G60R06 H.6LLWANG6R forma THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES !.. .^.. ..;., ..;.. :...> :...: :,.« t.. ' ' .r;":., „ y ..:,, ..:., ..:., ..?.„ . :x: !i: ::i:! :r :r // FROM THE COLLECTION OF F. L. OLMS7ET LQWTHORPESCHGC, THE GARDEN'S STORY PLEASURES AND TRIALS OF AN AMATEUR GARDENER BY GEORGE H. ELLWANGER NEW YORK D. APPLETON AND COMPANY MDCCCLXXXIX COPYRIGHT, 1889, BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY TO REV. C. WOLLEY DOD, MASTER OF GARDENING, WHOSE WORK AMONG HARDY PLANTS HAS DONE SO MUCH FOR THE ADVANCEMENT OF FLORICULTURE, THIS INCOMPLETE RECORD OF THE GARDEN- YEAR IS RESPECTFULLY AND GRATEFULLY INSCRIBED. You find me in my garden dress. You will excuse it, I know. It is an ancient pursuit, gardening. Primitive, my dear sir ; for, if I am not mistaken, Adam was the first of our calling. — PECKSNIFF. I am of Opinion that one considerable way to improve Gardening and the Culture of Plants would be to give a de- scription of the Plants themselves ; then the Soils, Climates, and Countries where the Plants to be cultivated naturally grow ; and what Seasons, Rains, and Meteors they have : which, being imitated as much as possible, perhaps some Plants might thrive better than they do now on the fattest Ground. — PHILOSOPHICAL TRANSACTIONS OF THE ROYAL SO- CIETY TO THE END OF THE YEAR l/OO, ARTICLE LXXXIV. HE publication of a book on the Gar- den calls for no apology — there are not half enough contemporary works on the subject ; there never can be too many. The design of the present volume is to direct attention to the importance of hardy flower- gardening as a means of outward adornment and as a source of recreation. Some of the very many hardy plants, shrubs, and climbers which may be advantageously employed are mentioned, and some hints are given with re- spect to their use and culture. I am aware the list is far from complete, even for this rigorous climate, where the line is distinctly drawn by the extremes of heat and cold. To enumerate all plants worthy a place under cultivation would require the knowledge vi preface. and experience of a Loudon ; and tastes vary largely as regards the worth and beauty of in- dividual flowers. It has been the aim to present a simple out- line of hardy flower-gardening, rather than a formal treatise or text-book of plants — to stimu- late a love for amateur gardening that may be carried out by all who are willing to bestow upon it that meed of attention it so bountifully repays. Nearly all the subjects referred to are such as may be successfully grown in the low- er lake region, and, for the most part, have come under notice in the writer's garden. Different soils and different treatment often produce widely dissimilar results ; and even the limited list presented may possibly be found to contain some departure from the well-known types. Moreover, it is pleasant sometimes to look at a flower through different eyes. The flower remains the same, though its perfume may become accentuated, and the garden prove the more inviting the oftener its beauties are set forth. preface. vu The following chapters have been so ar- ranged as to present the various aspects of the garden from early spring until late autumn. But the garden year is so interwoven with the many delightful phases of external nature that, the more fully to preserve the sequence of the seasons, it has been deemed advisable to touch also upon the Taird and insect life with which it is so intimately connected. The bee, the moth, the butterfly, are all inseparable attend- ants upon the flowers, and have their mission in the economy of the garden. The birds, also, are constant visitors to every nook and corner, and likewise possess an interest and have a voice in the garden's progress from day to. day. Numerous references to the wild flowers in their native haunts, a chapter on the rock-gar- den, and a chapter on hardy ferns, have been introduced ; and, finally, more or less allusion to the flowers and seasons in literature has been made. The year referred to is that of 1888. G. H. E. ROCHESTER, N. Y., 1889. PAGE PREFACE v I. THE GARDEN IN ANTICIPATION ... 3 II. AN OUTLINE OF THE GARDEN ... 31 III. THE SPRING WILD FLOWERS . . -59 IV. WHEN DAFFODILS BEGIN TO PEER . . 81 V. THE ROCK-GARDEN 105 VI. THE SUMMER FLOWERS . . . -135 VII. Two GARDEN FAVORITES . . . .165 VIII. WARM-WEATHER WISDOM . . . .193 IX. MY INSECT VISITORS 209 X. HARDY SHRUBS AND CLIMBERS . . .229 XI. IN AND OUT OF THE GARDEN . . . 245 XII. THE HARDY FERNERY . . . .261 XIII. MIDSUMMER FLOWERS AND MIDSUMMER VOICES 275 XIV. FLOWERS AND FRUITS OF AUTUMN . . 293 XV, THE LAST MONK'S-HOOD SPIRE . . . 315 INDEX 329 (Elje ar5en in Anticipation. And the spring comes slowly up this way. CHRISTABEL. Or call it winter, which, being full of care. Makes summer's welcome thrice more wished, more rare. SONNET LVI. THE GARDEN IN ANTICIPATION. T appears a long way removed still — the goal toward which the length- ening days are slowly trending. In place of rampant Aries, ever charging upon the delaying spring, Patience-on-a-Monument would seem an equally appropriate symbol of March, were the signs of the zodiac to be remodeled. The seconds drag through a never-emptying minute-glass, until one wearies utterly of the tedium of the " loaded hours," and wonders not at the impassioned cry of the poet : O God, for one clear day, a snow-drop and sweet air ! Yet, bluster as he will, March has at most four weeks to retard the " open sesame ! " How gratefully the grass will smile at the first warm rains ; and what a caressing odor will arise with the first whiff of Daphne mezereum, a foretaste 's Storj. of its sweeter sister, the rosy-cheeked Daphne cneorum, and all the train of expectant flowers ! Slowly, yet surely, the hour of the year is ad- vancing. Under the ermine of winter, April's treasures await only the robins' rondeau to call them forth. And what pleasure there is in the anticipation! The swarms of tulips already gathering their forces— the dazzling rex rubro- rums, the bizarres, and the tall marbled by- bloems, which look like the old-fashioned silks of our pretty grandmothers. That bank of oxlips, cowslips, and primroses, too — " crimson-maroon sparkler," " Danesford yellow hose - in - hose," " lilac pantaloons," and ever so many more in- viting names — which you placed along the south garden-wall, what a mass of bloom will not push through the mottled earth ! And that hamper of daffodil-bulbs, sent by a friend in England, what wealth of beaten gold will not unfold from the fragrant petals ! • Will pallidus prcecox outstrip obvallaris in the race ; and will " golden plover " vie with " golden dragon " ; or can any daffodil, born or yet unborn, excel the glorious bicolor of the Lancashire weaver, John Horsfield? Only, as every rose has its thorn, Horsfieldi has its seri- ous drawback, at least with me, in decreasing in vigor every year. Perhaps it is the fault of soil ; fin more probably a matter of climate. But, inas- much as I have succeeded in wooing the coquet- tish Lilium auratum so that she smiles instead of frowns, I shall continue to persevere with Horsfieldi, which is worth any pains to obtain in the perfect full-blown flower. To think it has taken all these years to ren- der a daffodil " fashionable " ! As if a live flow- er were a ribbon, subject to the caprice of a milliner! Yet, what may we not expect when lovely woman stoops to blond her tresses, and vandal florists figuratively plunge a flower into the dye-pot ? Scarcely a case where beauty is truth, truth beauty. Perhaps, some day, ma- genta may become the mode, and a magenta gown call for its accompanying flower of the same shade — a chance to let a zinnia scream. The camellia, described in the dictionary as "a genus of beautiful plants," fortunately has had its day — banished with the wax flowers in Wardian cases, let us hope, never to return ; too bloodless and too cold even for a chancel ; a flower absolutely without a soul. In the in- dex expurgatorius should be included the calla lily, which still does lugubrious duty at funerals. Talmage's wish that, when he dies, his grave may be strewed with a handful of violets, a water-lily, a sprig of arbutus, a cluster of asters, rather than 'a Storj. that he be laid in imperial catafalque of Russian czar, is a sentiment relatives would do well to consider at the obsequies of those they may be called upon to mourn. The final tributes at the grave, above all, should express the floral prefer- ences of the departed — the old custom of the Indians, clothed in a softer, lovelier garb. In-door flowers at this season atone, in a measure, for those unobtainable out of doors — always providing one can afford to pay a dollar apiece as the price of a new rose, and shut one's olfactories to the taint of tobacco-smoke and the villainous-smelling stuff shot at the red spi- der that frequently adheres to the glass-grown queen of flowers. Marie Louise violets and lilies of the valley lose none of their sweetness by being grown out of season. The violet ! how pure its wave of fragrance ! And the potfuls of "grand soleil d'or" and "grand primo " taz- zettas! — surely here is spring incense enough to fill a cathedral at Easter-tide. Is there any odor more delectable than the mingled essence of pineapple, orange, and banana, which this form of the poet's flower exhales? To many, the odor of paper-white (Narcissus papyra- ceus) and the Campernelle jonquil (N. odorus) is almost overpowering; they should be used sparingly, therefore— a single spathe will suffice En Slnttcfpatfon. to scent your library. Powerful enough they are to have pleased Baudelaire, who, preferring musk to violets or roses, declared, "My soul hovers over perfumes as the soul of others hov- ers over music." There is, indeed, an intoxica- tion, and often a strong association, in the sub- tile odor emitted by certain flowers. Does not the perfume of Liltum auratum, stealing from the spotted petals, recall the reedy jungle and the stalking tiger? Or a gorgeous epiphytal orchid, steeped in its mysterious perfume, does it not simulate unconsciously some strange form of tropic insect or animal life ? I oftener recall a flower by its odor, to which sentiment tena- ciously clings, than by mere characteristics of form or color. What an indelible aroma, that of the fragrant everlasting of the fields !— a wild, haunting odor, as of fallen leaves after the latter rains, when the sun extracts their essences, rather than the characteristic fragrance of a flower. Through its rustling, ashen petals I already inhale the autumn from afar, and an- ticipate the last sad cricket's cry. If Addison be taken for authority, we can not have a single image in the fancy that does not make its first entrance through the sight* — a dogma which, * " On the Pleasures of the Imagination." 8 ?Ti)e ©arten's Storg. though emanating from the " Spectator," is manifestly sophistical and untrue. Was Addi- son deficient in the sense of smell (the voice of a flower) ; or was a thrush's song powerless to awaken in him a sentiment of sublimity ? But Addison does not mention odors, and, for the most part, I take it, did not like external sounds; or was it Steele who wrote the essay " On the London Cries " ? Bulwer declares, the only perfume a man should use is soap and water — a heresy. I would not for a moment commend musk, or even ylang-ylang ; though the latter, it seems to me, is preferable to the compound of Jean Ma- ria Farina with which men fairly saturate them- selves. Consider its ingredients : orange, cedrat, neroly, bergamot, and rosemary— scent enough to trap a cougar. But this is supposed to be fashionable ; while a hem-stitched handkerchief, with a lingering scent of violets, has no business to peep from the masculine pocket. Why should everything dainty be monopolized by the fair sex ? Has it not enough, with its feathers and ribbons and laces and jewelry, without carrying out the adage to its ultimatum, " sweets to the sweet " ? It even robs masculinity of any pro- prietorship to color, except what little can be focused into a scarf, or polka-dot a waistcoat. gntfcfpatfon. I'o be sure, there are those striped Joseph's- coats one meets at the sea-side, appropriately termed "blazers," which woman openly pro- fesses to admire, only to contrast them inward- ly with the sea-side habiliments of her own hu- man form divine. Even her blue bathing-dress she has deliberately pirated from the sailor of the high seas, and pilfered the crowning charac- teristic that proclaims man a man — the stove- pipe hat. Let those of the sterner sex who love the delicate aroma of a flower not hesitate to use its essence when distilled by an Atkinson, if the flower itself can not be had to take its place on the lapel. Does not Dumas pere, in the "Vi- comte de Bragelonne," speak of the Bishop of Vannes as exhaling " that delicate perfume which, with elegant men and women of the grand world, never changes, seeming to be in- corporated in the person of which it has become the natural emanation " ? Another case where they manage these things better in France. It is well known, moreover, that flower-essences are prophylactic and antiseptic — the more reason why they should be employed in moderation, and that their use be not monopolized by woman. "There are perfumes," says Gautier, "which are fresh as the skin of a child, green as spring Storj?. meadows, recalling the flush of sunrise, and car- rying with them thoughts of innocence. Others, like musk, amber, benzoin, spikenard, and in- cense, are superb, triumphant, mundane, pro- vocative of coquetry, love, luxury, festivity, and splendor. Were they transposed to the sphere of colors, they would represent gold and purple." I open the jar of rose pot-pourri to flood the room with the subtile essence of June. No evanescent odor, but one that permeates and clings, evaporating not, changing not its sweet- ness from year to year. I do not refer to the dry, soapy-smelling article of commerce labeled "Tea-rose Pot-pourri from Japan," but to the old-fashioned "rose-jar," made from your own garden-roses, blended with a sufficiency of other sweets to hold its perfume immutable. It is difficult to give a precise recipe for a rose pot- pourri, for no two ever turn out quite alike. I would say, however, with fat old Baron Brisse in the preface to an entrte in his " Petite Cui- sine " : " There is a certain point in this prepara- tion rather difficult to seize ; but this is the way to set about it in order to be complimented : " The roses employed should be just blown, of the sweetest-smelling kinds, gathered in as dry a state as possible. After each gathering, spread out the petals on a sheet of paper and antfcfpatfon. leave until free from all moisture ; then place a layer of petals in the jar, sprinkling with coarse salt ; then another layer and salt, alternating until the jar is full. Leave for a few days, or until a broth is formed ; then incorporate thor- oughly, and add more petals and salt, mixing daily for a week, when fragrant gums and spices should be added, such as benzoin, storax, cassia- buds, cinnamon, cloves, cardamom, and vanilla- bean. Mix again, and leave for a few days, when add essential oil of jasmine, violet, tuber- ose, and attar of roses, together with a hint of ambergris or musk, in mixture with the flower ottos to fix the odor. Spices, such as cloves, should be sparingly used. A rose pot-pourri thus combined, without parsimony in supplying the flower ottos, will be found in the fullest sense a joy forever. Notwithstanding the rarity of flowers at this season, no one with space enough for the small- est kitchen-garden need be without at least an 'abundance of violets. A small stock of strong young plants, placed in good soil in May in a partially shaded position, will have increased sufficiently by November to supply a hot-bed. These should be planted within a few inches of the glass, early enough to insure their rooting well before extreme cold weather. The hot-bed ffiartcn's Storn. should be placed in the most sheltered and sun- shiny position, and be thoroughly protected on the sides with leaves or straw, and the sashes covered with thick matting and boards to ex- clude frost. So soon as the weather allows, in spring or during the winter, air should be given gradually during the day, recollecting that cold currents of air should be guarded against. As the weather becomes warm, and the plants require it, they may be watered occasionally. Pinch- ing back the runners will increase the bloom. After blossoming, lift the plants, divide them and place them in the open, as before. Dur- ing extreme dry weather they will naturally be much benefited by an occasional watering and mulching. No one who cares for flowers will grudge the little trouble and trifling cost of a violet-bed which yields its wealth of blossom when other out-of-door flowers are still buried beneath the snow. I know of nothing that af- fords so much satisfaction for so little pains. Marie Louise is incomparably the most fragrant, floriferous, and satisfactory variety for hot-bed culture. From the adjoining hill-side at nightfall I hear the weird nocturne of the small screech- owl. A pair has always had its abode in the covert, in company with the red squirrels that En gntfcfpatfon. 