dug in. Place stakes in the centre of bushes that you know from
experience will need them. Re-tie climbers that have broken away from
supports, but not too tightly; let some sprays swing and arch in their
own way.
_May._ As soon as the foliage begins to appear, spray with whale-oil
soap lotion mixed hot and let cool: strength--a bit the size of a walnut
to a gallon of water. Do this every two weeks until the rosebuds show
decided colour, then stop. This is to keep the rose Aphis at bay, the
little soft green fly that is as succulent as the sap upon which it
feeds.
If the spring is damp and mildew appears, dust with sulphur flower in a
small bellows.
_June._ The Rose Hopper or Thrip, an active little pale yellow,
transparent-winged insect that clings to the under side of the leaf,
will now come if the weather is dry; dislodged easily by shaking, it
immediately returns. _Remedy_, spraying leaves from underneath with
water and applying powdered helebore with a bellows.
If _Black Spot_, a rather recent nuisance, appears on the leaves, spray
with Bordeaux Mixture, bought of a horticultural dealer, directions
accompanying.
Meanwhile the leaf worm is sure to put in appearance. This is also
transparent and either brownish green, or yellow, seemingly according to
the leaves upon which it feeds. _Remedy_, if they won't yield to
helebore (and they seldom do unless very sickly), brush them off into a
cup. An old shaving brush is good for this purpose, as it is close set
but too soft to scrape the leaf.
_June 15._ When the roses are in bloom, stop all insecticides. There is
such a thing as the cure being worse than the disease, and a rose garden
redolent of whale-oil soap and phosphates and encrusted with helebore
and Bordeaux Mixture has a painful suggestion of a horticultural
hospital.
Now is the time for the Rose Chafer, a dull brownish beetle about half
an inch long, who times his coming up out of the ground to feast upon
the most fragrant and luscious roses. These hunt in couples and are
wholly obnoxious. Picking into a fruit jar with a little kerosene in
the bottom is the only way to kill them. In one day last season Evan
came to my rescue and filled a quart jar in two hours; they are so fat
and spunky they may be considered as the big game among garden bugs, and
their catching, if not carried to an extreme, in the light of sport.
_July._ See that all dead flowers are cut off and no petals allowed to
mould on the ground. Mulch with short grass during hot, dry weather, and
use liquid manure upon hybrid teas and teas every two weeks, immediately
after watering or a rain. Never, at any season, allow a rose to wither
on the bush!
_August._ The same, keeping on the watch for all previous insects but
the rose beetle; this will have left. Mulch hybrid perpetuals if a dry
season, and give liquid manure for the second blooming.
_September._ Stir the ground after heavy rains, and watch for tendencies
of mould.
_October._ The same.
_November._ Begin to draw the soil about roots soon after black frost,
and bank up before the ground freezes, but do not add straw, litter, or
manure in the trenches until the ground is actually frozen, which will
be from December first onward, except in the case of teas, which should
be covered gradually until the top is reached.
By this you will judge, Mary Penrose, that a rosary has its labours, as
well as pleasures, and that like all other joys it is accompanied by
difficulties. Yet you can grow good roses if you _will_, but the
difficulty is that most people _won't_. I think, by the way, that remark
belongs to Dean Hole of fragrant rose-garden memory, and of a truth he
has said all that is likely to be spoken or written about the rose on
the side of both knowledge and human fancy for many a day.
Modern roses of the hybrid-perpetual and hybrid-tea types may be bought
of several reliable dealers for twenty-five dollars per hundred, in two
conditions, either grown on their own roots or budded on Manette or
brier stock. Personally I prefer the first or natural condition, if the
constitution of the plant is sufficiently vigorous to warrant it. There
are, however, many indispensable varieties that do better for the
infusion of vigorous brier blood. A budded rose will show the junction
by a little knob where the bud was inserted; this must be planted at
least three inches below ground so that new shoots will be encouraged to
spring from _above_ the bud, as those below are merely wild, worthless
suckers, to be removed as soon as they appear.
[Illustration: A CONVENIENT ROSE BED.]
How can you tell wild suckers from the desired growth? At first by
following them back to the root until you have taken their measure, but
as soon as experience has enlightened you they will be as easily
recognized at sight as the mongrel dog by a connoisseur. Many admirable
varieties, like Jacqueminot, Anne de Diesbach, Alfred Colomb, Madame
Plantier, and all the climbers, do so well on their own roots that it is
foolish to take the risk of budded plants, the worse side of which is a
tendency to decay at the point of juncture. Tea roses, being of rapid
growth and flowering wholly upon new wood, are perfectly satisfactory
when rooted from cuttings.
