CHAPTER XX.

GENERAL MANAGEMENT OF THE GARDEN.

_The Soil Best Adapted to its Growth._

The most desirable soil for flowers, particularly for Annuals,

Perennials, etc., is a mellow loam, that will not bake down and crack

open under the influence of hard showers and hot suns. If you do not

possess a good soil, why, of course, you must do the best you can, and

you can improve a stiff, clayey soil by adding sand or ashes and manure.

A flower garden must have good drainage; if water settles upon its

surface, and freezes and thaws during the winter, you may be sure

that your plants will not survive. There is no use in trying to grow

flowers in poor soil; but every one can make a small compost heap, in

an out-of-the-way corner, and give it all the soap suds on washing days

that are not needed on the borders. When the leaves fall, secure all

you can; hire a small boy to gather them for you, and put them on the

pile; they are said to be the very poetry of manure--certainly, they

contain the best elements of flower food. Add to this heap the weeds

that are collected, but don’t have any seed-pods among them; throw upon

it all the slops from the house, and, by the next year, you will have

good plant food. It must be turned over several times so as to expose

it to the action of the air. A load of grass sods from the meadow is

the best foundation for such a “bank.” To use this season, procure

a large barrel, and fill it up with as good soil as your garden can

boast, then turn into it, every morning, the slops from the chambers.

No disagreeable odor will arise from it, but a rich soil will be made.

Use it carefully, putting a few tablespoonsful about the roots of the

plants, and digging them in, so as not to touch the stems. Dig this

about the roots of your Geraniums, Roses, Verbenas, Pansies, etc., not

letting it come in direct contact with the tender roots, and you need

not complain of the poverty of the soil; while the rich blooms of your

flowers will fully repay the extra labor. The barrel can be hid away

under vines; and, as the earth is used up, add more to it. The Japanese

and Chinese gardeners can teach us a lesson in these matters. Nothing

is wasted in their country, and their flower gardens are wonderfully

beautiful and gorgeous.

“Eternal vigilance,” Gen. Jackson’s pet phrase, applies particularly

to gardening. One cannot grow fine flowers without some labor; and you

will soon learn that constant efforts are needed to make the flowers

grow into fine-shaped plants, filled with blossoms. You cannot garden

one week, and let it alone the next; but you must watch it, and water

it, and weed it, daily, if you would be successful. It requires as much

care to cultivate a handsome garden, as to grow cabbages, melons and

tomatoes, and no more.

An open exposure is desirable, where the sun will have free access to

the plants; there are some flowers like Fuchsias, Primroses, Daisies,

Pansies, etc., which bloom far better in beds that are sheltered from

the noonday sun; and their tastes should be gratified. Yet nearly all

plants love the sun, and grow better, if directly under its influence.

_Selection and Sowing of Seeds._

This is a matter of importance to amateur gardeners, who usually desire

the handsomest kinds that can be grown. It takes no more time and care

to grow a small, poor, single flower than a rich, double variety; and

the cost is but little more. Always purchase your seeds of reliable,

well-known seedsmen, and do not content yourself with those offered by

small traders.

Seed raisers who make it a business, raise only the finest kinds; the

poorer sorts do not pay. Hundreds of dollars worth of good seeds are

annually wasted because the growers do not know how to plant them. They

require a very finely pulverized soil; and, if the coarser particles

are sifted out, the seeds will germinate more surely. In the Chapter on

ANNUALS, minute directions are given for sowing seeds. Since writing

it, I have sowed sixty, or more, different varieties, and hardly one

has failed to germinate. Every seed of some varieties has come “up.”

There is no difficulty in their culture, if you will only take a little

pains in planting them, and shield them from the sun, with newspapers,

for two or three days.

_Weeding._

This is usually considered a terror; but if you will use a small rake

and hoe, as heretofore advised, _every morning_, for a few minutes, you

will keep the upperhand of them. The first leaves of weeds or plants

are their sole nourishment; cut them off and the young weeds must die,

however tenacious of life they may be.

_Watering._

Leaves absorb and give out moisture, and inhale and exhale air; they

are the lungs of every plant, and if they are destroyed the whole plant

suffers. The pores in the leaves of all plants, by which they transmit

air and moisture, are exceedingly small, and liable to be filled up

if exposed to smoke and dust; therefore, if there are not plentiful

showers, you must water them freely every evening. It is of but little

use to give water after the sun has risen. In this hot, dry climate the

watering pot is a necessity, and tubs of water should be drawn from

hydrant or pump every morning, and allowed to set in the sun, to take

off the chill; then, after seven o’clock P. M., apply it.