13 bark so fiercely at the falling nuts in autumn. They each give an air of wildness to the sur- roundings, and one feels as if the trees had found an expressive voice. I can not compre- hend why the owl should invariably be associ- ated with gloom and deeds of evil, or that his voice should allow us to forget for a moment his accomplishments as a mouser. When other birds have deserted us, and even the squirrel remains in his hollow tree, the cry of the owl rings out sonorously on the winter twilight, " I am here ! " Well may Thoreau rejoice that there are owls, and Jesse admire their soft and silent flight. Charles .Lotin Hildreth is superla- tively the poet-laureate of the bird of wisdom. Shakespeare, Barry Cornwall, Shelley, Words- worth, Jean Ingelow, and Tennyson must each and all give place to his apostrophe. Take the opening and the closing stanzas, for instance : There is no flame of sunset on the hill, There is no flush of twilight in the plain ; The day is dead, the wind is weird and shrill ; Amid the gloom the sheeted shapes of rain Glide to and fro with stealthy feet and still, And, wilder than the wood's autumnal moan, A voice wails through the night, " Alone, alone ! " Night deepens on the haggard close of day With wilder clamor of the wind and rain ; 14 &i)e ffiartrcn's Storj?. Louder the beaten branches groan and sway ; And fitfully the voice comes once again, Across the fields, more faint and far away. Is it the dark bird's wailing backward blown, Or my own heart that cries, " Alone, alone ! " The snow is fast retreating despite the raw March winds, though St. Patrick and the vernal equinox have yet to engage in their accustomed brawl. Indeed, St. Patrick never comes in with- out brandishing his' blackthorn. As 'tis an ill wind turns none to good, so the dreaded equi- noctial is not without its advantages. Not hav- ing Blasius for authority, I can not tell why it is so ; nevertheless, the weather-vane of the equi- nox for the three days of its duration is an index to the character of the weather for the succeed- ing two or three months. A puzzling rule of three, no doubt, but why not as probable as that three consecutive white frosts are a never-failing sign of rain ? To be more explicit, the general direction of the wind and character of the weath- er during the several equinoxes would seem to be followed during the greater portion of the next quarter of the year by a like general direc- tion of the wind and character of weather. Avant-couriers of spring continue to blos- som diurnally through the post, in the shape of flower and vegetable catalogues. These unfold fin gntfctyatron. 15 some interesting studies in form, and reveal new possibilities of color. Many of the covers seem Koula rugs transformed into card-board ; and the hideous greens, saffrons, and magentas that gape from the Anatolias in the carpet-store win- dows appear to have been lavishly borrowed to heighten the effect of the foliage and fruit of some new strain of gourd, ruta-baga, or colossal onion. The most powerful appeal of the season is a full-page plate of liver-colored tomatoes and zinnias in combination. In another distinctly aesthetic overture, a plant of the Ipom&a tribe, sent out under the name of moon-flower, has embowered an entire cottage ; while the moon itself, represented as rising in the horizon, shines only with a borrowed splendor in the presence of this high-class luminary. When the cata- logue informs one, in addition, that " the flowers, when unfolding, expand so rapidly as to be plainly seen, affording amusement and instruc- tion, and that, being a free bloomer, the effect on a moonlight night is charming," the reader need no longer doubt the advent of the floral millennium. Surely it is the weather that the crows have been denouncing so vehemently for several even- ings from their roost in the immediate vicinity. If we have not the rook, I am glad we have his 1 6 ?Ti)e ©fattren's Storj. larger Plutonian cousin. His dusky shadow and husky bass have a charm of their own, and har- monize with the bleakness of early spring and the somberness of late autumn. Apart from the pestiferous English sparrow, the crow supplies almost our only winter voice. I place him with the black hellebore or Christmas-rose — a very good thing to have until there is something bet- ter to take his place. The Ettrick Shepherd should have substituted the crow-blackbird when he said, " The crow is down in the devil's book in round hand." I am glad to hear Phil Robin- son say he should be reluctant to deny this bird every one of the virtues ; and John Burroughs exclaim : " I love him ; he is a character I would not willingly miss from the landscape." The advance-guard of the robins has come, behind its usual time, but their reception has been too cold as yet to expect them to proclaim their presence in an audible manner. For the robins' silence the sparrows are doing double duty. I shall have to set my long pole in mo- ' tion again, and banish them from the front verandas to those of my neighbors. Birds, it is well known, will not endure being disturbed from their roosts ; and one or two dislodgments after nightfall will suffice to rout even the spar- row, although he is so disgustingly numerous atntfcfpatfon. 17 that there are soon others ready to take his place as public defilers. Too cunning to be poisoned, a light charge of No. 12 shot is the best means of allaying his obstreperous cry. I usually leave the corpses of the chief offenders, the noisiest among the cock birds, in some conspicuous place for a day or two, and the matutinal tom- tom in the sugar- maple near my sleeping-room gives place to a sense of delicious repose. One of the necessities of the hour is a noiseless pow- der, and a practical sparrow -gun, light and cheap enough to be generally utilized. A twelve- gauge gun answers the purpose, save for the loudness of the report ; and a small rifle is effective, but the successful use of this requires too much skill to meet the popular demand. Through the means proposed, no one need be disturbed except the chief offender, and a liberal supply of cartridges would perceptibly rid one of his loathsome presence. " The sparrow car- ries no purse," says Phil Robinson, " for he steals all he wants ; and his name is in no di- rectory, for his address is the world." If Bry- ant lived to-day, he would assuredly change his false refrain, " The Old- World sparrow is wel- come here." An anonymous writer voices a charming sentiment : " Cursed be the man — the enemy of the peace of all civilized Americans— 1 8 STfje ©fatfoen's particular plants. Certain perfumes delightful to some are disagreeable to others ; while, so long as people exist who can endure magenta passively, we may never hope to exile such nightmares as Achillea rosea from the border, or some of the shades of the Cineraria from the greenhouse. All hardy plants, desirable and beautiful themselves, which will thrive in the soil and position chosen, and which are not so small as to be lost in the bor- der, may be used appropriately ; these will be alluded to specifically, later on, in their order of flowering. Experience will teach what not to plant bet- ©farften's Storj. ter than volumes of instruction. Usually, sub- jects that sucker and throw out strong, creeping root-stalks are objectionable. Do not introduce rows in the borders ; plants are not supposed to be on military review. Neither dot the ground at equal distances ^ith the same subjects often repeated ; variety is the spice of the garden. Though the taller-growing subjects, as a rule, are best placed in the background, an occasional colony of large plants should be placed in the center, and some large individual specimens re- lieve the foreground. Massing, where too much space is not called for, is desirable, especially with medium-sized subjects ; though attention must be paid to selection, or large bare spaces after blooming will obtrude. Where daffodils are largely grown, summer and autumn flower- ing subjects, like the columbines and Japanese anemones, should be placed in close proximity, to fill the void left when the bulbs die clown in summer; or light-rooting subjects, like the lovely Iceland poppy and some of the finer small annuals, may be employed to take their place. The great secret of successful floriculture is continuity of bloom — a luxuriance of blossom from early spring to late autumn ; so that, when one species has flowered, there will at once be some- thing else to continue the blossoming period with- an ©utlme of tije ®artJen. 53 out leaving unsightly gaps of bare ground. The necessity of placing plants intelligently will thus be readily apparent — the just apportioning of spring, summer, and autumn subjects with these several ends in view. Moderate shade is of ad- vantage to many flowers, but this should never be obtained from trees planted in the border itself. Plant permanently, mass boldly. Do not confine yourself to a few kinds when there is such a wealth to choose from— plants for sun- shine and plants for shade, plants for color and plants for fragrance, plants for spring and plants for autumn, plants for flower and plants for form. Aim at individuality, to produce an ideal of your own. Many half-hardy plants in the accepted sense can be grown by simply protecting them with leaves over winter. Plant for permanency lilies, irises, roses, delphiniums, phloxes, spiraeas, hemerocallis, narcissi, columbines, day lilies, her- baceous paeonias, bell-flowers, anemones, fraxi- nellas, perennial sunflowers, the great and less- er poppies, centaureas — the list is inexhaustible. Avoid coarse, weedy subjects, unless in special cases where habit may be compensated by bloom or special adaptation to situation ; these are usu- ally best placed by themselves in the distance or the rear garden. Many an old-fashioned coun- 54 try garden can teach us much on the subject of selecting proper border flowers. The flower- border may be raised very slightly, to insure per- fect drainage and to emphasize its contour, but never be so elevated as to cause over-dryness ; elevated beds and borders are designed for plants which do not require much moisture. The skillful planter will not forget to place showy subjects with reference to their effect from the interior of the house, so that the beau- ty of the garden may be admired from within during inclement weather. A garden may be rendered beautiful from early spring until late autumn with perennial flowers alone ; but it may be rendered still more attractive by the judicious use of many of the finer annuals, biennials, and foliage plants as well. By the term " judicious " I mean not only a use of annuals of merit, but annuals properly placed; perennial flower-borders should consist in the main of perennial flowers. To cultivate hardy flowers it is not necessary to be an Asa Gray, though a knowledge of botany must always afford an ever-increasing satisfaction and pleas- ure. A love for flowers one must have : one can not be a Peter Bell in floriculture. Finally, the garden syllabus may also be written on two tables of stone : &n ©utlfne of tftc CKartJen. 55 I. Whatever is worth growing at all is worth growing well. II. Study soil and exposure, and cultivate no more space than can be maintained in perfect order. III. Plant thickly ; it is easier and more profitable to raise flowers than weeds. IV. Avoid stiffness and exact balancing; garden vases and garden flowers need not neces- sarily be used in pairs. V. A flower is essentially feminine, and de- mands attention as the price of its smiles. VI. Let there be harmony and beauty of color. Magenta in any form is a discord that should never jar. VII. In studying color-effects, do not over- look white as a foil ; white is the lens of the garden's eye. VIII. Think twice and then still think be- fore placing a tree, shrub, or plant in posi- tion. Think thrice before removing a speci- men tree. IX. Grow an abundance of flowers for cut- ting ; the bees and butterflies are not entitled to all the spoils. X. Keep on good terms with your neighbor ; you may wish a large garden-favor of him some day. ffiartoen's XI. Love a flower in advance, and plant something every year. XII. Show me a well-ordered garden, and I will show you a genial home. ®l)e Spring flowers. Shall we be so forward to pluck the fruits of Nature and neglect her flowers? These are surely her finest influences. So may the season suggest the thoughts it is fitted to suggest. . . . Let me know what picture Nature is painting, what po- etry she is writing, what ode composing now. — THOREAU. III. THE SPRING WILD FLOWERS. HE exhilarating sensation of the first warm late April day ! A new life in the sunshine, a sweeter breath in the south wind : the breath of green fields and re- animated woodlands ; the fresh, unctuous smell of the soil ! To it every living thing responds — the awaiting birds, the dry chrysalis, the impris- oned flowers. How merrily bluebird and mead- ow-lark ring out their welcome ! With what a rush Hepatica, bloodroot, spring beauty, and dog-tooth violet burst through the mold ! How all the wild, glad host of pulsating things seems eager to roll away the resurrection-stone ! I never see and feel the start of vegetation without recalling Remy Belleau's sixteenth-cent- ury lyric on April, which still exhales the very essence of spring — a lyric unsurpassed by any I am acquainted with on a similar theme. To 60 arje (Kartell's Stora?. April the French poet assigns a place exalted above all the other months: " Avril, I'honneur et des bois et des mot's!" Unsurpassed in the original, the apostrophe is admirably rendered by Andrew Lang : April, pride of murmuring Winds of spring, That beneath the winnowed air Trap with subtle nets and sweet Flora's feet, Flora's feet, the fleet and fair. . . . Nothing could be more truly descriptive of the mad hurrying into life of the spring flora than the spirit and allegro throughout the poem. I think the first of inanimate wild life to pierce the ground is the well-known member of the aroids, the skunk-cabbage {Symplocarpus fcetidtus). A rank, foul, noxious weed, " a noi- some hermit of the marsh," it is usually consid- ered— surely an unjust stricture. It has a clean, wholesome smell, a pungent, growing, out-of- doors smell, with no taint of corruption. Greuze would have admired its lovely greens, and, I doubt not, a poet will yet be born to praise its rugged precocity. I have planted it in the rear garden, on the edge of the copse, as a wild foli- age-plant, just to watch its incurved horn and gigantic leaves expand. So long as we grow 5Tf)e Sprfttfl JWfltr iflotoers. 