second one and those who came after, and from that time to
this she has kept giving away "toes," and her plant is a poor little
thing to-day, not much larger than when it was first planted, while
plants grown from it are large and fine. She wouldn't mind it so much if
her friends were willing to divide _their_ plants with _their_ friends,
but they will not do this "for fear of spoiling them." Instead, they
send their friends to her. This is a fact, and I presume it can be
duplicated in almost every neighborhood.
* * * * *
The flower-loving person is, as a general thing, a very generous person,
and he takes delight in dividing his plants with others when he can do
so without injuring them. He is glad to do this because of his love for
flowers, and the pleasure it affords him to get others interested in
them and their culture. But there is such a thing as being overgenerous.
Our motto should be, "Home's garden first, my neighbor's garden
afterward."
It is generally thoughtlessness which prompts people to ask us to divide
our choice plants with them. If we were to be frank with them, and tell
them why we do not care to do this, they would readily understand the
situation, and, instead of blaming us for our refusal, they would blame
themselves for having been so thoughtlessly selfish as to have made the
request.
* * * * *
The question is often asked:
"Why can't we save our own flower-seeds? Aren't the plants we grow just
as healthy as those of the seedsmen we patronize year after year? Ought
not the seed from them to be just as good as that we buy?"
Just as good, no doubt, in one sense, and _not_ as good, in another. We
grow our plants for their flowers. The seedsmen grow theirs for their
seed, and in order to secure the very best article they give their
plants care and culture that ours are not likely to get. Their methods
are calculated to result in constant improvement. Ours tend in the other
direction. The person who grows plants year after year from home-grown
seed will almost invariably tell you that her plants "seem to be running
out."
The remedy for this state of things is to get fresh seed, each year,
from the men who understand how to grow it to perfection.
* * * * *
One ought always to keep his shrubs and choice plants labelled so that
no mistake can be made as to variety. We may be on speaking terms with
the whole Smith family, but we never feel really acquainted with them
until we know which is John, or Susan, or William. It ought to be so in
our friendship with our plants. Who that loves Roses would be content to
speak of La France, and Madame Plantier, and Captain Christy simply as
Roses? We must be on such intimate terms with them that each one has a
personality of its own for us. _Then_ we know them, and not _till_ then.
* * * * *
The best label to make use of is a zinc one, because it is almost
everlasting, while a wooden one is short lived, and whatever is written
on it soon becomes indistinct.
* * * * *
In attaching any label to a plant, be careful not to twist the wire with
which you attach it so tightly that it will cut into the branch. As the
branch grows the wire will shut off the circulation of the plant's
life-blood through that branch, and the result will be disastrous to
that portion of the plant.
* * * * *
Different varieties of perennials ought to be kept track of quite as
much as in the case of shrubs. As the old stalks die away and are cut
off each season, there is no part of the plant to which a label can be
attached with any permanence. There are iron sockets on the market into
which the piece of wood bearing the name of the variety can be inserted.
An all-wool label would speedily decay in contact with the soil.
* * * * *
Sometimes we get very amusing letters from parties "in search of
information." Not long ago a woman sent me a leaf from her Boston Fern,
calling my attention to the "bugs" on the lower side of it, and asking
how she could get rid of them. How did I suppose they contrived to
arrange themselves with such regularity? A little careful investigation
would have shown her that the rows of "bugs" were seed-spores. If
anything about your plants puzzles you, use your eyes and your
intelligence, and endeavor to find out the "whys and wherefores" for
yourself. You will enjoy doing this when you once get into the habit of
it. Information that comes to us through our own efforts is always
appreciated much more than that which comes to us second-hand. Make a
practice of personal investigation in order to get at a solution of the
problems that will constantly confront you in gardening operations.
* * * * *
In answer to another correspondent who asked me to recommend some
thoroughly reliable fertilizer, I advised "old cow-manure." Back came a
letter, saying I had neglected to state _how old_ the cow ought to be!
* * * * *
But the funny things are not all said by our correspondents. I lately
came across an article credited to a leading English gardening magazine
in which the statement was made that a certain kind of weed closely
resembling the Onion often located itself in the Onion-bed in order to
escape the vigilance of the weed-puller, its instinct telling it that
its resemblance to the Onion would deceive the gardener! Is anyone
foolish enough to believe that the weed knew just where to locate
itself, and had the ability to put itself there? One can but laugh at
such "scientific statements," and yet it seems too bad to have people
humbugged so.
* * * * *
A woman writes: "I don't care very much about plants. I never did. But
almost everybody grows them, nowadays, and I'd like to have a few for my
parlor, so as to be in style. You know the old saying that 'one might as
well be out of the world as out of fashion.' I wish you'd tell me what
to get, and how to take care of it. I want something that will just
about take care of itself. I don't want anything I'll have to bother
with."
My advice to this correspondent was, "Don't try to grow plants."
The fact is, the person who doesn't grow them _out of love for them_
will never succeed with them, therefore it would be well for such
persons not to attempt their culture. This for the plant's sake, as well
as their own. Plants call for something. Plants ask for something more
than a regular supply of food and water. They must have that
sympathy,--that friendship--which enables one to understand them and
their needs, and treat them accordingly. This knowledge will come
through intuition and from keen, intelligent observation, such as only a
real plant-lover will be likely to give. Those who grow plants--or
_attempt_ to grow them--simply because their neighbors do so will never
bring to their cultivation that careful, conscientious attention which
alone can result in success. The idea of growing a flower because "it is
the fashion to do so!"