_Planting Out, Pruning, etc._

The branches and leaves of plants rarely touch one another while

growing, and you should learn from them not to crowd your plants in bed

or border; for air and light are quite as needful as water and good

soil.

When shrubs produce an abundance of foliage and no flowers, either

remove them to a purer soil, or cut through some of the principal

roots. Root-shortening is often resorted to, by florists, to force

plants to bloom.

By checking the growth of plants, you throw strength into the flowers.

All shrubs produce their flowers on the terminal points of the

branches; after the bloom is past, if these are pinched off, you will

have two or three branches for one in the succeeding year.

All plants are in their most vigorous growth while in flower, and

should never be transplanted at that time, for it will check their

growth, if it does not kill them. This is the time for taking cuttings,

as they are then most ready to send forth roots. The throwing off of

its leaves by a newly planted cutting, is a sign that it has begun

to grow, while if the leaves wither on the stem, it shows that the

cutting had not strength enough to send forth shoots.

You can train a plant into any shape you please, by pinching off the

shoots, for the plant will avenge itself by sending forth two or three

more, in lieu of the one you pinched in. A plant pinched in June will

flower in July; if pinched in July, it will flower in August. All buds

proceed from the tips, and by pinching in Carnations, Bouvardias,

Fuchsias, etc., their flowers will be put back and they need not be

allowed to bloom until autumn. This method of training will produce

thick, bushy plants, filled with many small shoots, which, when left

unmolested, will produce hundreds of buds and flowers.

To procure a succession of Roses, prune down to three eyes on all the

branches of some bushes, as soon as the buds begin to expand; defer

the same operation with others, until the leaves are expanding; on the

former bushes the three buds will bear early flowers; in the latter,

they will not begin to expand until the others are in full foliage, and

will bloom later in the season.

Dry, east winds are very injurious to plant life, by absorbing the

moisture from the leaves of the plants more quickly than they are

able to give it out; they will often wither the plants as badly as a

frost, and should be guarded against in the same way. Cover all your

plants with papers, boxes, etc., if they are so unfortunate as to be

exposed to it. I have seen an east wind nearly ruin a flourishing bed

of Verbenas and Heliotropes in the month of May. If your grass-plat

becomes overrun with moss, manure the surface, and the grass will soon

catch in and expel the intruder.

Plants, when in bloom, have all their juices in the most perfect state;

therefore cut all aromatic and medicinal herbs just as they begin to

send up flowering stalks.

Profuse flowering exhausts the strength of plants; therefore remove

all seed pods that are not especially desired for seed. Do this to all

perennials, and you will have much finer blossoms the ensuing season.

_Saving of Seeds._

Though the gathering of seeds reminds us that the beauty of the flower

is gone, it is a pleasing occupation, because it promises us pleasure

for another year. As an usual thing it is better to depend upon the

seedsmen for your supply, but if you have very fine flowers, choose

two or three plants and pick off all the side buds, sending the

whole strength of the plant into two or three blossoms at the most;

frequently one is quite enough. Tie up the plants with colored yarn, so

that no one will pick them; pull up all the single flowers that might

mix with them, and you may be quite sure of saving good seed. Gather

them on a dry day, when the seeds are thoroughly dry. Seeds preserved

in the seed vessel are more clumsy to pack away than those which are

cleaned, but they are said to keep fresher. When ready to sow them,

clean them by passing them through sieves, having holes large enough to

let the dust escape and retain the seeds. Small sieves can be made of a

thin bit of pasteboard cut in a circular form, and the edges turned up,

then pierce the bottom of it with holes made with a pin or a darning

needle. Make several different sized sieves, and rub the seeds through

the different ones.

A lady can make a small cabinet of pasteboard, with as many drawers

in it as there are letters of the alphabet, and as she ties up the

packets, each can be put into its corresponding drawer; or a paper bag

with each letter of the alphabet marked upon it, can hold the seeds

until desired for planting.

_Preparing Pots._

If new pots are used for any kind of seeds or plants, they should be

soaked in water for a few hours, as they will otherwise suck away the

moisture from the earth, and nothing is worse than to water seeds too

often, or let them become dried up. All empty pots should be washed and

cleaned before using again.

_Taking up and Preserving Flowers in Winter._

One is often in a great quandary to know what to do with large bushes

of Geraniums, Roses, Feverfews, Heliotropes, etc., that have grown so

finely all summer, and now the frost threatens to lay them low forever.