61 the crown imperial, we can well overlook the odor of the great green aroid which so boldly ushers in the spring. The infinite shades of green which Nature has in her color-box ! I say nothing of the mar- velous greens of her twilight skies, or those of her streams and waters, but simply the greens of vegetation. There is another autumn of color in the spring foliage, so varied are the shadings of the buds and young leaves. Indeed, it is often difficult to tell where green begins or ceases, so interblended it is with reds and yel- lows. The different colors of the soil, too, what variety they present ! there is almost a rainbow in the clays alone ! I do not remember having noticed magenta in either foliage or soil. When Nature uses it in a flower, she is rather sparing, or gives it a proper foil of green to tone it down ; its wild, barbaric effect she leaves to frescoes, florist's cinerarias, and Bahadur rugs. Once started, the wild flowers succeed one another with astounding rapidity. The arbutus appears blushing almost beneath the snow, and so quickly is it followed by the many other early flowers that it becomes difficult to place them in their proper succession. A sheltered situation where the sun concentrates its warmth often calls out a species before its regular time, inter- 62 Cfte CKarHen's cepting earlier species in less favored localities. Many of the flowers that we shall meet in the swamps and woods will be found worthy of a conspicuous place in the garden. Few realize the richness of our native flora. Comparatively few are familiar with its infinite grace and beauty in its chosen haunts. Fewer still appreciate how many of our wild flowers thrive under proper cultivation, or how much they add to the charm of the garden. Nature shows us the effect of liberal planting and bold massing. The wood- lands hold no bare patches ; each flower is quickly succeeded by another. The ground now glowing with the little spring beauty (Clay- tonia Vtrginica) will soon be painted with vio- lets and Trillhims ; and where the Hepaticas run riotously over the hill-side, ferns and flower- ing plants innumerable will take the place they have vacated. The Hepatica is one of the earli- est flowers to extend an invitation to the woods. It grows on sandy hill -sides, frequents open glades hides, in shady hollows, and, like Mont- gomery's daisy, "blossoms everywhere." In color it varies from a lovely blue to pure white, shading to lavender and a soft flesh-tint. The spring beauty is scarcely less charming, and is even more prodigal in moist places. Not sat- isfied with one color, its flower -clusters also 2Tj)e Sprfrta Offliltj Sflototts. 63 assume several hues — white, with shadings of rose, and penciled with deeper-colored veins. There is another form of spring beauty (C. parviflora), from Oregon, equally free bloom- ing, which flowers later and spreads freely from seed. Besides these, I find five additional forms mentioned in the " Botanical Survey of the Fortieth Parallel." Whoever has been in the woods in early spring has met the bloodroot (Sanguinaria Canadensis), with its white, star-shaped corolla, the delicately scented flowers preceding the large, kidney-shaped leaves. Its only fault is its ephemeral nature ; you scarcely obtain a glimpse of it ere it is gone. It belongs to the poppy- worts, nearly all of which are familiar with the Horatian refrain : Vitas summa brevis spem nos vetat inchoare longam. I suppose many flowers, like many people, have their faults, if such they may be called. Even the arbutus, if born again, I think, would wish to appear with fresher leaves. When violets of every kind have jeweled the fields and meadows, and crept into the swamps and woods, there comes a sudden fall of snow. The great white flakes everywhere strew the ground, clustering round the beech- 64 2n>e (SJartJen's JStorj. boles, flecking the hill-sides, dotting the slopes — the chaste, pure triangles of the white wood-lily (Trillium grandiflorum). Individual among flowers, the Trillium is scentless — lovely enough without perfume. To enjoy its full beauty, you should come suddenly upon it in its wild-wood home, or naturalize it with the bloodroot by the hundreds, under trees or in shady spots in the garden. It will hardly bear the shortest journey after cutting. If you would have it in the house, you should grow it in large potfuls, treating it like the narcissus. The English pro- nounce it one of the most beautiful of hardy plants, and I exchange it every year, with friends in Cheshire and Kent, for Horsfieldi daffodils. The purple variety ( T. erectum) often keeps it company. It is a jaunty flower at home, but somehow appears out of place under cultivation. T. erythrocarpum is a very pretty species, fluttering a small white corolla with a lively carmine eye. I found it swarming in the Adirondacks with the large white and purple varieties. In "Les Fleurs de Pleine Terre," which I opened by accident on page 1151, it is amusing to read, under " Trillium grandiflorum" " The Trilliums are curious rather than pretty plants, and rather delicate, perhaps." To have the Cte Sptfnjj ttfrit jflotoers. 65 Trillium thus characterized provokes a smile. A strange flower it certainly is — its leaves, calyx, and corolla a triangle. In the same volume I find the bloodroot described as " curious and pretty " — a distinction with a difference. The Trillium may be raised from seed — a much more tedious process than obtaining plants from the woods. It likes rich, deep leaf-soil and shade, requiring at least two years to become thoroughly established. Where T. grandiflcr- rum is well grown, it often attains a height of nearly two feet. Not the least charm of this variety is its change to a soft rose-color — revers- ing the order of numerous flowers when they begin to fade. Indeed, variety and change of color in individual species is a characteristic of numerous spring flowers. If the majority of our native violets have little odor, many of the very abundant species possess at least a faint scent, just enough to suggest an odor. The large-leaved Viola cucullata, and many of the tiny-flowered species, belong to this class. The bird's-foot violet ( V. pedatd) is less common than we would wish, more especially its variety bicolor, both species and variety having a rich, pansy-like fragrance, and velvety, pansy- like petals. I do not think Bryant open to criticism for 66 2FDe Garten's S>to*£. ascribing fragrance to his yellow violet, blos- soming Beside the snow-bank's edges cold. The Violas are so associated with odor that it is difficult to think of any as entirely scentless. From the hosts of blue, purple, lavender, yellow, and white species that carpet the ground, and which, except the white blanda, are usually con- sidered odorless, there certainly does arise a per- ceptible fragrance, perhaps best described by Bryant as a "faint perfume." Lorenzo de' Medici, a distinguished gardener and floricultur- ist himself, tells us in sonnet-form how the vio- let came blue. Originally white, Venus, seeking Adonis in the woods where it grew, stepped upon a thorn, which, piercing her foot, caused the purple drops to fall upon the flowers — Tingeing the luster of their native hue. Shakespeare's violet was V. odorata, com- mon in Europe and in many portions of Great Britain. " Viola odorata flowers all winter, but chiefly in March ; the typical color is a deep purple-blue," Rev. Wolley Dod, of Cheshire, writes me ; " it is not unlike indigo-dye, but in gardens there is every shade, down to pure white, the latter being, I think, the sweetest of all." The passage in which the violet figures fffee Sprfttfl C^flU jflotoers. 67 most conspicuously, most beautifully, in litera- ture, is too well known to be repeated. We can readily comprehend the comparison to Cytherea's breath ; but the reference to color — if reference to color was really intended — is less apparent on close analysis. Why, in the first place, should the lids of the goddess be singled out rather than the orbs themselves, which Shakespeare might have stamped indelibly a violet-blue ? Un- fortunately, we have no data to fix the precise hue of Juno's eyelids, but we would naturally presuppose them to be dark. The old French abbe-philosopher, Brantome, who, it must be conceded, is excellent if somewhat plain-spoken authority on all that appertains to the charms of lovely woman, specifies, in the " Vies des Dames Galantes," at the conclusion of his second dis- course, " De la Veue en Amour," that, among the thirty essentials which go to compose a su- premely beautiful woman, there must of neces- sity be three black (trots chases noires) — the eyes, the eyebrows, and the eyelids : Trot's choses blanches: la peau, les dents et les mains. Trots noires : les yeux, les sourcils et les paupieres. Trot's rouges : les levres, les joues et les ongles. Trots tongues : le corps, les cheveux et les mains. . Trots courtes : les dents, les oreilles et les pieds 68 JJTlje ffiartien's Trots larges : le sein, le front et 1'entre-sourcil. Trots estroites : la bouche, la ceinture et 1'entree du pied. Trots grosses: le bras, la cuisse et le gros de la jambe. Trots deliees : les doigts, les cheveux et les levres. Trots petttes : les tetins, le nez et la teste. Sont trente en tout. Dark eyelids— a dark purple, rarely the typical violet hue — are a well-known mark of feminine beauty. Cleopatra's eyes must have flashed over them ; and we know the fair Georgians of the East, who do not come by them naturally, use k'hol to produce the languorous charm they are supposed to impart. Still, this does not satisfactorily explain the Shakespearean analogy — Violets dim, but sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes. To carry out the comparison of the poet, who distinctly qualifies the color as "dim," Bran- tome's beauty-mark will scarcely apply in its literal sense. Possible allusion to fragrance is out of the question ; it must, then, refer to some other sense— either to that of sight or feeling — the term sweeter being employed for lovely, or to denote softness to the touch. Let us, there- foj-e, look deeper into the eye of woman. A kiss upon the eyelids— and for this we do not require STfje Sprfnjj 88fflti jflotoers. 69 Gallic authority — is pronounced one of the sweet- est things of life. This theory, then, may fur- nish the key to the passage ; it is to the qualifi- cation " sweeter," in the sense of softer, not to the color-definition, that we must seek for its intended significance. On the other hand, if im- petuous Jove kissed Juno, as there is every rea- son to suppose he did, we must conclude that he preferred roses to violets, and kissed her on the mouth, and not on the eyelids. Clearly, this is a subtle ruse of Shakespeare, all the more abstruse from its lovely imagery, and is only another case of " The Lady or the Tiger." Passing from the " Winter's Tale " to the " Country Churchyard," the verse printed in two editions of Gray, and then expunged from the " Elegy," presents itself : There scattered oft, the earliest of the year, By hands unseen, are showers of violets found ; The redbreast loves to build and warble here, And little footsteps lightly print the ground. Why Gray should have canceled this exquisite stanza is inconceivable. It is the relief, the very flower of the ode — the one expression of loving- kindness and human sympathy to diffuse warmth and fragrance over the tomb. Finally, before taking leave of the violet, I wonder if a resemblance of two poems, to which 70 2Tt)e Barton's Sbtorj. the spring flower's fragrance clings, has been noticed? I refer to Collins's ode "On Fidele supposed to be Dead," and Oliver Wendell Holmes's verses " Under the Violets." Both are pervaded by a pathos equally tender, the meter being alike, except the added fifth line of the latter. Though a similarity will be observed, consisting rather in meter, pathos, and sentiment than in any direct expression, it is not difficult to pronounce upon the comparative merits of the two poems. Viewed by posterity, assuredly Holmes's will be regarded as the richer, the more finished ode : To fair Fidele's grassy tomb Soft maids and village hinds shall bring Each opening sweet of earliest bloom, And rifle all the breathing spring. The redbreast oft at evening hours Shall kindly lend his little aid, With hoary moss, and gathered flowers, To deck the ground where thou art laid. COLLINS. For her the morning choir shall sing Its matins from the branches high, And every minstrel-voice of spring That trills beneath the April sky, Shall greet her with its earliest cry. 71 At last the rootlets of the trees Shall find the prison where she lies, And bear the buried dust they seize In leaves and blossoms to the skies ; So may the soul that warmed it rise. HOLMES. While the violets are yet in the hey-day of their beauty, there is no lack of other vernal flowers. The adder's-tongue (Erythrom'um Americanuni), almost first to dart its sharp purple spathe through the ground, appears in legions. The warmth has brought out the brown spots upon the now clouded gray leaves. Presently will appear its nodding, tulip-scented yellow blossom, revolute in the sunshine. Sin- gularly, the adder's-tongue has its two leaves of equal length, but one almost double the width of the other. I do not find this dog-tooth violet a satisfactory subject to naturalize ; it has a rag- ged look out of its native quarters, and even there it is not always as free-flowering as we would wish. The robust variety, E. grandiflorum, and the large, white form, E, giganteum, from the Rocky Mountains, are far more beautiful. A variety named E. Hendersonii, with lilac flqw- ers and a central purple blotch, edged with yel- low, discovered very recently in Oregon, is said to be the finest of the genus. 72 B!i)e ffiarten's Storj. Little later than the adder's-tongue comes the lung-wort (Mertensia Virginica), pretty in the blue and lilac shades of its drooping flowers, and almost equally beautiful in the rich, dark purple of the early leaves. The large blue flag (Iris versicolor), an inhabitant of wet places in woods, meadows, and along streams, is a hand- some subject for naturalizing where it can ob- tain the necessary moisture. Soon the little Dutchman's breeches (Dicentra cucularia) will disclose its curious spurred flower, and the columbine (Aquilegia Canadensis) plume the rocks and enliven the dry places with its pendu- lous scarlet-yellow blossoms. The wild crane's- bill (Geranium maculatutn) is usually found with the columbine, both being fond of places where the Hepatica has preceded them. Jack-in-the-pulpit (Arisama triphylluiri) I regard as the coarsest of the aroids, not fit to associate with refined flowers ; it looks more like a snake than a flower. The name— Jack-in-the- pulpit — sounds well, and doubtless has helped it to retain popular favor. Female botanizing classes pounce upon it as they would upon a pious young clergyman. But it is an arrant pre- tender, and should be called by its proper name, " Indian turnip," which befits it well. Let it pass for what it is worth, and pose not as a 2Tl)e Sprfnjj fSfflti JFlotoers. 73 flower but as a carminative — its only virtue. " Parson-in-the-pulpit " they call the wild Arum in Great Britain. At Mentone, on the Riviera, the flowers of one of the aroids {Arum arisa- rum) are termed Capuccim', in allusion to the brown-cowled brethren of a neighboring cloister. The bell-wort {Uvularia grandiflora), al- though far from being a monstrosity, is another plant that makes the most of its name. Un- attractive, it is not hideous ; neither is it brazen, like the Indian turnip. Instead of thrusting itself forward and demanding attention, it is rather graceful, hanging its head as if conscious of its dingy yellow. Its smaller sister, the dark, sessile-leaved bell-wort, is much prettier. On account of its creeping, deep-rooting rhizome, it should be avoided in the rock-garden, where it soon becomes troublesome. In woods and on shaded hill-sides the rue anemone ( Thalictrum anemonoides) is conspic- uous— a dainty plant, with delicate foliage, and graceful white flowers assuming a blush tinge in some localities. It increases under culture, thriving both in shade and sunshine. A double form, which is in cultivation, is said to be even preferable to the common variety. Now the. shad-blow (Amelanchter Canaden- sts) has lighted its chandeliers and silvered the 7 74 We Barton's edges of the woods. It has seemingly a wild grace of its own, being seldom equally branched on all sides, but leaning its feathery sprays far over the woodland's edge. This is the case only where it is crowded ; for isolated trees, in nature or under cultivation, do not possess this habit, one of its charms in the woods. I have always envied those who can enjoy the white alder, or sweet pepper-bush (Clethra alnifolia), whose midsummer fragrance hangs like incense over the thickets where it grows. In August I should be willing to exchange it for the Amclanchier, only to regret it in May. The shad-blow has scarcely vanished ere the dogwood (Cornus flo- rida) succeeds it as torch-bearer. A very much larger white flower, or, strictly speaking, invo- lucre, it is scarcely more brilliant from a dis- tance. It is far more distinct on close approach, and one would have to think twice to decide to which the preference should be accorded. I love the shad-blow, because it is first to appear ; and the dogwood, not only for its beautiful in- florescence, but for its brilliant red berries and glorious autumnal hues. The dogwood is still in majestic bloom when the wild thorns add their tribute to the flowering pageant. Perhaps the thorn seems the showiest of the three, because it so often occurs as an ffjje .Sprfnjj g&riTi JHotoers. 