* * * * *
It may seem to some who read what I have said above that I do not
encourage the cultivation of flowers by the masses. That's a wrong
conclusion to jump at. I would like to have everybody the owner of a
flower-garden. Those who have never attempted the culture of flowers are
very likely to develop a love for them of whose existence, of the
possibility of which, they had never dreamed. A dormant feeling is
kindled into activity by our contact with them. But these persons must
begin from a better motive than a desire to have them simply because it
is "the style." The desire to succeed with them _because you like them_
will insure success. Those who would have flowers because _it is the
fashion_ to have them may experience a sort of _satisfaction_ in the
possession of them, but this is a feeling utterly unlike the pleasure
known to those who grow flowers _because they love them_.
* * * * *
I am not a believer in the "knack" of flower-growing in the sense that
some are born with a special ability in that line, or, as some would
say, with a "_gift_" that way. We often hear it said, "Flowers will grow
for her if she just _looks_ at them." This is a wrong conclusion to
arrive at in the cases of those who are successful with them. They do
something more than simply "look" at their plants. They take intelligent
care of them. Some may acquire this ability easier and sooner than
others, but it is a "knack" that anyone may attain to who is willing to
keep his eyes open, and reason from cause to effect. Don't get the idea
that success at plant-growing comes without observation, thought, and
work. All the "knack" you need to have is a liking for flowers, and a
desire to understand how you can best meet their special requirements.
In other words, the _will_ to succeed will find out the _way_ to that
result.
* * * * *
Just now, while I am at work on the last pages of this book, comes an
inquiry, which I answer here because the subject of it is one of general
interest: "Every spring our Crimson Rambler Roses are infested with
thousands of green plant-lice. The new shoots will be literally covered
with them. And in fall the stalks of our Rudbeckia are as thickly
covered with a _red_ aphis, which makes it impossible for us to use it
for cut-flower work. Is there a remedy for these troubles?"
Yes. Nicoticide will rid the plants of their enemies if applied
thoroughly, and persistently. One application may not accomplish the
desired result, because of failure to reach all portions of the plant
with it, but a second or a third application will do the work.
* * * * *
By way of conclusion I want to urge women with "nerves" to take the
gardening treatment. Many housewives are martyrs to a prison-life. They
are shut up in the house from year's end to year's end, away from
pleasant sights, sounds, fresh air, and sunshine. If we can get such a
woman into the garden for a half-hour each day, throughout the summer,
we can make a new woman of her. Work among flowers, where the air is
pure and sweet, and sunshine is a tonic, and companionship is cheerful,
will lift her out of her work and worry, and body and mind will grow
stronger, and new life, new health, new energy will come to her, and the
cares and vexations that made life a burden, because of the nervous
strain resulting from them, will "take wings and fly away." Garden-work
is the best possible kind of medicine for overtaxed nerves. It makes
worn-out women over into healthy, happy women. "I thank God, every day,
for my garden," one of these women wrote me, not long ago. "It has given
me back my health. It has made me feel that life _is_ worth living,
after all. I believe that I shall get so that I live in my garden most
of the time. By that I mean that I shall be thinking about it and
enjoying it, either in recollection or anticipation, when it is
impossible for me to be actually in it. My mind will be there in winter,
and I will be there in summer. Why--do you know, I did a good deal more
housework last year than ever before, and I did it in order to find time
to work among my flowers. Work in the garden made housework easier.
Thank God for flowers, I say!"
Yes--God be thanked for flowers!
* * * * *
+-------------------------------------------------------------+
| _Gardening Books |
| By Eben E. Rexford_ |
| |
| The Home Garden |
| |
| A practical book for the use of those who own |
| a small garden in which they would like to grow |
| vegetables and small fruits. |
| |
| _Eight full-page illustrations. 12mo. 198 pages, |
| cloth, ornamental, $1.25 net._ |
| |
| Four Seasons in the Garden |
| |
| This book treats of all phases of the subject, |
| from the simple bed or two along the fence in a |
| city back yard, to the most pretentious garden of |
| the suburban or country dweller. |
| |
| _Twenty-six illustrations in tint, colored frontispiece, |
| decorated title page and lining papers. |
| Crown 8vo. Cloth, $1.50 net._ |
| |
| Indoor Gardening |
| |
| The information that is given in this book |
| was gained by the writer through personal work |
| among flowers, and the methods described have |
| all been successfully tried by him. |
| |
| _Colored frontispiece and 32 illustrations. Decorated |
| title page and lining papers. Crown 8vo. |
| Ornamental cloth, $1.50 net._ |
| |
| Amateur Gardencraft |
| |
| A book for the home-maker and garden lover. |
| |
| _Colored frontispiece, 33 illustrations in tint, decorated|
| title page and lining papers. Crown |
| 8vo. Ornamental cloth, $1.50 net._ |
| |
| _J. B. Lippincott Company_ |
| |
| _Publishers_ _Philadelphia_ |
| |
+-------------------------------------------------------------+