All the plants that have a woody nature, can be preserved in a dry,

cool, perfectly dark cellar. Last autumn, I had a splendid bed of

Zonale Geraniums--every color and hue, and some fifteen plants. What

should I do with them? I could not bear to lose them forever! So I took

a large box, and filled it with a light soil, and planted the roots in

it, first cutting off all the tender branches, and leaving none over

twelve or fifteen inches long; on these the leaves were left, but every

blossom was cut away. The box was placed in a cold, damp, perfectly

dark cellar, where potatoes never freeze; no water was given it the

whole winter, and the first of May it was brought up with every root

alive. The leaves had all fallen, and the stems were dead down three

or more inches. I cut them back six inches, and bright leaves are now

starting from every branch.

I live in the coldest climate in New England, where one has to fight

for flowers or fruits. “Nine months of winter, and three months of

spring,” describes the rigorous climate, and all Roses excepting the

tender _Teas_, will live under sods. They are cut from the meadows or

road sides early in November; then the bushes are carefully laid down;

and the sods are placed over them grass side up. Last winter there was

but little snow, but my roses kept finely. A large shovelful of manure

was thrown around the roots before the branches were laid down. As the

sods were being placed over the Roses, I laid a small piece over two

Feverfews that grew near, and they are both alive. They will live out

in milder climates, but are rarely known to do so in this frigid zone,

under Mt. Washington’s shadow. Fuchsias and Heliotropes can be kept in

boxes in the same manner. Also Oleanders, Sweet Verbenas, and nearly

all flowers but Verbenas; they require light, heat and moisture to live.

Zonale Geraniums can be wintered in most cellars, if the earth is

shaken from the roots, and they are tied up by them to the beams of

the cellar. All blossoms should be cut off, or the sap that is in

the branches will cause them to bloom, and thus rob the roots of the

strength they need to live on through the winter. A damp cellar will

cause them to decay. Scarlet Salvias can be kept in the same way.

Roses and Geraniums, etc., can be buried in trenches. Dig it two and

a-half feet in depth, and where the water will not settle; lay in the

plants, first throwing in a few shovelsful of dried leaves, or boards

can be laid over the plants; fill in with sandy loam, and finish off

with a ridge that will carry off the water. If the trench is lined with

straw before the plants are laid in, they are less liable to decay.

It is no use trying to make “window gardens” out of plants that have

flowered all summer. They must have a season of rest, and they are only

desirable for another summer after they have slept away the winter in

the cool, dark cellar.

_Sleep of Flowers._

It is said that nearly all flowers sleep at night. The Marigold goes

to sleep with the sun, and awakes at its bidding. The Dandelion shuts

tightly its bright blossoms before nine in the evening, and does

not fully open them until at six in the morning. The Daisy closes

its flowers in the evening, and opens its “day’s eye” to meet the

earliest beams of the rising sun. The Goat’s Beard wakes at three in

the morning, and goes to sleep by five or six in the afternoon. The

Crocus, Tulip and many others sleep peacefully at night. The Ivy-leaved

Lettuce awakes at eight in the morn, and closes forever by four in the

afternoon. The Night Blooming Cereus turns night into day; it expands

its magnificent fragrant chalices in the twilight, is fully blown at

midnight, and sleeps never to awake again at the dawn of the morning.

In a Clover field, not a leaf opens until touched by the sun’s rays. An

English florist has closely watched the habits of the flowers, and thus

reports concerning them.

_Insects._

Insects abound in every month of the year, but they are especially

annoying in Summer time. With the first warm days they appear in

numbers, and cover the Roses, etc. Rain causes them to disappear, but

a dry, east wind increases them. A small painter’s brush, dipped in

quassia or aloes water, will brush them off and destroy them.

The caterpillars of many moths and butterflies are destructive in the

garden, and one death in the Spring will save much warfare; so if you

see one resting on a stem or leaf, with folded wings, it is probably

a female and should be killed directly. If one is found dead on a

plant, she has doubtless laid her eggs, and you must search for them

underneath the leaves and burn them. A garden syringe or engine is

the best weapon with which to wage warfare against both aphides and

caterpillars. You must hold the pipe close to the plant, and pump hard,

so as to bring a considerable stream upon it, and it will soon be free

from them. Every time you use it, you should rake the earth away from

under the plants, and trample upon the insects you have washed off.

Earwigs are very destructive insects. Their favorite food is the petals

of roses, pinks, fuchsias, dahlias, etc. They eat at night, and in

the daytime hide away in the dark vegetation. They can be caught by

driving stakes into the ground and inverting a flower-pot directly over

them, leaving just room for them to crawl under, and then look for and

destroy them every morning.