75 isolated specimen. It has a pleasant way of surprising one, peering at you over precipitous banks, suddenly springing from some lonely hol- low, or startling you by its snowy whiteness on some meadow or pasture. Have you wondered at the symmetry of many of these patriarchal pasture thorns? — the cattle have manipulated the pruning-shears. I think a gnarled old thorn, standing sentinel over a hill-pasture, the most picturesque of trees. For a century, perhaps, it has buffeted the wintry blasts, and escaped the shafts of the lightning, still to simulate perpet- ual youth in its perpetual bloom. The ground around it has been worn and trodden by count- less hoofs ; and on sweltering midsummer days the cattle ruminate, and lash their tails, beneath its woof of shade. It is the next thing to the shaded stream with white water-lily cups to keep it cool. You look for the shad-blow with the snowy drifts of the Trillium and the running yellow flames of the marsh-marigold (Caltha palus- tris), that Shines like fire in swamps and hollows gray. Hamerton calls the leaves of the water-ranun- culus " the most beautiful of all greens in the world." Strange that he should have excluded 76 2T!)e ffiartoett's the marsh-marigold, than whose glossy foliage nothing could be a lovelier, livelier green ! A " gaY> glabrous green, with glazed and brilliant yellow flowers," the publication that reviled the Trillium describes it very prettily and correctly. The Caltha is common to France also, and a Frenchman can always paint a French flower artistically, whether a wildling or a duplicate new rose. There exists a double variety, and also a white Caltha, a Californian species. The water-ranunculus) R. aquatilis) is a common American plant. It grows submerged, and floats a shabby little white flower on the surface of the water. Concerning the color of its foliage, which Hamerton extols, a botanical friend suggests that artists are apt to be enthusiastic about tri- fling differences which ordinary mortals do not notice. Of the tenants of the brooks and streams, the greens of the common marsh or water cress can scarcely be exceeded in beauty when sway- ing with every motion of the current. Do not imagine, because the Caltha grows so abundant- ly in the wet places, that it is easily cultivated, unless you possess the luxury of a bog-garden or a running stream for it to wade in, when you may naturalize it to your heart's content. One always wishes to transplant these water-loving flowers, they look so cool and seem to grow so Eije Sjitfnfi Jimi) jFlotoers. 77 easily. But they are born thirsty, and soon pine without their liquid nourishment. It will not suffice to give them a sponge-bath ; they de- mand the bath-tub, and only luxuriate where their roots are forever drinking the moisture. If you have a sharp eye and are acquainted with its haunts, you will see the large leaves of Orchis spectabilis, earliest of its family, pushing up to join the spring-tide pageant. The dwarf cornel has begun to prepare for its chase with the twin-flower and Vaccinium over the pros- trate logs ; while the bladder-fern and polypody crowd the stumps and bowlders, and the little Cystopteris is fast uncurling its interrogation- points. One of our most beautiful wild flowers is the little fringed Polygala (Polygala paucif olid), its refined rose-red or purple flowers resembling a small sweet-pea. It rises from long, white sub- terranean runners, rambling over shady hill-sides with the goldthread and star-flower, and occa- sionally the fragile little oak-fern. Is there any blossom poised quite so airily above its whorl of lanceolate leaves as the star-flower; and could there be anything fresher than the dainty, shin- ing foliage of the goldthread, that threads its leagues and leagues of golden runners through the cool, shadowy places of the woods ? All 78 ffifte eSfarten's e ffiartocn's Storjj. ties umbelltcata, aurantiaca, and others ; and also numerous lovely flesh-colored kinds. The double-flowering white Japanese peaches have appeared with Spirceas Thunbergit and prunifolia. It is not because its blossom is whiter than the Spiraas, but because it so re- sembles the great flakes of the last flurry of snow, that the white peach seems the whitest of all flowering shrubs. The variety versicolor plena surprises one by its strange freak of pro- ducing variously white, red, and variegated flow- ers on the tree at the same time. It is nothing new to advise planting white-flowering trees and shrubs, with evergreens for a background ; nev- ertheless, it is good advice always worth repeat- ing. The rose and red flowering peaches are like- wise highly ornamental, and all the double-flow- ering cherries, notably the double white, may be placed in the same class. Most of the flower- ing crabs are beautiful. The blossom of the fragrant garland-flowering crab (Pyrus malus coronaria odorata) is not nearly as big as its name might imply, being a modest blush-flower borne in clusters, with the perfume of sweet vio- lets. But while admiring this and many other ornamental flowering trees, let us not overlook the glorious inflorescence of the apple itself, a Daffotrfls fccgfn to peer. 87 flower as tender in coloring and delicate in fra- grance as the rarest exotic. " A rose when it blooms, the apple is a rose when it ripens," says John Burroughs, who has said about all that can be said on the apple in his own inimitable way. What a gardener he would have made had he followed Loudon as closely as he has Audu- bon ! To properly enjoy Burroughs, he should be read in the author's pocket edition, pub- lished by David Douglas, Edinburgh. The burly, brown-cloth American volumes are too coarse a casket for the jewels they enshrine. The only possible objection to his locusts and wild honey is that they are sometimes too highly flavored with thyme from Mount Whitman. The yellow-flowering or Missouri currant is in bloom. It deserves to be cultivated, if only for its odor. A shrub will scent a garden, and a bunch of it a hall ; and its bouquet is as spicy as that of the yellow St. PeVay wine, which I fancy it resembles, the favorite of Dumas ptre. The bees crowd around its yellow blossoms, and its honey should be worth its apothecary-weight in gold. Herrick's Julia was born too soon. She missed Horsfieldi and many hundred others among the beautiful new English daffodils. But how much time she would have required ©fartoen's . to select a corsage-bouquet from the infinite number of nineteenth-century varieties, each one more bewitching than the other! \ find three hundred kinds in Barr's catalogue alone, with scores of undiscovered ones running wild through the Pyrenees, and who knows how many more new hybrids to be heard from ? Parkinson and Hale would have been beside themselves at the multitudinous forms and varieties. The daf- fodil is a flower for every one, and no spring garden is a garden in the full sense of the word without the grace and gayety it lends. Orchids are very well, yet they never seem to me to be a flower to excite special envy; we know they are beyond the reach of the masses, and that only a millionaire can grow them. Not so with the daffodil, which every one can enjoy in mod- eration, though a fine collection may be made a very expensive luxury as flowers go.* Of all floral catalogues, a daffodil catalogue is the most exquisitely tantalizing. The further you read, the deeper the gold ; and you are even met with Apples of gold in pictures of silver. * The term daffodil I have used in its general sense. Specifically speaking, in many cases the term Narcissus would naturally be employed. Wen DaffoUUs bttfn to jjeer. 89 Daffodils running the entire gamut from yellow to white. Daffadillies with trumpets flanged, expanded, gashed, lobed. serrated, and recurved. Daffadowndillies with perianths twisted, dog- eared, stellated, reflexed, imbricated, channeled, and hooded. Then the multitudinous divisions and classes. Hoop-petticoat daffodils, single and dwarf trumpets, bicolor and shortened bicolor trumpets, white trumpeters, coffee-cups, tea- cups and tea-saucers, musk-scented and Eitcha- n's daffodils, jonquil-scented and rush-leaved, goblet-shaped daffodils, polyanthus or tazetta, early and late poet's daffodils, jonquils, double daffodils, and how many more of the gilded host To add to golden numbers golden numbers ! Lilies are tempting enough in the catalogues. But the lists finally come to an end, while the varieties of the daffodil are inexhaustible. The names, English and Latin, are so tempting, too, though these are nothing compared to the de- scriptions. To catch the daffodil-fever severely means either to break the tenth commandment or to be guilty of ruthless extravagance. You know there are swarms of varieties that will not succeed ; but how are you to single them out without trying them ? How artistically, how artfully devised some of the monographs are! 8 90 ?Ft)e Sulphur hoop-petticoat daffodil (Narcissus cor- bularia citrina), for instance — as if the name were not enough to sell it — bears this descrip- tion : " It is a bold and shapely flower of a soft sulphur tint, ' the color having a luminous qual- ity, the flower being like a little lamp of pale-yel- low light.' " Observe that two modern Parkin- sons are called upon to describe it, so that, if one fails to hook the reader, the other will be sure to land him. William Baylor Hartland, of Cork, Ireland, should be regarded as Herrick's and Words- worth's successor. His illustrated '"Original' Little Book of Daffodils" is a very epithala- mium of the flower of the poets. If we only had his climate and the Gulf Stream to help us raise his Narcissi! Like most flowers, the daf- fodil is thankful for careful culture. It dislikes manure, preferring good loam and a liberal sprinkling of sand. Climate, however, is every- thing with it. It likes to usher in the season gradually, not hurry it as our spring wild flow- ers do. Mild winters, gradual warmth, and abundance of moisture during the early season suit it best. For many kinds our springs are too sudden, and the transition from frozen ground to almost tropical suns is too rapid. In England, from February, when daffodils begin to flower, Baffofcfls fcegfn to peer. 91 until May, the climate hesitates between winter and spring, and this is what daffodils seem to like. Nevertheless, even there some of the large trumpets go off with a kind of blight in masses after bad seasons. The flowering of the follow- ing year so depends upon the full development of the leaves that, if the weather suddenly be- comes blazing and burns up the foliage, degen- eracy is sure to result. To the labors of the late Edward Leeds and William Backhouse we are indebted for many of the finest hybrid forms. Leeds was the prince of hybridizers, and was followed by Backhouse, who raised empress and emperor. Many of the hybrid incomparabilis, however, are so similar in form and coloring as to be perplexing and to uselessly extend the list of varieties. Of all these hybrids the Nelsoni are the finest and most dis- tinct, with broad, snow-white perianths, and yel- low cups usually suffused with orange on first opening. I was about to pass by the Barri ya- rieties. But I find B. conspicuus, which has just opened, is almost another bicolor poettcus, also somewhat resembling one of the finest Leedsi forms, aurco tinctus. Since writing the above, I find the reverse opinion maintained by Mr. Burbidge, one of the best authorities on Narcissi. " As a grower of 92 5Tf)e e&ar'oeit's Stor-j?. nearly six hundred forms in a public garden," he says, " I know something of the variability of daffodils, and also of the taste of those who see them. Often and again will one visitor condemn a particular form which the very next will stop to admire. Some will even tell you that there is none or but little difference between John Hors- field and empress ; whereas the differences are very marked in size, height, color of trumpet and of foliage, and in the date of blossoming. Taste is a shifting index, and there is room for all the varieties we now possess and more." Mr. Bur- bidge also imparts the information that those Narcissi possessing thick, fleshy, prong- like roots will grow anywhere, even in manured soils ; but those having thin, short bunches of fine, wiry fibers will not do so, and must be grown in sand or gravel and pure fresh meadow-loam only. Hybrids in the genus Narcissus are very readily made, and undoubtedly any species of the genus, under favorable conditions, will form a hybrid with any other species of it ; and sev- eral of these kinds which are considered by bot- anists as species, seem to be hybrids; that is, they can be imitated by crossing two other spe- cies of the genus. The best-known instance of this is the so-called species Narcissus incom- parabilis. A cross between N. pseudo-narcts- CZF&cn Daffototls befltn to peer. 93 szts and N. poeticus produces in some instances a daffodil which can not be distinguished from this ; but the same cross may also produce re- sults varying in the degree of each parent they contain, varying in the color, size of trumpet, and other particulars. These varieties are found wild on European mountains at elevations where N. poeticus and N. pseudo-narcissus flower si- multaneously with the melting of the snow. It is this cross, made in gardens, that has produced all the Leeds hybrids. As for increase, some of the mcomparabilis sorts multiply rapidly. Gen- erally, orange Phoenix increases rapidly, but sul- phur Phoenix never increases at all. The trum- pets increase very irregularly ; with me, obvalla- ris and the common spurius are perhaps the best growers of this section. Among the bicolor trumpeters Horsfieldi and empress are incomparably king and queen. I confess I can perceive little difference between them aside from the foliage, except that the lat- ter is a few days later to flower, and its trumpet stands out less boldly. Each exhales a rich magnolia-like odor ; each flutters its pure white perianth and great golden corona over the luxu- riant green foliage like some gorgeous butterfly, rather than a perfumed flower. Empress in- creases far more slowly than HorsfieldL Its 94 SH)e CKartJtn's Storn. favorites claim for the former that it is better • " set up," the perianth having more substance and the flower lasting longer. The marked difference of the flowering period of these two and many other sorts is hardly ap- parent with us. Hot weather follows our cold weather so rapidly, that we almost lose sight of this distinction, and a great majority of the daffodils appear in blossom at nearly the same time. Emperor is certainly a grand variety, but infinitely larger in the English illustrations than in the American soil. Sir Watkin is scarcely as big as his name or his price would lead one to suppose. Nevertheless, he is assuredly the largest of the flat chalice-flowers or tea-cup section, and keeps on increasing from year to year. We must not expect to raise daffodils two to three feet high, as they can and do in England and Ire- land, or grow them with trumpets large enough to serve the angel Gabriel. Maximus (Kale's vase of beaten gold) I have been unable to manage. Neither can I grow the double poeticus successfully, after re- peated trials with bulbs sent from England and Holland and procured here. It throws up strong flower-stalks, but they invariably come blind. I shall banish it to some neglected corner, where it will probably take better care of