Introduction.
"Thank God for the beautiful flowers,
That blossom so sweetly and fair;
They garnish this strange life of ours,
And brighten our paths everywhere."
_Dexter Smith._
I have been thinking for some time of writing a few articles about
flowers, not for the entertainment nor instruction of those who have
extensive gardens artistically laid out, and fine conservatories with
skilled gardeners to care for the rare and costly plants, but for those,
who, like myself, have only a few beds filled with flowers, cared for by
one's own self.
Every year there is a marked advance in the floricultural kingdom. Books
and periodicals devoted to flower culture are on the increase; florists
are enlarging their domain; catalogues are scattered broadcast, and as
free as autumn leaves, some of them beautiful with their colored plates,
handsome enough to frame. Very many of the literary, religious, and
political journals of the day have their floral department, in which the
ladies gossip of their experience and exchange opinions, and we doubt if
any column is read with greater interest.
What recreation for the mind and body more pure, refining, healthful,
than that of the cultivation of flowers? How they reveal the Father's
love, and wisdom, and power! How perfect his work! Very fully have I
realized this, as I have examined bud, blossom, and leaf under the
microscope. Its magnifying power when applied to man's work, reveals
coarseness and imperfection, but in God's work only reveals new
beauties, and greater perfectness. The tiny flower, the details of which
cannot be perceived by the eye unaided, when magnified, surprises us
with its loveliness. We wonder and adore that Being whose hand created
its perfect form and arranged its tints with so much harmony. The study
of flowers with the microscope is one of never failing delight, and one
needs not the costly instrument to enjoy this study. The round open
glass, the size of a half dollar, and costing the same, serves every
needful purpose.
Not only have I enjoyed the examination of flowers, but also of insect
life, specially of those terrible pests to our rosebushes and some other
plants--the _aphides_. I have closely watched their development, from
the tiny egg to the portly insect, so filled with the juice of the leaf,
that like it, he is green all over. First I observe a little speck of
red in the egg--then it has slight motion--next it runs about, and the
spot is a little larger, sometimes it is black. Sometimes the baby aphis
is all red. Now and then I find a different sort mixed up with them; the
body is much larger and transparent white. Some have wings. Skeletons,
or more properly, cast-off skins, are often seen, but with the closest
observation I have never been able to trace these to their source. Once,
I was sure that a fellow was divesting himself of his overcoat, and I
watched him till my eyes ached too badly for further investigation.
These insects are the cows of a certain species of ant, and I am sure
they are quite welcome to all I have, provided they will have their yard
on other premises, though I would like to detain them long enough to see
the milking process. Some have seen it and written about it, so, strange
as it seems, it is no fiction.
In this series of articles which I have entitled "Talks About Flowers,"
I shall, in a very informal manner, talk to you about just those matters
pertaining to the flower garden, in which beginners and amateurs are
interested; to this class I belong; I am not a skilled florist, my
experience is limited; I am only a student in the lower classes of
floriculture, but I dearly love my lessons. I am acquiring knowledge
both from books and personal observation, and I shall enjoy imparting to
those not so favored with time and resources the results of this study,
believing it will be duly appreciated by my readers, and their interest
in the cultivation of flowers be thereby increased. I shall talk to you
about the sowing of seeds, the arrangement of your garden, the plants
with which to stock it, treating of them historically and descriptively,
with mode of culture. I shall talk to you about the most desirable
bulbs, about climbing plants, hanging pots, and the window garden, and
shall seek to meet in all these the wishes of many inquirers.
A Talk to Farmers' Wives.
"Not useless are ye flowers, though made for pleasure,
Blooming in field and wood by day and night;
From every source your presence bids me treasure
Harmless delight."
"Once more I take my pen in hand," as the old time epistle was wont to
begin. While a "Young Farmer" discourseth of matters pertaining to the
farm, I propose to talk to farmers' wives and daughters of matters
relating to the flower garden. This article is specially dedicated to
them, and not to them as a whole, but to that class among them who take
no periodical devoted to flower culture, and find no time even to study
the various catalogues scattered broadcast, as sure precursors of spring
as are the falling leaves of autumn. Therefore you who have your floral
papers, your bay windows filled with plants, or your fine
conservatories, whether a farmer's wife or not, this is not written for
you, and you need not read any further.
