gardener between them have scarcely tamed and trained 1,000. What new
riches, therefore, may we not expect from the culture of the future?
Already in certain northern flower-pots the trillium, the bloodroot, the
dog's-tooth violet, and the celandine are abloom in May; as June
advances, the wild violet, the milkweed, the wild lily-of-the-valley,
unfold their petals; later in summer the dog-rose displays its charms
and breathes its perfume. All respond kindly to care, and were there
more of this hospitality, were the wild roses which the botanist calls
_blanda_ and _lucida_, were the cardinal flowers, the May flowers, and
many more of the treasures of glen and meadow, made welcome with
thoughtful study of their wants and habits, much would be done to extend
the wealth of our gardens. Let a hepatica be plucked from its home in a
rocky crevice where one marvels how it ever contrived to root itself and
find subsistence. Transplant it to good soil, give it a little care--it
asks none--and it will thrive as it never throve before; proving once
again that plants do not grow where they like, but where they can. The
Russian columbine rewards its cultivator with a wealth of blossoms that
plainly say how much it rejoices in his nurture of it, in its escape
from the frost and tempest that have assailed it for so many
generations.
But here we must be content to take a leaf out of nature's book, and
look for small results unless our experiments are broadly planned. It is
in great nurseries and gardens, not in little door-yards that "sports"
are likely to arise, and to meet the skill which can confirm them as new
varieties.
Japan has much to teach us with regard to flowers: nowhere else on earth
are they so sedulously cultivated, or so faithfully studied in all their
changeful beauty. Perhaps the most striking revelation of the Japanese
gardener is his treatment of flowering shrubs and flowering trees
disposed in masses. Happy the visitors to Tokio who sees in springtime
the cherry blossoms ready to lend their witchery to the Empress's
reception! Much is done to extend the reign of beauty in a garden when
it is fitly bordered with berry-bearers. Rows of mountain ash,
snow-berry, and hawthorn trees give colour just when colour is most
effective, at the time when most flowers are past and gone.
In the practical bit of ground where the kitchen garden meets the
flowers, Japan has long since enlarged its bill of fare with the tuber
of a cousin of our common hedge nettle, with the roots of the large
burdock, commoner still. In Florida, the calla lily has use as well as
beauty; it is cultivated for its potato-like tubers.
Much as the study of flowers heightens our interest in them, their
first, their chief enduring charm consists in their simple beauty--their
infinitely varied grace of form, their exhaustless wealth of changeful
tints. Off we go with delight from desk and book to a breezy field, a
wimpling brook, a quiet pond in woodland shade. A dozen rambles from May
to October will show us all the floral procession, which, beginning with
the trilliums and the violets, ends at the approach of frost with the
golden-rod and aster. But who ever formed an engaging acquaintance
without wishing it might become a close friendship? Never yet did the
observant culler of bloodroot and columbine rest satisfied with merely
knowing their names, and how can more be known unless flowers are set
up in a portrait gallery of their own for the leisurely study of their
lineaments and lineage?
A word then as to the best way to gather wild flowers. A case for them
in the form of a round tube, closed at the ends, with a hinged cover,
can be made by a tinsmith at small cost. Its dimensions should be about
thirty inches in length by five inches in diameter, with a strap
attached to carry it by. At still less expense a frame can be made, or
bought, formed of two boards, one-eighth of an inch thick, twenty-four
inches long and eighteen inches broad, with two thin battens fastened
across them to prevent warping. A quire of soft brown paper, newspaper
will do, and a strap to hold all together, complete the outfit.
Our gathered treasures at home, we may wish to deck a table or a mantel
with a few of them. The lives of impressed blossoms can be, much
prolonged by exercising a little care. Punch holes in a round of
cardboard and put the stalks through these holes before placing the
flowers in a vase. This prevents the stalks touching each other, and so
decaying before their time. A little charcoal in the water tends to keep
it pure; the water should be changed daily.
A flower will fade at last be it tended ever so carefully. If we wish to
preserve it dried we can best do so as soon as we bring it home, by
placing it between sheets of absorbent paper (newspaper will do) well
weighted down, the paper to be renewed if the plants are succulent and
if there is any risk of mildew. But a dried plant after all is only a
mummy. Its colours are gone; its form bruised and crumpled, gives only a
faint suggestion of it as it lived and breathed. Other and more pleasant
reminders of our summer rambles can be ours. With a camera of fair size
it is easy to take pictures of flowers at their best; these pictures can
be coloured in their natural tints with happy effect. In this art Mrs.
Cornelius Van Brunt, of New York, has attained extraordinary success.
Or, instead of the camera, why not at first invoke the brush and
colour-box? Only a little skill in handling them is enough for a
beginning. Practice soon increases deftness in this art as in every
other, and in a few short weeks floral portraits are painted with a
truth to nature denied the unaided pencil. For what flower, however meek
and lowly, could ever tell its story in plain black and white?
The amateur painter of flowers learns a good many things by the way; at
the very outset, that drawing accurate and clear must be the groundwork
of any painting worthy the name. Both in the use of pencil and brush
there must be a degree of painstaking observation, wholesome as a
discipline and delightful in its harvests. How many of us, unused to the
task of careful observation, can tell the number of the musk-mallow's
petals, or mark on paper the depth of fringe on a gentian, or match from
a series of dyed silks the hues of a common buttercup? Drawing and
painting sharpen the eye, and make the fingers its trained and ready
servants. From the very beginning of one's task in limning bud and
blossom, we see them richer in grace and loveliness than ever before.
When wild flowers are sketched as they grow it is often easy to give
them a new interest by adding the portraits of their insect servitors.
Amateurs who are so fortunate as to visit the West Indies have an
opportunity to paint the wonderful blossoms of the Marcgravia, whose
minister, a humming bird, quivers above it like a bit of rainbow
loosened from the sky.
Early in the history of art the wild flowers lent their aid to
decoration. The acanthus which gave its leaves to crest the capital of
the Corinthian column, the roses conventionalized in the rich fabrics of
ancient Persia, until they have been thought sheer inventions of the
weaver, are among the first items of an indebtedness which has steadily
grown in volume until to-day, when the designers who find their
inspiration in the flowers are a vast and increasing host. In a modern
mansion of the best type the outer walls are enriched with the leonine
beauty of the sun-flower; within, the mosaic floors, the silk, and paper
hangings, repeat themes suggested by the vine, the wild clematis and the
Mayflower. The stained glass windows from New York, where their
manufacture excels that of any other city in the world, are exquisite
with boldly treated lilies, poppies, and columbines. In the
drawing-room are embroideries designed by two young women of Salem,
Massachusetts, who have established a thriving industry in transferring
the glow of wild flowers to the adornment of noble houses such as this.
As one goes from studio to studio, it is cheering to find so many men
and women busy at work which is more joyful than play,--which in many
cases first taken up as a recreation disclosed a vein of genuine talent
and so pointed to a career more delightful than any other,--because it
chimes in with the love of beauty and the power of giving it worthy
expression.
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: Unable to verify "partnery" nor "tucu-tucu", but
they have been left as in the original.
The word "sylvain" has been verified as a valid word, and therefore
it has been left as in the original.
End of Project Gutenberg's Little Masterpieces of Science:, by Various