itself. Ard- Dnffcrtnls btflfn to peer. 95 Righ, nobtlis, princeps, and a form of single Telamonius are all distinct and desirable forms. In a great vaseful of daffodils before me, cernuus, the drooping white Narcissus, is con- spicuous, nodding lithely from its fluted stalk. Its sulphur perianth changing to white, and pale primrose tube, are heightened in their refined effect by its pendulous habit. It is a Spanish flower, and, as it can not wear a mantilla, it co- quettishly hangs its lovely head. Smaller, but also beautiful, is Circe, one of the Leeds forms of the tea-cup section, with white perianth seg- ments, and a cup changing from canary to white. The white daffodils generally possess a superior air of good breeding ; they always seem dressed for the drawing-room. The yellow ones, even where they are superlatively handsome, look as if they preferred a romp or a game of tennis. The Pyrenean pallidus prcecox is invariably the first daffodil in the garden, closely succeeded by the distinct obvallaris or Tenby ; the pale straw-color and cernuous habit of the one con- trasting strongly with the vivid gold and large, wide-mouthed crown of the other. I have yet to see the daffodil which can compare with the intensity of its gold. " The causes of the singu- lar and almost blinding intensity of the color," Hamerton explains from a painter's standpoint, g6 £i)e ffiartoen's Storw. " are a gradation from semi-transparent outward petals, which are positively greenish in them- selves, and still more by transparence owing to 'green leaves around, to the depth of yellow in the womb of the flowers, where green influences are excluded, but yellow ones multiplied by the number of the petals. So in the heart the color is an intense orange cadmium, not dark, but most intense— a color that we remember all the year round." Hamerton says this in reference to Wordsworth's dance of the daffodils, and thus had pseudo-narcissus, or the common Lent lily, in mind, which has a pale perianth and rich yel- low trumpet, and which is extremely difficult to cultivate in its native country. Cynosure, another of the Leedsti hybrids, and Mary Anderson, single of the familiar orange Phoenix, are both strikingly beautiful. The for- mer has a large primrose perianth changing to white, and an orange -scarlet cup ; the latter, a silver perianth and a cup of lively orange- scarlet. What with most flowers deteriorates from their beauty only increases the attractiveness of many of the daffodils, the fading perianth often adding a chastened beauty to the passing flower. Would that our pretty wives and sweethearts could all grow old so charmingly, or that woman JDaffotifls btjjfn to peer. 97 might learn from the daffodil the art of always looking lovely things ! The big trumpeters and chalice-flowers are not yet over before the poeticus and polyanthus groups and the jonquils appear. How cool the snow-white corolla of single poettcus, and how warm the rim of its dainty cup ! And who that has ever scented it can forget its delicious aro- ma ? The varieties of poettcus are many ; the garden varieties, recurvus, patellaris, and orna- tus, being finer than those collected wild. All of the polyanthus, or tazettas, are likewise delight- fully odorous. The latter form pushes up so strongly in the fall, however, that it is apt to be injured by frost, and therefore the bulbs should be lifted after flowering and stored until late autumn. The big and little jonquils — and even here the variety is great — concentrate more odor in their little cups than any other form of narcis- sus. Of the double daffodils, poeticus plenus is too well known to be specified. With me, as has been previously observed, most of the buds come blind, the flowers forming inside the spathe, which becomes hermetically sealed, and soon dries up and dies. In England, where this species flowered very poorly the past season, a friend writes me that the same conditions pre- vailed, failure being attributed to the drought 98 fflie (Karen's and cold winds of February and March, and something " going wrong " with it in May. The common double yellow is coarse compared with either orange or sulphur Phoenix. I can grow neither of these successfully. The latter runs out after the first year; the former gradually turns green — jealous, no doubt, of its thriving sisters in my neighbor's garden. The hoop-petticoat narcissus of southern Europe I have yet to try out of doors, well pro- tected in winter. It is of all the Narcissi the most individual, resembling an evening primrose enlarged and much lengthened. The depth at which daffodils and lilies should be planted is a disputed question. In light soils it is well to err in planting too deep rather than too shallow; in stiff soils they should not be planted at all. Very many of the daffodils re- quire to be placed in new soil every year or two ; weak foliage and decreasing flowers indicate that they require a change. Transplanting, in either case, should be effected so soon as the leaves and stalks have died down, during the short space the bulbs are at rest. To secure the finest flowers, they should be cut in the full-bud stage, and allowed to expand in water within doors. In England daffodils are taken up in July every year. James Walker, the largest grower $8?f)en Daffotofls bcgfn to peer. 99 near London, plants the bulbs in land that was manured for peas or early potatoes ; a similar plan being adopted by the Dutch growers in their bulb-culture. Sea-sand is very genial to daffodils ; the Scilly Islands soil consists of but little else. Constant replanting in deep, pure soil is the plan in England now, although five years ago growers were all manuring the soil for them. In Holland, all bulbs are lifted once a year. Fine crocuses, hyacinths, and tulips do not grow themselves. The soil in Holland is dark sea-sand or alluvium. Cow-manure is largely used for ordinary farm-crops, and after these have sweetened the soil it is dug over, two to four feet deep, and the bulbs are plant- ed. Deep culture prevents their suffering from drought, and gives a clean, round bulb. To the Dutch should be awarded the prize for perfect- ing the bunch-flowering section, as to the Eng- lish belongs the olive-crown for developing the grand trumpeters and the incomparabilis sec- tion. For house-culture some of the tazettas are very effective, grown in the Chinese fashion, in water. Indeed, many of the Narcissi, which force readily, may be grown in this manner. In China N. tazetta is a favorite flower. The cus- tom there is to place the bulbs in bowls of water '0 Storj. with pebbles, the latter being employed for the roots to adhere to. But to produce Chinese effects we must have the Chinese narcissus, a splendid species, with immense, vigorous bulbs. The bulbs should be started in their receptacle with water about five weeks before they are wanted to flower, and placed in the dark until root-growth is made. They. may then be moved to a sunny window, requiring no further care beyond keeping up the supply of water. They may even be grown in full light from the start. The Chinese tazetta, thus treated, throws up huge leaves, and stiff flower-stems two feet or more in height. There are two varieties, with single and double flowers, somewhat resembling in individual flowers Grand Primo and the double Roman tazetta, though of less substance and less highly perfumed. Many of the lovely English hybrids we can not grow with success, owing to our rigorous climate. They are inversely like some of our wild flowers in England, which miss the frost and long season of rest, as some of the daffodils with us lack the genial climate they are accus- tomed to. Still, if many varieties refuse to be- come acclimated, there are very many others that are readily grown. Let us. then, follow the admirable precept of Delille : Daffotofls begin to peer. 101 Ce que votre terrain adopte avec plaisir, Sachez le reconnoitre, osez-vous en saisir. I have been enjoying Delille in the old edition of eighteen volumes, copiously illustrated with quaint woodcuts. I found it in an old book- stall, and obtained it for a song. No wonder the late A. J, Downing was so fond of " Les Jardins," a French Georgic with nineteenth-cent- ury improvements ! Sir Theodore Martin ought to do with this and " The Man of the Fields " what he has done with Horace and Heine ; they are books that every gardener and lover of nature should be able to enjoy. So many desirable forms of Narcissi may be had so cheaply, that almost any one can afford to grow some of the capricious varieties as bien- nials. With proper selection and intelligent cul- tivation, we may have in the daffodil a treasure- house of beauty, and with this flower alone render any garden a field of the cloth of gold ftock-Owrben. Pleasures which nowhere else were to be found, And all Elysium in a plot of ground. DRYDEN. Imitez ce grand art, et des plants de'licats Nuancez le passage a de nouveaux climats. Observez leurs couleurs, leurs formes, leurs penchans, Leurs amours, leurs hymens. L'HOMME DES CHAMPS. V. THE ROCK-GARDEN. HEARD the tremolo of the toads for the first time, April 2oth— later than usual. They are supposed to be silenced thrice by the cold — a rule I have gen- erally found to be true. Though limited in com- pass, the toad possesses a musical voice, and only sounds it in warm weather. The orches- tration of the small frogs, where each one tries to puff himself up as big as an ox, is emphat- ically a vernal tone, but it can not be termed musical. Their comical croakings always re- mind me of the peculiar noise made by boat- builders during the operation of calking. The huge, green bull-frog of the swamps, who is not heard until much later than his smaller brethren, has the merit of a powerful organ not entirely immelodious. In the distance, on hot summer evenings, his grand bassoon blends well with the 9 io6 Etc ©artien's Storj?. lighter and varied instrumentation of the lesser reptilta. His nocturne brings the plash of water and the scent of water-lilies nearer to me. It is a fluviatile expression, the fitting utterance of ponds and swamps. The cicada emphasizes no more tensely the heat of the midsummer noon, than the great batrachian the serenity of the summer night. His voice fits into the landscape like an audible shade — a sonorous emanation of coolness and departed day. The trill of the toad is the prelude to spring, as the cricket's croon is the farewell to summer. How drowsily the chorus floats up from the low- lands— a summons to the early bees and flies to seek the precocious flowers! The blue scillas, the hepaticas, and the cowslips are swarming with the smaller bees and muscce. Where do they come from in such swarms ; and where do they all house themselves when the inevitable change of temperature puts a stop to cross-fer- tilization ? A few warm days have done won- ders toward starting delayed vegetation, each of the spring flowers apparently trying to outstrip the other. The pushing and striving for warmth and sunlight always seem to me among the most marvelous things of nature — the embryo seed, the rising stalk, the unfolding corolla, the perfect flower ! £ocfc=:©fartien. 107 Scilla Siberica is perhaps the best of its class, although the comparatively new Chiono- doxa LucilicE is almost equally desirable for its lovely shade of blue. Of the other squills, the colors of S. btfolia vary much, some being far better than others ; this species also contains a white variety. S. Italica and S. amaena are worthless. The later-flowering Spanish squills are large and coarse, but showy in shrubberies. These are of three colors— blue, white, and pink — sold under three names — campanulata, patula, and nutans. The difference in name does not always insure difference in flower. The best of all, certainly, as regards color, is 5. Sibe- rica. From the chinks of the rocks the hepati- cas glow with all shades of blue, purple, and rose, until they stop at nearly a pure white. The hepatica comes in the category of those flowers which the gardener neatly terms "very thank- ful." If you can not procure it readily from the woods, you should raise it from seed taken pro- miscuously from the different kinds, to procure new colors. It is not strange that the British hold the primrose in such estimation that they have con- secrated to it a " Primrose-Day " — April ipth — the anniversary of the death of Lord Beacons- field, who wore a bunch of primroses in his but- io8 2CI)e ffifarten's .Storj?. ton-hole whenever they were procurable. Hardy and floriferous, it is the richest of early spring flowers : from the palette of tints of the polyan- thus, through the varied hues of the cowslip and common primrose to the "edged" and "pow- dery " Auriculas, the large, purple clusters of the Siberian cortusoides, and the fiery, opening eye of the Himalayan P. rosea. The Himalayan P. denticulata is a fine species, with bright mauve flowers on tall stalks. P. Sikkimensis is probably the most distinct of the Himalayan kinds, with lemon-colored and deliciously-scent- ed trusses borne on lofty scapes. This must be raised from seed in pans or boxes; then, if planted out in shade in early autumn, the plants flower moderately well the following June. The second June they flower still finer, but after that they die, or deteriorate, and have to be replaced by fresh seedlings. It is one of the latest of its family to bloom. Nearly all the many varieties of the Japanese P. Sieboldi are charming, being perfectly hardy, unusually free-flowering, and remarkable for the size of trusses and flowers. A strain of English primrose, called Dean's high-colored hybrids, has produced some most tender and fascinating colors. In many instances of primroses raised from seed, it is puzzling to know just where the poly- 109 anthus begins and the primrose leaves off — they seem to run into one another through hybridiza- tion. Our native primroses number but few spe- cies. P. farinosa, or bird's-eye primrose, also a native of Europe, is found in several localities. P. Mistassinica, a small, rose-colored species, rarely seen under cultivation, occurs in several Northern and Eastern States. The finest of in- digenous species is P. Parryz, common in Ne- vada, the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, and the Uintahs, at an altitude of six thousand to ten thousand feet. This flowers from July to Sep- tember, bearing fine rose-colored blossoms with yellow eyes, on tall stalks — a distinct and hand- some hardy species. One should have a great bank of primroses placed in partial shade, to enjoy their fragrance and color en masse. And they should be raised from seed at least every other year, to keep up a supply of young plants, and to distribute among one's friends. But their most appropriate place is the Alpine garden, where they form dense cushions of bloom, and, with the daffodils, form a garden in themselves. In English poetry the primrose shares an equal place with the violet and daffodil. It is referred to as the " lady of the springe," " win- ter's joyous epitaph," " merry spring-time's har- binger," "sweet infanta of the year," "the S!f)e eSartren's Storn. welcome news of sweet, returning spring," " the precious key of spring " ; and most conspicuous- ly by Shakespeare, who associates it with the daffodil and violet in the flowers let fall from Dis's wagon. Here, where it is comparatively scarce under cultivation, its beauties have only been sparingly sung by the poets, who neverthe- less freely voice the praises of the snow-drop, crocus, and daffodil. Among our native flowers, the arbutus, violet, and gentian are freely singled out by the poets, and the azalea, bloodroot, he- patica, and cardinal-flower all come for their share of appreciation. I do not recall any poem on the spring beauty, the meadow-rue, the rue- anemone, or the moss-pink. Lowell is poet- laureate of the dandelion, and Emerson the bard of the rhodora. The wind-flower, or anemone, a well-known flower in American verse, would become a favorite, if only from Whittier's breezy lines : And violets and wind-flowers sway Against the throbbing heart of May. Of all forms of cultivating flowers, rock-gar- dening is the most fascinating. Within a small space you may grow innumerable dainty plants, which would be swallowed up or would not