Of many well-attested varieties of hybrid perpetuals, hybrid China, or
other so-called June roses, you may at the start safely select from the
following twenty.
_Pink, of various shades_
1. Anne de Diesbach. One of the most fragrant, hardy, and
altogether satisfactory of hybrid
perpetual roses. Forms a large bush,
covered with large deep carmine-pink
flowers. Should be grown on own root.
2. Paul Neyron. Rose pink, of large size, handsome
even when fully open. Fragrant and
hardy.
3. Cabbage, or Rose The Provence rose of history and old
of 100 Leaves. gardens, supposed to have been known
to Pliny. Rich pink, full, fragrant,
and hardy. Own roots.
4. Magna Charta. A fine fragrant pink rose of the
hybrid China type. Not seen as often
as it should be. Own roots.
5. Clio. A vigorous grower with flesh-coloured
and pink-shaded blossoms.
6. Oakmont. Exquisite deep rose, fragrant,
vigorous, and with a long blooming
season.
_White_
7. Marchioness of Free, full, and fragrant. Immense
Londonderry. cream-white flowers, carried on long
stems. Very beautiful.
8. Madame Plantier A medium-sized, pure white rose,
(Hybrid China). with creamy centre; flowers so
profusely as to appear to be in
clusters. Delicately fragrant, leaves
deep green and remarkably free from
blights. Perfectly hardy; forms so
large a bush in time that it should
be placed in the rose shrubbery
rather than amid smaller species.
9. Margaret Dickson. A splendid, finely formed, fragrant
white rose, with deep green foliage.
10. Coquette des Blanches. One of the very hardy white roses,
an occasional pink streak tinting the
outside petals. Cup-shaped and a
profuse bloomer.
11. Coquette des Alps. A very hardy bush, coming into bloom
rather later than the former and
lasting well. Satisfactory.
_Red and Crimson_
12. General Jacqueminot. Bright velvety crimson. The
established favourite of its
colour and class, though fashion has
in some measure pushed it aside for
newer varieties. May be grown to a
large shrub. Fragrant and hardy. Best
when in bud, as it opens rather flat.
13. Alfred Colomb. Bright crimson. Full, sweet. A
vigorous grower and entirely
satisfactory. If you can grow but one
red rose, take this.
14. Fisher Holmes. A seedling of Jacqueminot, but of
the darkest velvety crimson; fragrant,
and blooms very early.
15. Marshal P. Wilder. Also a seedling of Jacqueminot.
Vigorous and of well-set foliage.
Full, large flowers of a bright
cherry red. Very fragrant.
16. Marie Bauman. A crimson rose of delicious
fragrance and lovely shape. This does
best when budded on brier or Manette
stock, and needs petting and a diet of
liquid manure, but it will repay the
trouble.
17. Jules Margottin. A fine, old-fashioned, rich red
rose, fragrant, and while humble in
its demands, well repays liberal
feeding.
18. John Hopper. A splendid, early crimson rose,
fragrant and easily cared for.
19. Prince Camille de Rohan. The peer of dark red roses, not
large, but rich in fragrance and of
deep colour.
20. Ulrich Brunner. One of the best out-of-door roses,
hardy, carries its bright cerise
flowers well, which are of good shape
and substance; has few diseases.
_Moss Roses_
1. Blanch Moreau (Perpetual). A pure, rich white; the buds, which
are heavily mossed, borne in clusters.
2. White Bath. The most familiar white moss rose,
sometimes tinged with pink. Open
flowers are attractive as well as
buds.
3. Crested Moss. Rich pink, deeply mossed, each bud
having a fringed crest; fragrant and
full.
4. Gracilis. An exquisite moss rose of fairylike
construction, the deep pink buds being
wrapped and fringed with moss.
5. Common Moss. A hardy pink variety, good only in
the bud.
The moss roses as a whole only bloom satisfactorily in June.
_Climbers_
1.
1. English Sweetbrier. Single pink flowers of the wild-rose
type. Foliage of delicious fragrance,
perfuming the garden after rain the
season through.
_Penzance Hybrid Sweetbriers,
Having Fragrant Foliage and Flowers
of Many Beautiful Colours_
2. Amy Robsart. Pink.
3. Anne of Geierstein. Crimson.
4. Minna. White.
5. Rose Bradwardine. Deep rose.
2.