There are many farmers' wives who give little attention to the
cultivation of flowers. Busy lives the most of them lead, and their
indoor work shuts them off largely from the enjoyment of those beauties
nature has so lavishly spread around them. It is a pity that any of them
should say, "I have no time to waste over flowers; they bring neither
food nor clothing."
Call that wasted time when tired, nervous, fretful perhaps, you leave
the heated rooms and run out to see if the seeds you sowed last week
have come up, or how the seedlings you set out are thriving? To look at
that opening rosebud, pick off the withered leaves from the geranium,
stir the earth a bit around that heliotrope, and linger over the dear
little pansies as their bright faces are up-turned to greet you and
cheer you with their diversified beauty? Gather a few; they will bloom
all the more because of it. There, now, don't you feel nicely rested?
The feeling of fretfulness is all gone. Refreshed in body and mind, you
resume your housework, and accomplish it much more effectively than if
you had kept right on, so tired and all out of sorts. Better far these
moments of out-door recreation than blue pill or bitters. All this is
anticipatory of the "good time coming" to you this summer. That kind
husband of yours when he goes to the store to buy his garden seeds, or
order them from abroad, is going to include an equal number of flower
seeds. He would have done it long ago but he did not think anything
about it. But you are going to give him a hint this spring. You can tell
him that in the general seed box there is one corner where are certain
dainty little packages labeled Candytuft--purple, carmine, white or
mixed; Mignonnette, Aster, Balsam, Pink, Petunia, Sweet Peas, etc.,
etc., and you tell him that those Sweet Peas bloom the most fragrant
blossoms for five months, while his "Extra Early," whether "Blue Peter"
or "Blue Tom Thumb," last only a little while. So as he goes on his way
he will think to himself, "Wife works hard; she makes capital butter and
keeps the house real tidy, and I guess I must indulge her." When he
returns home he gives you those little packages, in each tiny brown seed
of which there lies hidden a beautiful life--a life that shall, by
loving care, develop "the red, white and blue" in settings of emerald,
the influence of which shall be felt by the entire household, and bring
forth a fruitage of brightness, gladness and love.
It may be that you live remote from the village store, or perhaps there
may not be kept there a good, reliable assortment of flower seeds, so I
will tell you what to do in that case, for I wish to be helpful every
step of the way. You must send to some good florist for what you want,
enclosing stamps, if for an amount less than one dollar. You have your
seeds now, and some of them need to be started in the house in order to
secure early flowers, Asters, Petunias, Pinks, Pansies, Snapdragon and
Sweet Peas. Sift your earth through a coarse sieve. A little sharp sand
is good to mix with it. Shallow boxes are best, except for the peas. I
use cigar boxes. Dampen the earth, then sow thickly in rows, cover
lightly with more soil, dampen again, label, cover with paper so that
the moisture may not evaporate rapidly, and place in a sunny window.
Daily sprinkle through a fine rose pot, or with your fingers lightly if
you have none. However good your seeds may be, they will not grow if
kept dry, and will rot if kept too wet. The seedlings must be nursed
with care, not too much sun while tender. I do not thin out mine till I
transplant to the border, but many do, potting them singly. Peas can be
set out earliest of any. Sunny days in May often tempt one to bed out
their tender plants, and sow seed in open ground; then come cold nights,
when the fragile seedlings need a hot soapstone to their feet. It is
best to wait till warm weather is fully established, and then choose a
cloudy day for the work. Protect from the sun's rays till the plants are
established in their new quarters. Now, all this looks like much work
and care, I know, but it is only a little work, a little care each day,
and it is a work that will be a restful change, and bring you better
health and better feelings, and when you gather the lovely flowers from
the seeds you have sown and cultured, you will not say: "My time was all
misspent."