thrive in the border— delicate Alpines, little creeping vines, cool mosses, rare orchids, and 2T1)c much of the minute and charming flora of the woods and mountains. Over this rock may trail the fragrant sprays of the twin-flower ; here, at the base, a carpet of partridge-vine may be pierced by the wild-wood and meadow-lilies, and there a soldanella or Alpine gentian flash beside the fronds of an English fern. Then, its con- stant variety, and the inconceivable amount of plants it will contain ! And how they develop and thrive among the rocks, where the roots have only to dive down to keep cool ! I speak of the rock-garden as distinguished from the " rockery " — that embellishment to be found in company with the geranium-bed, surrounded by whitewashed stones; and iron stags or grey- hounds standing guard over the growth of a hop- vine up a mutilated Norway spruce. With the " rockery " we are all familiar— that nightmare of bowlders, that earthquake of stones dumped out on to the hottest portion of the lawn, with a few spadefuls of soil scattered among them. Into this scant pasturage, where even a burdock would cry out for mercy, dainty plants are turned to graze. Fancy the rude shock to a glacier- pink or a Swiss harebell ! The bowlder with a " pocket " is always at a premium, and within this parched receptacle, where nothing but Se- dum acre or the common saxifrage could sub- barton's Stotj. sist, is placed a delicate Alpine. Of course, this is merely the death-warrant of the subject. Some tough and weedy species, that thrive on neglect, may survive the broiling ordeal. Usu- ally only the rocks and Sedums remain, and the cultivation of Alpines is given up in disgust. To grow Alpine plants successfully, it is necessary to understand the object of the rock- garden — its special adaptation to a very large class of beautiful plants, which find in it the root-moisture and natural surroundings they re- quire. Many of these are too minute, many too fastidious, to be grown in any other way. The novelty, the delightful variety and charm which the rock-garden lends to the cultivation of flow- ers can scarcely be overestimated. From the very requirements of most Alpine plants, which love to run deeply into the soil in search of moisture, it is self-evident that there should be no unfilled spaces left between the base and sur- face. The rocks should be firmly imbedded in the soil, with sufficient space left between them for root development of the plants. While the hideous chaos of stones of the average " rock- ery " can not be too severely condemned, half- buried bowlders, showing here and there their weather-beaten sides, have a picturesque look, especially when the flowering season is over. 113 The form of the rock-garden will depend largely on the character of the surroundings. Nothing can be more beautiful than a rock-garden at the base of a declivity, with the center, perhaps, forming a natural grotto half smothered with trailers and ferns. A rigid wall of rock will be avoided, while a round or even an oval mound is less pleasing than a form of somewhat irregular outline. Whatever form may be chosen, the rock-work should be constructed with a view of growing Alpine plants, and subordinating geo- logical effects. The soil is a matter of prime importance. Often, " potting-earth," as it is termed, is used, which becomes stiff and cakes badly during hot weather. For the majority of rock-plants a sandy loam proves most suitable. In some por- tions leaf-mold should be freely mixed with the soil, to meet the requirements of certain species ; while peat-loving subjects will naturally be pro- vided with the soil they prefer. A top-dressing of fine old leaf-mold and fresh loam every au- tumn will prove of advantage both in supplying the waste of soil from washings, and in serving as a fertilizer. I do not think the stress laid upon an easterly exposure, in England and on the Continent, applies here. The main points with us are shade and protection from draughts. CSartren's Spring subjects have mostly flowered before the trees are in full leaf ; and, with our blazing sum- mer suns, overshading through foliage will sel- dom occur. A few hours' sunshine during the day is sufficient for most plants which blossom after the latter part of May. The rock-garden is never appropriate in the center of a lawn. It is a dainty form of gardening, which should be enshrined by itself, rather than have its loveli- ness thrust upon one. A rock-garden in a glade of a wood would be charming. This would afford abundant shade and moisture for the shadow - loving plants and diminutive ferns, as well as shelter from rude draughts, notwithstanding the belief, which most of us had when we were children, that it was the trees that made the wind. Wherever it may be situated, it should be readily accessible to the garden-hose. I find a very fine dust-spray, which may be pinned into the ground and shifted from one point to an- other, the best means of watering. A coarse spray washes away the earth and is rude to the flowers. With sufficient moisture in summer and protection during winter, many species which are pronounced not hardy, or not to be acclimated, may be grown successfully. Oak and beech leaves covered lightly with evergreen boughs 115 form the best means of protection. These should not be used until the ground is frozen, or plants may damp off, and mice harbor and cause de- struction under the leaves. Generally speaking, more especially where the space is limited, all plants with running, fast-spreading root-stalks should be avoided. Some of the harebells, for instance, desirable as they otherwise would be, are objectionable on this account. They must be hemmed in or have sufficient space, otherwise they encroach upon and soon smother their delicate neighbors. Some free-seeding plants are also to be guarded against. The Sedum, in many of its forms, is a pest, and with very few exceptions should never be introduced among rare and beautiful plants. I know of a rock-garden, admirably constructed at great cost, which had to be virtually torn apart to get rid of the Sedum. The way really to enjoy the cultivation of Alpine plants is to build a new rock-garden every year, says Rev. Wolley Dod, one of Eng- land's most distinguished plant-culturists and botanists. I have been content with two thus far, and, so great is the enjoyment they afford, I shall supplement them with a fern rock-garden, for the smaller and more delicate ferns. When referring to the toad, I omitted to n6 STIje ©artoen's Storj. state that he is a treasure among flowers. He has a jewel in his tongue as well as his eye, and is better than whale-oil soap as an insect-exter- minator. One would think his unwieldy pres- ence must necessarily be destructive to fragile plants, yet his nocturnal hoppings leave no trace of injury to the most delicate flowers. How many gnats and flies and borers and aphides he snaps up with his sphinx-like tongue during the day, from behind the cool rock where he appears to be dozing, Gilbert White, I believe, has never computed. Richard Jefferies speaks of a straw- berry-patch, the constant resource of all creeping things, where one toad always resided, and often two, and, as you gathered a ripe strawberry, you might catch sight of his black eye watching you take the fruit he had saved for you. The toad takes excellent care of the insects, but, un- fortunately, can not manage the snails, which, unless carefully watched, are sometimes quite destructive to the tender leaves of certain plants. Since the scillas, hepaticas, and spring-beauty have faded, another colony of flowers has ap- peared. The primrose yet remains, with tufts of later-flowering polyanthus and troops of merry -eyed auriculas. Saxtfraga cordifolia and its varieties have thrust out their large trusses of rosy blossoms above their glossy (Etc 3£ocfc=eKarlrcn. 117 leaves ; and S. peltata, the gigantic species of the Sierra Nevadas, has sent up its tall stalks crowned with corymbs of pale-pink flowers, which appear before the huge, shield-like leaves. Two varieties of this species occur, one found at an elevation of six thousand to seven thousand feet, and the other growing in and along streams through the lower and warmer portions of Cali- fornia. The former is evidently much hardier and also more effective, its leaves in its na- tive habitat often attaining a diameter of from three to four feet. S. longifolia, of the Pyre- nees, is difficult to establish, but its near rela- tion, S. cotyledon, which John Addington Sy- monds singles out as the finest of all the plants of the Alps, forms fine rosettes, although it has as yet refused to bloom for me. The jonquils, Trillium grandiflorum, the rue-anemones, the tiarella, the purple and white Phlox subulata, the white Erythronium and Trillium erythrocarpum, are all in holiday at- tire. If we had not Narcissus poeticus, the lat- ter might almost take its place, with its swan- white corolla and pheasant's eye. The rosy umbels of the garland-flower (Daphne cneorunt) exhale such a delicious, penetrating perfume, that one is loath to leave it. Its opening crimson buds always tell me pleasant weather has come n8 to stay. A native of the European mountain- ranges, it is one of the jewels of the rock-garden. But it is apt to prove capricious, and suddenly disappoint one by being winter-killed. Peat is usually prescribed for it. The finest specimens I have ever seen grew almost neglected, in rath- er poor, sandy soil, half-hidden by quack-grass. Gardeners should keep a memorandum, to strike a potful of cuttings every June, taken from as near the root of the plant as possible ; cuttings grow slower, but make better plants than layers. D. rupestris, allied to cneorum, and the white blagyana, I have vainly attempted to establish. The former is undoubtedly hardy with winter protection, a microscopic plant having withstood two winters, and then dying off in summer. The English nursery-men should be prose- cuted for plant-infanticide. The miserable little sticks they send out are most of them too feeble to withstand a short journey, and, even with greenhouse coddling, are too weak and preco- cious to revive. The charges are certainly not at fault, for these would warrant adult plants instead of weaklings. Perhaps this stricture should not be confined to England, but apply equally to the Continent and America. Of plants that grow in low-spreading masses, several species of the Phlox, a genus exclusively 119 North American, are most desirable. P. subu- lata, or moss-pink, the little evergreen with lav- ender-colored flowers, together with the white and many other varieties, are all charming sub- jects. How gracefully, too, the moss-pink drapes a grave, paying its lovely but voiceless tribute to the departed ! P. procumbens succeeds su- bulata, but neither its color nor its habit is as pleasing. P. amcena, with lighter-colored pur- ple flowers and of dwarfer habit, is preferable to the latter. Prettier than either of these is a much larger growing species, P. dtvartcata, whose profusion of bluish or lilac flowers, on stems a foot high, perfume the places where it grows. Under cultivation, it increases rapidly in full sunshine. - Growing near it, in a rich wood, I found, the other day, a colony of Viola rostrata, one of our most beautiful species, rare in this vicinity. It has a long, slender spur, the four lavender petals beautifully stained, and pen- ciled with dark purple. The flower is of good size, and its hue might almost correspond to the " lids of Juno's eyes." The white-umbeled, evergreen, sand-myrtle (Leiophyllum buxifoliuni) is in bloom, togeth- er with the yellow Polygala lutea, and the lit- tle yellow heath-like Hudsonia tomentosa of the New Jersey pine-barrens. There are very many 5Ti)e ffifarticn's Storj?. easier things to grow ; they demand a partially shaded position, and peat freely sprinkled with silver sand. A host of Iceland poppies (Papaver nudt- caule) has been called forth by the spring sun- shine. They are, of all familiar poppyworts, the most beautiful, gracefully poised on tall scapes that nod and toss and flutter with every passing breeze. It is scarcely of these that Burns says : Pleasures are like poppies spread ; You seize the flower, the bloom is shed. Or Keats : At a touch, sweet pleasure melteth, Like to poppies when rain pelteth. They are less fugacious than most of their wide- spread family, and there is always a fresh blos- som to supply the one which has passed. The foliage is more delicate than that of any other species I am acquainted with, unless it be its little relative, the Alpine poppy {P. Alpmum). Meconopsis Cambrica, the Welsh wildling, some- what resembles it, though it is coarser, more fugitive, and not nearly so floriferous. This does best in damp, sandy soil near water. As it is apt to die off the second year on dry soils, it is well to raise it from seed, which germinates readily. Meconopsis Ncpalensis, the finest of the Himalayan species, I have three times failed to raise from seed ; it is said to be a most ca- pricious plant — either the seed is nearly always bad, or conditions are not favorable for germina- tion more than once in two or three years. Like all of its tribe, the Iceland poppy revels in sunshine, thriving best in sandy soil. All its forms are delicately beautiful, the yellow, white, orange-scarlet, and, rarest of all, a color I can only describe by comparing it to the plumage of the scarlet tanager. This is the only one of its species I know of which has a pleasant perfume. It is easily raised, and seed should be sown out of doors in August, or plants left to seed them- selves. Occasionally among seedlings a semi- double form will occur, and also a very beauti- ful dwarf form, more frequently white than yel- low, with short, stiff stems often bearing fifteen to twenty flower-cups within a diameter of five inches. A cream-colored semi-double form, with larger flowers than the type, is also very beauti- ful. I sow seeds of the white and orange-scar- let forms only ; but of the latter the greater part come yellow. Though perfectly hardy, it is well to treat it as an annual, and thus always keep up a good supply of young plants to fill spaces made vacant by the daffodils when they die down, or to group freely in the borders. P, umbrosum, 10 8EJje CGartien's a hardy annual from the Caucasus, is larger, and not quite so neat in habit, yet strikingly beauti- ful with its dark-red petals blotched with black. P. Hookeri is another handsome annual recently introduced, extremely variable in the color of its brilliant flowers. Gentiana acaidis gives us one of the most indelible blues of spring, a lovely, large, urn- shaped blossom clinging closely to the leathery leaves. An Alpine and Pyrenean plant, it is perfectly hardy and not difficult to cultivate. It is larger and more robust than its still pret- tier and near relative, G. verna, which opens its blue stars about a week later. This does best in a slightly shaded and well-drained posi- tion, and when abundantly supplied with water during midsummer. I may call it the sapphire of the rock-garden, as its exquisite blue flower is termed the gem of the mountain- pastures of southern Europe and Asia. Much later to ap- pear is our own fringed gentian (G. crinita), mirroring the blue October skies, and excep- tional for the four fringed lobes of its corolla. G. Andrewsit, also a native, has its deep pur- ple-blue flowers striped within with whitish folds. You are fortunate if you can transplant the fringed gentian successfully ; it is like the ar- butus, and pines away from its home. All the 123 gentians are beautiful and worthy of special culture ; all, however, are difficult to raise from seed. A classic flower, for it occurs in Greece and along the Mediterranean, is the scarlet wind- flower (Anemone fulgens). Its early flowering habit causes it to start so soon that, while un- questionably hardy with protection, it simply throws up its leaves without blossoming. In its own country it comes up in autumn, but the winters are so mild it does not suffer. It should be treated like the tazzetta Narcissus, and its tubers stored until November ; a red wind-flow- er is so unusual a departure from the type that one can afford to bestow upon it special pains. A.pulsatilla, the European pasque-flower, distin- guished for its large, solitary, violet-purple flow- ers, succeeds in well-drained limestone soil. The double of the common native wind-flower (A. nemorosa), discovered a few years since in Con- necticut, is said to be a valuable variety, lasting much longer in bloom than the type. The snow- drop wind-flower (A. sylvestris), of Siberia and central Europe, is a lovely species, bearing me- dium-sized white flowers and blossoming in June, not unlike a small white Japanese anemone. A. palmata, Alpina, and blanda are all tender species, and so difficult to manage in England 124 that it is scarcely worth while to attempt them. The anemone is poetically named from anemos, the wind, on account of the exposed places where it blows. Without doubt Iris reticulata is the most beautiful of its tribe for the Alpine garden. Its early flowering habit, the beauty of its blossom, and pronounced violet odor, all render it excep- tionally valuable. It blossoms well with me the first year, only to serve me like some of the daffodils and auratum lilies the second ; a dif- ferent soil, possibly, might tell a different story. No fault can be found with the common little /. pumila, likewise very early, and a species which increases rapidly. /. crtstata, a very dwarf native species, produces large, handsome lavender flowers, blossoming almost on the ground from its creeping rhizomes. All the Iberis are charming evergreen rock- plants, the coolest-looking of the spreading spring flowers. There can be scarcely anything more beautiful to cushion or overhang a ledge of rock than any of the forms of this hardy mountaineer. The varieties cortfolia and correcufolia should not be confounded, for both are needed ; the latter blossoming when the former has nearly passed. There is a blush-tinge to the large- flowered Gibraltartca, otherwise similar to the Hocfc*©farlien. 