1. Climbing Jules Margottin. Rosy carmine, very fragrant
and full, satisfactory for the
pergola, but more so for a pillar,
where in winter it can be protected
from wind by branches or straw.
2. Baltimore Belle. The old-fashioned blush rose, with
clean leaves and solid flowers of good
shape. Blooms after other varieties are
over. Trustworthy and satisfactory,
though not fragrant in flower or leaf.
3. Gem of the Prairie. Red flowers of large size, but
rather flat when open. A seedling from
Queen of the Prairie, and though not
as free as its parent, it has the
desirable quality of fragrance.
4. Climbing Belle Siebrecht Fragrant, vigorous, and of
(Hybrid Tea). the same deep pink as the standard
variety. Grow on pillars.
5. Gloire de Dijon. Colour an indescribable blending of
rose, buff, and yellow, deliciously
fragrant, double to the heart of
crumpled, crêpelike petals. A tea rose
and, as an outdoor climber, tender
north of Washington, yet it can be
grown on a pillar by covering as
described on page 126.
_Hybrid Tea Roses_
1. La France. The fragrant silver-pink rose, with
full, heavy flowers,--the combination
of all a rose should be. In the open
garden the sun changes its delicate
colour quickly. Should be gathered in
the bud at evening or, better yet,
early morning. Very hardy if properly
covered, and grows to a good-sized
bush.
2. Kaiserin Augusta White, with a lemon tint in the
Victoria. folds; the fragrance is peculiar to
itself, faintly suggesting the
Gardenia.
3. Gruss an Teplitz. One of the newer crimson roses,
vigorous, with well-cupped flowers.
Good for decorative value in the
garden, but not a rose of sentiment.
4. Killarney. One of the newer roses that has made
good. Beautiful pointed buds of
shell-pink, full and at the same time
delicate. The foliage is very
handsome. If well fed, will amply
repay labour.
5. Souvenir de Malmaison. A Bourbon rose that should be
treated like a hybrid tea. Shell-pink,
fragrant flowers, that have much the
same way of opening as Gloire de
Dijon. A constant bloomer.
6. Clothilde Soupert. A polyantha or cluster rose of
vigorous growth and glistening
foliage, quite as hardy as the hybrid
tea. It is of dwarf growth and
suitable for edging beds of larger
roses. The shell-pink flowers are of
good form and very double; as they
cluster very thickly on the ends of
the stems, the buds should be thinned
out, as they have an aggravating
tendency to mildew before opening.
7. Souvenir de President A charming rose with shadows of all
Carnot. the flesh tints, from white through
blush to rose; sturdy and free.
8. Caroline Testout. Very large, round flowers, of a
delicate shell-pink, flushed with
salmon; sturdy.
_Teas_
1. Bon Silene. The old favourite, unsurpassed for
fragrance as a button-hole flower, or
table decoration when blended with
ferns or fragrant foliage plants.
Colour "Bon Silene," tints of shaded
pink and carmine, all its own.
2. Papa Gontier. A rose as vigorous as the hybrid
teas, and one that may be easily
wintered. Pointed buds of deep rose
shading to crimson and as fragrant as
Bon Silene, of which it is a hybrid.
Flowers should be gathered in the bud.
3. Safrano. A true "tea" rose of characteristic
shades of buff and yellow, with the
tea fragrance in all its perfection.
Best in the bud. Vigorous and a fit
companion for Papa Gontier and Bon
Silene.
4. Perle des Jardins. An exquisite, fragrant double rose
of light clear yellow, suggesting the
Marechal Niel in form, but of paler
colour. Difficult to winter out of
doors, but worth the trouble of
lifting to cold pit or light cellar,
or the expense of renewing annually.
One of the lovable roses.
5. Bride. The clear white rose, sometimes with
lemon shadings used for forcing; clean,
handsome foliage and good fragrance.
Very satisfactory in my garden when
old plants are used, as described.
6. Bridesmaid. The pink companion of the above with
similar attributes.
7. Etoille de Lyon. A vigorous, deep yellow rose, full
and sweet. Almost as hardy as a hybrid
tea and very satisfactory.
8. Souvenir d'un Ami. A deliciously fragrant light pink
rose, with salmon shadings. Very
satisfactory and as hardy as some of
the hybrid teas.
_Miscellaneous Roses for the Shrubbery_
1. Harrison's Yellow. An Austrian brier rose with clear
yellow semi-double flowers. Early and
very hardy. Should be grown on its own
roots, as it will then spread into a
thicket and make the rosary a mass of
shimmering gold in early June.