Grubs on orchard trees and small fruits, will sometimes spoil the whole

harvest; but if a bonfire is made with dry sticks and weeds on the

windward side of the orchard, the smoke will blow among the trees and

destroy hundreds, while the flames will attract many moths. Make the

fire after nightfall.

Wasps destroy a quantity of fruit, and all that you can kill in the

spring will save a swarm in the autumn. But be careful about letting

them sting you, for the smart is severe. If stung, get out the blue-bag

from the laundry, and rub it well into the sting, or cover the spot

with soft soap, or liquid ammonia, to neutralize the acid of the

poison. Saleratus wet and rubbed on the wound will also mitigate the

pain.

Cherish the little black and red lady-bug, for it will destroy many

green lice, or aphides. They are often to be found on the currant

bushes, and I always catch them and give them a home among my roses and

geraniums.

Toads are among the best friends that we can cultivate, so be sure to

treat them with kindness. They may eat a few strawberries, but let them

have that privilege in return for the immense quantities of insects

they will also eat. If you can have none in your garden, it is well

to seek for them in your walks, and bring them home, handling them

carefully, for though they have no power to injure you, being perfectly

harmless, you can easily kill them. I have a portly couple of them who

live under my front door-step, and nightly come forth to feed upon my

enemies--the noxious insects--eating bugs, grubs, moths, millipedes,

and caterpillars.

Bees, of various kinds, are useful in spreading the pollen, so be sure

to bid them welcome to all the hidden sweets your flowers contain.

_Cultivate the Beautiful._

“Flowers seem intended for the solace of ordinary humanity. Children

love them; quiet, tender, contented, ordinary people love them as they

grow; luxurious and disorderly people rejoice in them gathered. They

are the cottager’s treasure, and, in the crowded town, mark, as with a

little broken fragment of rainbow, the windows of the workers, in whose

hearts rests the covenant of peace. To the child and the girl, to the

peasant and manufacturing operative, to the grisette and the nun, the

lover and the monk, they are precious always.” Thus writes Ruskin, the

prose poet of the century.

The cultivation of “The Beautiful” should be the desire of every

woman’s heart. Gœthe’s sentiment, “We should do our utmost to encourage

the Beautiful, for the useful encourages itself,” should be our

watchword. There are few women who do not take delight in flowers, and

the object of this little book is to encourage them to cultivate them

around and about their own homes, where their fragrance will delight

every one that passes by them.

They speak to us of love and joy; of hope and peace; of humility

and confidence; and also of bitter sorrow and grief--for they are

associated with those who have passed away, and whose loss has darkened

the horizon of our lives. They also teach us of the resurrection of

the dead, and the life immortal that fadeth not away. They adorn the

soldier’s grave; they circle the brow of loveliness; they crown the

festive hall; they are everywhere, and are closely mingled with both

joy and sorrow.

They are not a necessity to many of us; but they teach us to live

nearer to God. Truly Mrs. Howitt writes of them:

“Our outward life requires them not,

Then wherefore have they birth?

To minister delight to man,

To beautify the earth!

To comfort man--to whisper hope,

Where’er his faith is dim,

For whoso careth for the flowers,

Will much more care for Him!”

I truly pity those who cannot turn from the hurry of business with

all its corroding cares, from the pomp of wealth, and the gay devices

of fashion, and feast their senses and their souls upon the sight and

perfume of a flower!

Far better to teach our daughters to cultivate roses on the cheeks, and

in their gardens, to ornament their rooms with the fragrance and beauty

of roses and lilies, and all the gorgeous sisterhood of flowers, than

to make ruffles, and puffs, and plaits and endless puckers wherewith to

adorn themselves. Children can easily be taught to love flowers, and

the taste can never be used to deteriorate the character.

Linnæus, the renowned Swedish botanist, was the son of a poor country

clergyman, who had a small flower-garden, in which he cultivated all

the flowers which he could procure, and his means would permit.

From the earliest childhood he taught his son to love them, cultivate

them, and rejoice with intense delight in their rich and varied

colorings. In this way he created in him the tastes and desires which

made him the first botanist and naturalist of his age.

FINIS.

Transcriber's Notes:

Italics are shown thus: _sloping_.

Bold type is thus: =strong=.

Variations in spelling and hyphenation are retained.

Perceived typographical errors have been changed.

Every woman her own flower gardener · 第 20 / 20 章