125 common sempervtrens, though not so hardy. /. tenoriana, with purplish-white flowers, and /. jncunda, with small pink blossoms, also de- serve a place. Desirable among white flowers is the hardy little Alpine catchfly (jSilene alpes- tris), and the smaller Tunica saxifraga, that blossoms all summer. If you wish sheets of blue in June, Veronica verbenacea should not be overlooked, a pretty lavender-blue, and V. rupestris, a smaller, deeper-colored, and more compact variety. V. pumila is loosely habited and inferior to either of these. The diminutive V. repens is a valuable carpet-plant. It is the first of its tribe to appear, almost smothered with small pale lavender blossoms in early spring. Of native wildlings, false Solomon's -seal (Smilacina bifolid) is easily naturalized in shade. The little yellow -star-grass (Hypoxts erecta) will grow almost anywhere. Among trailing plants proper, there are none which exhale such a flavor of the woods as the twin-flower (Ltnncea borealis), a favorite of Linnaeus, and named in honor of the great botanist. It is not at all difficult to estab- lish, as might be supposed, growing in sun- shine, and luxuriating in light, moist soil and deep shadow. 126 JTJje Garten's The partridge-vine (Mitchella repens) is readily established, and is not over-particular as to a sun-umbrella. The partridge or ruffed grouse are fond of its sweet fruit, and hence the common name. There can be no prettier car- pet-plant ; when well established, it forms a thick mat of dark-green leaves covered with lilac- scented white flowers in June, and studded with brilliant scarlet berries in autumn. It is easily transplanted. Where it can not be had in large clumps, it should be gathered in preference from dry, sunny positions, and planted closely together, with a layer of chopped sphagnum on the ground between and all about it, be- ing careful not to cover it. Where the space is ample, the false miter- wort (Ttarella cor- difolia), also prettily termed foam-flower, may be used to advantage. A trailing plant, it is a vigorous grower, with large, shining, cordate leaves, and graceful racemes of white flowers in May, The common winter-green, like the common polypody, generally prefers nature for a garden- er. Even on dry hummocks where it occurs wild, it draws an element that it does not seem to find with artificial surroundings. I think there is much in the heavy condensation at night in and near woods and streams which explains the 127 deterioration of numerous wild plants under cul- tivation ; it is not always merely a question of soil, shade, or exposure. Many wild trailing plants succeed better when grown in large mass- es, doubtless because they thus retain the moist- ure longer. The winter-green, nevertheless, will do fairly well in shade, tightly packed in a mixt- ure of old leaf-meld and loam. The goldthread (Coptts trifolia) is one of the finest of all small carpet-plants, and is easily naturalized in leaf- mold and partial shade. Vaccinium macrocarpon, the common cran- berry, is a fleet runner over the sphagnum, and bears transplanting even in sandy soil, where it forms a neat carpet, but not nearly so dense or of so thick a pile as the partridge-vine. With the Mitchella, Coptts, and Lt'nnaa very many dainty native wild flowers may be associated, such as false Solomon 's-seal, Pyrola elliptica and rotundifolia, wood-anemones, star-flowers, false violet, star-grass, and others. The little oak-fern and common polypody look pretty springing from the dark undergrowth. But the twin-flower, partridge-vine, and goldthread are so charming themselves that, in some places at least, the carpet should be formed of them alone. Many of our native orchids are among the 128 SCfje ffiarHen's Storj?. most beautiful of plants for the shady portion of the Alpine garden. The showy orchis (Or- chis spectabilis), the earliest of the Orchidacea, thrives under cultivation. The yellow lady's- slippers (Cypripedium pubescens and parviflo- runi) will do in the open border, but they never look appropriate, and the blossoms never attain the size or last as long as they do cultivated in shade. I have found both in nature, however, where the shade had been cut down, with thrifty stalks and well-formed roots. Indeed, the habi- tat of these two lady's-slippers varies extremely, both occurring (the large pubescens particularly) on dry, sandy banks and low, swampy woods ; in marshy places the plants attain a far larger size and remain much longer in blossom. The showy or pink lady's-slipper (C, spectabtle) is likewise easily grown when its natural surround- ings are imitated ; it is the showiest of all ter- restrial orchids, and among the most distinct and beautiful of hardy plants. I find this does better, when transplanted, if the new shoot is cut out of the .old wig of roots below it, the old roots seeming to encumber the plant. C. acaule, the stemless lady's-slipper, is a very handsome variety, erroneously thought to be almost impos- sible to establish. I find its purple flower some- times in dry places, but commonly in damp 129 woods. C. arietinum, the ram's-head lady's- slipper, a rare form, is easily cultivated in moist garden-soil with partial shade. Of the Habenarias, H. fimbriata, the great fringed orchis which, with psychodes, is found in wet, rich leaf-mold, is not difficult to cultivate. They are both of marked beauty, the tall, brill- iant purple spike of the former being a very con- spicuous object in the woods. H. ciliaris, the yellow fringed orchis, is difficult to manage. I have been surprised to be most successful with the most delicate, H. blephariglottis, This is, I think, the loveliest of the Habenarias, attain- ing a height of from one to one and a half feet, with a spike of white-fringed, deliciously odor- ous flowers lasting long in bloom. Its habitat is cool sphagnum swamps, the plants springing from the clear moss, and never being at all con- nected with the soil. The white-fringed orchis should be planted in leaf-mold, with a ball of sphagnum about the roots, in full or nearly en- tire shade. Arethusa bulbosa, also a lover of wet places, and one of our most beautiful spe- cies, may be cultivated with success if good plants are secured to start with. Spiranthes cernua, or ladies-tresses, and S. gracilis, are neither of them difficult to manage in partial shade and sandy loam, and should be cultivated 130 2TI)e ©attien's Storj). for their pretty, late-appearing flowers. Removal of most orchids may be made while the plants are in flower, and thus most easily found, by lifting them with a ball ; great care must be ex- ercised at any period, however, that the fleshy tubers sustain no injury. Of British species O. maculata is the most satisfactory, the others being capricious, or find- ing something unconformable in our climate. The dark-purple blotches on the leaves of mac- ulata are striking ; and while the plant grows less strongly than at home, it nevertheless does well, its flower resembling a smaller fitnbriata, but more variable in its shades. The British marsh orchis (O. latifolia} is one of the finest of the genus, bearing large purplish-pink flowers on a long raceme ; it is always capricious and difficult to manage in its own country. The Spanish Orchis foliosa, which is not unlike latt- folia, has wintered for three seasons with me, though as it does here it is inferior to either of our own fine purple Habenarias. As to orchid culture, very few of the terres- trial species can be grown in sun with that de- gree of success which partial shade will give in skillful hands. The use of carpet-plants is often of benefit to the more delicate species, serving to keep the soil cool, and retaining the moisture 3£ocfc=®;artJen. 131 about them ; a few pieces of stone buried around them will answer a similar purpose. Among suitable rock-plants which should not be forgotten are Adonis vernalis (the grace- ful rock-cress), the finer cinquefoils, many of the Silenes, Saponaria ocymoides, Lotus cornicula- tus, Genista saggitalis, the Dodecatheons, the Alyssums, the Androsaces, the Alpine Dian- thus, and such of the Alpine harebells as do not spread too much at the root. The species and varieties specified in this, and alluded to in other chapters, are a few of many desirable plants suitable for the rock-garden. There are hosts of others I am not familiar with that I have not enumerated ; there are many that have not been alluded to because they are objectionable either on account of creeping root-stalks, bad colors, or other rea- sons; there still remain many tender or capri- cious subjects it is difficult to manage in our trying climate. But each one should try for himself plants which, he thinks desirable, and thus ascertain their adaptability to soil and cli- mate. I am informed^ for instance, that Onos- ma taurica, one of the finest of Alpine plants, that is very difficult to manage in England and that has failed with me, is successfully grown in Boston. I might say the same of many other I32 STtje C&arten's Storj?. subjects that succeed in certain localities and fail in others. Capricious plants, however, should not be given up at the first failure. The old apothegm, " If at first you don't succeed," is especially applicable to many subjects of the garden. Summer flowers. Let us be always out of doors among trees and grass and rain and wind and sun. Let us get out of these in-door, nar- row, modern days, whose twelve hours somehow have become shortened, into the sunlight and the pure wind. A something that the ancients called divine can be found and felt there still. RICHARD JEFFERIES, THE AMATEUR POACHER. VI. THE SUMMER FLOWERS. procession of summer flowers be- gins to form the latter part of May, and by the second week of June is well started on its march. A late or an early spring, a dry or a wet May, makes little differ- ence with the state of vegetation on the first of the summer months. By that time the equilib- rium is always reached, and Nature's balance- wheel is found revolving at its accustomed pace. Not until the advent of summer do the brilliant large flowers appear ; the spring flora is smaller, more delicate, and generally more ephemeral. You must stoop down for the spring flowers ; the summer flowers reach up to you. The procession formed in May and augmented in June moves steadily through July, when wild lilies blaze and tall Habenartas lift their purple spires ; it moves 136 STIje ffiarHen's Storj. onward during August over stubbles gay with vervains and willow-herb, and meadows fragrant with trumpet-weed ; it files more slowly in Sep- tember along streams flaming with cardinal-flow- ers and lanes lighted by golden-rod ; until it halts and breaks ranks in late October, crowned with aster and everlasting, and strewed with painted maple-leaves. Do we half appreciate these sum- mer days ? We long for them in winter, and wish the months were weeks, to bring them nearer to us. Let us enjoy them when they come ; let us get nearer to this joyous life of nature, and join in the procession of the flowers. You would know by the scent of the lilacs that summer was here. How fragrant the cen- ser of June! how profuse with the scent of blossoming vegetation ! — odors not alone from myriads of plants, but breathing from orchards, hedges, and thickets, rising from woods and hill-sides, blown from far meadows and pastures. What an exhalation of millions of opening pet- als, mingled with the scent of green growing things ! It seems as if Nature could not do enough when her appointed time arrives ; as if there were no end to her prodigality of bloom and song and color and sunshine : birds sing- ing amid the orchard-blossoms, bees plunging into the flower-cups, meadows smothered with 2Tt)e Summer JFlotoers. 137 buttercups, swamps golden with marsh-mari- golds, woods aflame with honeysuckles, fields crimson with clover— bird-song, insect-hum, and flower-blossom on every side ! Among the large flowers of the garden, the germanica section of the irises is first to ap- pear. To recommend any special varieties would be superfluous ; they are so numerous, and are nearly all so beautiful. Easily grown, thriving in light soil and sunshine, we rarely see enough of them. This would not be the case if people would take the trouble to divide large plants, and thus not only obtain them more abundantly for another year, but increase the size of the flowers. The great bearded iris is one of the most effective border plants; the cut flowers are also beautiful when arranged with their sword-shaped foliage. The Kcempferi, or Jap- anese section, is advancing, while the bearded iris is in bloom. Of these the varieties and colors are also innumerable ; and, while more rarely seen, it is likewise one of the finest of perennials. Naturally a water-plant, it should receive abundance of moisture to acquire its full development. Where possible, it should be grown as a bog-plant. I should like to see it in company with the royal fern, sunk deeply in the mire. Where the space of the rock-garden 11 138 W&e esartien's Sbtorg. will allow the use of large subjects, the Japa- nese iris may be appropriately employed. This species is so slow to advance, that its fine foli- age retains its freshness for a very long period. The same observation will apply to the use of Hemerocallts flava in the rock-garden. The English and Spanish sections are much smaller species than either of the foregoing. Both have wonderful colors in blue, bronze, and gold, but are not to be compared with those above men- tioned as border plants. /. Susiana, an Ori- ental species, is one of the strangest of hardy flowers — so weird, indeed, as to startle one on first beholding it. It is styled " mourning iris," its gray ground singularly and beautifully reticu- lated with dark purple. It looks like an Ori- ental flower ; you find it some morning perched upon its stem, a great orchid on an iris stalk. Though it will withstand our severe winters with protection, and often without, its flowering is usually checked. It should be treated like the tazetta Narcissus, or stored during the en- tire winter. The iris, and, for that matter, all desirable and easily grown flowers, should be raised on a sufficient scale to afford an abun- dant supply for indoor use. The Pceonias, including the tree, herbaceous, and Chinese sections, give us one of our most Summer JFlotoers. 