_Damask Roses_
Should be grown on own root, when
they will form shrubs five feet high.
2. Madame Hardy. Pure white. Very fragrant,
well-cupped flower, Time tried and
sturdy.
3. Rosa Damascena Rose colour.
Triginitipela.
_Rugosa_
The tribe of Japanese origin,
conspicuous as bushes of fine foliage
and handsome shape, as well as for the
large single blossoms that are
followed by seed vessels of brilliant
scarlet hues.
4. Agnes Emily Carman. Flowers in clusters, "Jacqueminot"
red, with long-fringed golden stamens.
Continuous bloomer. Hardy and perfect.
5. Rugosa alba. Pure white, highly scented.
6. Rugosa rubra. Single crimson flowers of great
beauty.
7. Chedane Guinoisseau. Flowers, satin pink and very large.
Blooms all the summer.
Now, Mary Penrose, having made up your mind to have a rosary, cause
garden line and shovel to be set in that side lawn of yours without
hesitation. Do not wait until autumn, because you cannot plant the hardy
roses until then and do not wish to contemplate bare ground. This sight
is frequently wholesome and provocative of good horticultural digestion.
You need only begin with one-half of Evan's plan, letting the pergola
enclose the walk back of the house, and later on you can add the other
wing.
If the pergola itself is built during the summer, you can sit under it,
and by going over your list and colour scheme locate each rose finally
before its arrival. By the way, until the climbers are well started you
may safely alternate them with vines of the white panicled clematis,
that will be in bloom in August and can be easily kept from clutching
its rose neighbours!
By and by, when you have planted your roses, tucked them in their winter
covers, and can sit down with a calm mind, I will lend you three
precious rose books of mine. These are Dean Hole's _Book about Roses_,
for both the wit and wisdom o't; _The Amateur Gardener's Rose Book_,
rescued from the German by John Weathers, F.R.H.S., for its common
sense, well-arranged list of roses, and beautiful coloured plates, and
H.B. Ellwanger's little treatise on _The Rose_, a competent chronology
of the flower queen up to 1901, written concisely and from the American
standpoint. If I should send them now, you would be so bewildered by the
enumeration of varieties, many unsuited to this climate, intoxicated by
the descriptions of Rose-garden possibilities, and carried away by the
literary and horticultural enthusiasm of the one-time master of the
Deanery Garden, Rochester, that, like the child turned loose in the toy
shop, you would lose the power of choosing.
Lavinia Cortright lost nearly a year in beginning her rosary, owing to a
similar condition of mind, and Evan and I long ago decided that when we
read we cannot work, and _vice versa_, so when the Garden of Outdoors is
abed and asleep each year, we enter the Garden of Books with fresh
delight.
Have you a man with quick wit and a straight eye to be the spade hand
during the Garden Vacation? If not, make haste to find him, for, as you
have had Barney for five years, he is probably too set in his ways to
work at innovations cheerfully!
VIII
A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE
(Mary Penrose to Barbara Campbell)
_June 21._ The rosary has been duly surveyed, staked according to the
plan, and the border lines fixed with the garden line dipped in
whitewash, so that if we only plant a bed at a time, our ambition will
always be before us. But as yet no man cometh to dig. This process is of
greater import than it may seem, because with the vigorous
three-year-old sod thus obtained do we purpose to turf the edges of the
beds for hardy and summer flowers that border the squares of the
vegetable garden. These strips now crumble earth into the walks, and the
slightest footfall is followed by a landslide. We had intended to use
narrow boards for edging, but Bart objects, like the old retainer in
Kipling's story of _An Habitation Enforced_, on the ground that they
will deteriorate from the beginning and have to be renewed every few
years, whereas the turf will improve, even if it is more trouble to care
for.
At present the necessity of permanence is one of the things that is
impressing us both, for after us--the Infant! Until a year ago I had a
positive dread of being so firmly fixed anywhere that to spread wings
and fly here and there would be difficult, but now it seems the most
delightful thing to be rooted like the old apple tree on the side hill,
the last of the old orchard, that has leaned against the upland winds so
many years that it is well-nigh bent double, yet the root anchors hold
and it is still a thing of beauty, like rosy-cheeked old folk with snowy
hair. I do not think that I ever realized this in its fulness until I
left the house and came out, though but a short way, to live with and in
it all.
You were right in thinking that Barney would not encourage
innovations,--he does not! He says that turf lifted in summer always
lies uneasy and breeds worms.
This seems to be an age for the defiance of horticultural tradition, for
we are finding out every day that you can "lift" almost anything of
herbaceous growth at any time and make it live, if you are willing to
take pains enough, though of course transplanting is done with less
trouble and risk at the prescribed seasons.
The man-with-the-shovel question is quite a serious one hereabouts at
present, for the Water Company has engaged all the rough-and-ready
labourers for a long season and that has raised both the prices and
the noses of the wandering accommodators in the air. Something will
probably turn up. Now we are transplanting hardy ferns; for though the
tender tops break, there is yet plenty of time for a second growth and
rooting before winter.
[Illustration: THE LAST OF THE OLD ORCHARD.
Copyright, 1903, H. Hendrickson.]
Meanwhile there is a leisurely old carpenter who recently turned up as
heir of the Opal Farm, Amos Opie by name, who is thinking of living
there, and has signified his willingness to undertake the pergola by
hour's work, "if he is not hustled," as soon as the posts arrive.
The past ten days have been full of marvellous discoveries for the
"peculiar Penroses," as Maria Maxwell heard us called down at the Golf
Club, where she represented me at the mid-June tea, which I had wholly
forgotten that I had promised to manage when I sent out those P.P.C.
cards and stopped the clocks!
It seems that the first impression was that financial disaster had
overtaken us, when instead of vanishing in a touring car preceded by
tooting and followed by a cloud of oil-soaked steam, we took to our own
woods, followed by Barney with our effects in a wheelbarrow. It is a
very curious fact--this attributing of every action a bit out of the
common to the stress of pocket hunger. It certainly proves that
advanced as we are supposed to be to-day as links in the evolutionary
chain, we have partially relapsed and certainly show strong evidences of
sheep ancestry.
Haven't you noticed, Mrs. Evan, how seldom people are content to accept
one's individual tastes or desire to do a thing without a good and
sufficient reason therefor? It seems incomprehensible to them that any
one should wish to do differently from his neighbour unless from
financial incapacity; the frequency with which one is suspected of being
in this condition strongly points to the likelihood that the critics
themselves chronically live beyond their means and in constant danger of
collapse.
If this was thought of us a few weeks ago, it seems to have been
sidetracked by Maria Maxwell's contribution to, and management of, the
golf tea. She is said not only to have compounded viands that are
ordinarily sold in exchange for many dollars by New York confectioners,
but she certainly made more than a presentable appearance as "matron" of
the receiving committee of young girls. Certainly Maria with a music
roll, a plain dark suit, every hair tethered fast, and common-sense
shoes, plodding about her vocation in snow and mud, and Maria "let
loose," as Bart calls it, are a decided contrast. Except that she has
not parted with her sunny common-sense, she is quite a new person. Of
course I could not have objected to it, but I was afraid that she might
take it into her head to instruct the Infant in vocal music after the
manner of the locustlike sounds that you hear coming over the lowered
tops of school windows as soon as the weather grows warm, or else take
to practising scales herself, for we had only known the technical part
of her calling. In short, we feared that we should be do-re-mi-ou'd past
endurance. Instead of which, scraps of the gayest of ballads float over
the knoll in the evening, and the Infant's little shrill pipe is being
inoculated with real music, _via_ Mother Goose melodies sung in a
delightfully subdued contralto.
From the third day after her arrival people began to call upon Maria. I
made such a positive declaration of surrender of all matters pertaining
to the household, including curiosity, when Maria took charge,--and she
in return promised that we should not be bothered with anything not "of
vital importance to our interests,"--that, unless she runs through the
housekeeping money before the time, I haven't a ghost of an excuse for
asking questions,--but I do wonder how she manages! Also, to whom the
shadows belong that cross the south piazza at night or intercept the
rays of the dining-room lamp, our home beacon of dark nights.
In addition to the usual and convenient modern shirt-waist-and-skirt
endowment, Maria had when she came but two gowns, one of black muslin
and the other white, with improvised hats to match,--simple, graceful
gowns, yet oversombre.
But lo! she has blossomed forth like a spring seed catalogue, and Bart
insists that I watched the gate with his field-glass an hour the
afternoon of the tea, to see her go out. I did no such thing; I was
looking at an oriole's nest that hangs in the elm over the road, but I
could not help seeing the lovely pink flower hat that she wore atilt,
with just enough pink at the neck and streamers at the waist of her
dress to harmonize.