139 lavish floral displays. If you can not grow rho- dodendrons, these are excellent substitutes in limestone soil ; they are equally floriferous, equal- ly large-flowered, and equally varied in coloring. Earliest are the single dark crimson and the double fennel-leaved P. tenuifolia. The petals of the latter are a vivid scarlet-crimson, one of the most distinct reds of the year, its feathery foliage unlike that of any of its tribe. Roses are scarcely finer than some of the fragrant Chinese varieties, notably the pure white f es- tiva, marked with carmine in the center, the dark-crimson Louis Van Houtte, the clear rose Humeii and Monsieur Boucharlat, and many others. Nor should we forget the old-fashioned red "piney," crimsoning in farmers' door-yards at the pretty things the great blue-bearded fleur- de-lis is telling her. The Pceonia may be said to grow itself, and, unlike the rhododendron, is perfectly hardy. Beautiful as a single specimen, massed in rows or beds few plants can vie with it for brilliancy. I always rejoice when the azalea blooms. In it I find a charm presented by no other flower. Its soft tints of buff, sulphur, and primrose, its dazzling shades of apricot, salmon, orange, and vermilion, are always a fresh revelation of color. They have no parallel among flowers, and exist 140 JPe ©attJCH's only in opals, sunset skies, and the flush of au- tumn woods. I admit that the rhododendron is magnificent where it can be acclimated ; but, even in England and on the Continent, it is exceeded in gorgeousness by the azalea. Then, its deli- cious, uncloying perfume — why does not Piesse embody it in an essence? Its common name, — swamp pink — brings up its odor and its flame. A bed of azaleas with a foil of dark green is a sight worth going miles to see, and an acquisi- tion worth obtaining at any price of peat and culture. The Ghent nursery-men who have de- veloped its hues should receive a medal of rubies, topazes, and zircons, executed by a Cellini. To the crossing of our common American species, nudiflora, calendulacea, and viscosa, with A. Pontica of southern Europe, and then selecting the best varieties raised from the seed of these crosses, we owe the so-called Ghent azalea. A. mollis, the Japanese and Chinese form, has been equally improved through hybrid- ization and selection; these are smaller plants, with larger flowers. The azalea will not thrive in limestone soil, but should be grown in peat, or leaf-mold mixed with garden-soil, the soil well firmed about the plants. In the latitude of the lower lake region they require winter protec- tion. With the azalea should be associated the Summer JFlotoers. 141 native tall-growing lilies, Canadense, Canadense rubrum, and superbum. A desirable border-plant is the columbine, or Aquilegia, in its many forms. Few perennials grow as easily from seed. They so very readily take crosses, however, that, where many are grown together, they can not be reproduced in the same character from their own seed. A. chrysantha, a Rocky Mountain species, with long-spurred, canary-colored flowers, and A. cce- rulea, with deep-blue sepals and white petals, from the same region, are the finest of the larger North American columbines. A. longissima is a species of western Texas, described as " flow- ers opening upward, spreading widely ; of a pale yellow, or sometimes nearly white, or tinged with red." Its remarkable characteristic is its immense spurs, four inches and upward in length. It has been raised from seed in the Cambridge Botanic Garden, but has proved ten- der in that latitude. A contributor of "Gar- den and Forest," where it was recently figured. makes this interesting comment on its wonder- ful spur-formation : " In view of the recognized adaptation of flowers and insects to each other for mutual benefit, it is a question what long- tongued moths have developed side by side with this long-spurred flower, and how far the plant 142 2Tt)e CSfartren's is really dependent upon such insects for fertili- zation." With the common scarlet columbine (A. Canadensis) almost every one is familiar. under cultivation it nearly doubles in size. There are numerous other American species, but none so fine as the Rocky Mountain forms. Many fine hybrids have been raised from these. A cross with the white form of A. vulgaris on caerulea has produced a flower of similar form to the latter, but of a pure snow-white color, two of these seedlings yielding double white flowers of the size and form of ccerulea. These white forms, including the common white, are among the most beautiful of all. A. glandu- losa, the Altaian columbine, and the scarce A. Stuartt, a hybrid between A. glandulosa and A. Witmanni, are pronounced the finest of the genus where they can be successfully grown, both requiring moisture at the roots, with perfect drainage. Of the several kinds of Hemerocallis seen in gardens, none equals H. flava, the old-fash- ioned and always beautiful " yellow lily." Why the rusty-colored fulva should be cultivated at all, when there are so many better things to take its place, is beyond comprehension ; yet country yards and city gardens are overrun with this coarse, spreading plant, whose flower is neither Summer JFlotoevs. 143 red nor orange, nor a good combination of both. It would require a gross of grub-hoes to eradi- cate it from the highway leading from any one village to another. Altogether a different plant is H. flava, frequently seen in country gardens. Indeed, the country garden often shows us the finest specimens ; and I have sometimes thought, the more dilapidated the homestead and the larger the blue myrtle patch, the finer the golden clumps of the day-lily. My garden was already generously stocked with this favorite plant, when, driving in the country, I saw two such uncommonly fine clumps growing in the unmown grass of a farm-yard, that the remembrance of them haunted me for days. I had no peace of mind until I should secure them. How they would light the front border ! What vasefuls of cut blooms they would supply, without so much as being missed ! An exchange for a dozen rose-bushes was the inducement I held out to the old lady who owned the coveted plants. The offer was ac- cepted — not, however, without much persua- sion ; and the huge clumps, which one man could scarcely lift, were duly transferred to a post of honor. They threw up three spikes of bloom the following season ! Perhaps they missed the chanticleer of the farm-yard to waken 144 ®-^e eSfavOen's Stovj». them into bloom ; perhaps they mourned the old lady's absence who had planted them and watched them and smelled them and compli- mented them, and given slips of them to her old lady neighbors — who knows ? I may add that, since being transplanted, the plants have become re-established, and now flower with their former luxuriance. In these same tumble-down farm- steads flourish many a colony of the double poet's narcissus, which neither you nor I can grow under trees or in the open border half so successfully. H. Kwanzo variegata is a large-leaved plant, attractive for its variegated foliage. H. Kwanzo ft. pi. is a robust species, preferable to H. fulva. H. graminea is a smaller flava in flower and foliage, and would be desirable were it not for its bad habit of spreading much at the root. I have found this almost ineradicable where it has obtained a strong foothold. The least particle of its white rootlets, under favor- able circumstances, forms a plant if left in the ground, and it soon spreads and undermines its neighbors. None of the species equals the old- fashioned flava, one of the most satisfactory and beautiful of hardy flowers. It should be planted along the borders of a long drive-way, to realize its superb grace and beauty. &\)t Summer JFlotoers. 145 Another fine, old-fashioned, tall-growing per- ennial occasionally seen in country gardens is the fraxinella (Dictamnus fraxinella), so named from its pinnate leaves, resembling those of the ash. Its two forms, the pink-purple and the white, bear showy terminal racemes of larkspur- like flowers in June. Apart from its flowers and graceful foliage, its most attractive characteristic is the spicy fragrance of both leaves and blossoms. It suggests anise, sweet-clover, and lavender. So- powerful is the volatile oil generated by its flowers, that a lighted match held several inches above the plant, on a still, hot summer's evening, will cause a flame to appear. A native of the Levant and southern Europe, it may be increased both from seed and root-division, the former being preferable. You should plant it along your favorite walk, with the lemon-balm and the anise-scented giant hyssop, so that you may pluck a leaf of them as you pass. I see, in many an old homestead along the shaded highway, the prim box-hedge inclosing the garden of old-fashioned flowers. Often as the swallow returns do they rise anew and blos- som with perennial freshness. The flowering locust-trees, and the tansy-bed running wild out- side the fence, give a hint of the fragrance within, where I see the water-bucket ready for 146 JJTIje ^Garten's -Storj?. its floral libation. I push open the wooden gate, to be greeted by the first snow-drops, the daffo- dils, the yellow crown-imperials, the grape- hyacinths. I see the blue irises, the larkspurs, the bell-flowers, the bachelor -buttons, the monk's-hood. I note the big double white pop- pies, the clumps of sweet-clover, the drifts of snow-pinks, the white phloxes. I see the Diely- tras, the sweet-williams, the tall, yellow tulips, the sword-grass and ribbon-grass, and Trades- cantia, I smell the sweet-peas, the valerian, the madonna-lilies, the white and purple stocks. I inhale the breath of ihe lilies of the valley, the brier-rose, the white day-lily, and the purple wis- taria twining about the porch. I see, too, the double-flowering rockets, the spotted tiger-lilies, the dahlias, the rows of hollyhocks, and the phalanx of sunflowers. Then, the flowering shrubs of the old-fash- ioned garden— the snowberries, honeysuckles, and roses of Sharon, the storm of the snow- balls, the mock-oranges, and the great white lilacs leaning over the hedge, heavy with their blossom and perfume. Nor is the herb-garden of the Fourth Georgic forgotten, where Cassia green and thyme shed sweetness round, Savory and strongly scented mint abound, Herbs that the ambient air with fragrance fill. ?Tt)e Summer JFlotoers. 147 Here grow mint, marjoram, anise, sweet-basil, catnip, lavender, thyme, coriander, summer- savory, and, last but not least of the fragrant labiates, the pungent sage, that will ruin the dressing of many a Thanksgiving turkey. A sassafras-tree not unfrequently grows, by acci- dent or design, somewhere about the yard ; and there is sure to be a red horse-chestnut, or a trumpet-flower, for the humming-birds to plunge in. How the swallows wheel and dive over the weather-beaten barn, and twitter among the eaves they have visited generation after genera- tion ! And what -a honey-laden wave surges over the neighboring clover-field ! I recall such a farmstead on the crest of the Livingston hills, where farm-life always appears at its pleasant- est. All around it extends the panorama of wood, ravine, and purple upland, changing with every change of atmosphere, open to every effect of sun and cumulus-cloud. Here, I thought, a philosopher might find the coveted stone. Life always seems so restful and its current so placid on the summer hills. But we forget the blight- ing frost, the- moaning blast, the wintry shroud. In life, things are pretty evenly balanced, after all ; and while summer is delightful in the coun- try, to the most of us, in winter, it is pleasanter 148 5Cf)e CKartnen's to think of in the city. Those who really love the country in its harsher aspects are few. I doubt if there exists another Thoreau for whom "the morning wind forever blows, bearing the broken strains, or celestial parts only, of terres- trial music." I see, too, the neglected farm-garden ; one passes many such along the dusty road. Here, an old locust and mock -orange have been allowed to sprout at will ; the blue iris has crept outside the fence, with clumps of double daffo- dils turned over by the plow and flung on to the road-side. There, is a jungle of stunted quinces and blighted pear-trees. The spreading myrtle-patch has usurped the place of what was once a lawn ; tall thistles, hog-weed, pig-weed, and burdocks make and scatter seed year after year ; an army of weeds has overrun the path — the plantain, purslane, goose-grass, dandelion, joint-weed, and mallow ; and a green goose- pond, over which are hovering yellow butterflies, exhales its miasma in the sun. Once the gar- den was beautiful, famous for its old-fashioned flowers, and many are the " slips " the neighbors obtained from its floral stores. The grain-fields and fat pastures corresponded with the luxuri- ance within. But the farm changed hands on the death of the owner, and the new owner -Summer JFlotoers. 149 cared little for the flowers, and has left the farm- lands mostly to themselves. I always hurry by the farmstead ; its dilapidated out-buildings look as if they might be haunted by the ghosts of starved and neglected animals. As I stroll through the garden toward even- ing, I find the brown May-fly has suddenly ap- peared in legions. Every bush and tree swarms with them ; while, high as one can see, the air is throbbing with their undulating flight. Now up, now down they go, flitting on wings of gos- samer, their antennae and long tails balancing them in their graceful dance of an hour. Is it simply to gorge the bats and the trout, which make the most of the insect-manna, that the May-fly is sent ? — for the naturalists do not as- cribe a cause for its brief existence, in the rea- son of nature. The first of the innumerable young broods of sparrows are fledged, and have begun their interminable shrieking. The foliage is so thick that it is almost impossible to shoot them ; and to attempt poisoning them is" out of the question, on account of the few remaining song-birds. How wretched they render human life ! What a constant burden for the ear to bear ! If they would only mew like the cat-bird, or do anything to vary the tedium of their incessant " Cheep ! 150 ?Tl)e esartien's Storj. cheep ! ! cheep ! ! ! " I envy the deaf, and the fat men who drown all other sounds with the sound of their own wheezing. My neighbor's parrot, who yells like all the fiends of Dante's Inferno, has at least the merit of variety in his voice. If the sparrow continues to multiply, there will be a new verdict rendered at coroners' juries ; his monotonous cry is fast abbreviating the allotted span of mankind. Meanwhile, the floral procession is advancing in the flower-borders. The large Oriental pop- pies are rightly named, and, with their fine foliage and immense flame-colored blossoms, are undoubtedly the most gorgeous of garden-flow- ers. You could almost light your pipe from them. The variety bracteatum is the stouter grower, holding its stalks more firmly and erect, and is the superior in the color and beauty of its lustrous, dark scarlet flower. The petals of the Oriental poppy are oddly marked with pur- ple-black spots inside, forming a black cross. Parkman's Oriental poppy, originated near Bos- ton, is another fine form, as yet rarely seen. The Oriental poppies and the yellow day-lily, blossoming at the same period, should be large- ly employed in the border and other suitable places of the garden. I have planted the tall, late-flowering tulips 2Tf)e Summet JFlotoets. 151 freely among the poppies, the luxuriant foliage of the latter concealing the naked base of the tulips. A mass of tulips thus grown produces a much finer effect than when bedded by them- selves. The tulip invariably looks better in neg- lected gardens for this reason ; it is seldom seen rising from the bare earth, generally springing from the grass or shrubbery, or at least having a background of green. Seeds of these big Ori- entals should be sown in February in the green- house, so that they may germinate early, be pricked off, and form strong plants to set out as soon as possible in May. While they are per- fectly hardy, small plants are generally winter- killed. I find growing among my P. bractea- tum, raised from seed, a distinct variety with smaller flowers of a peculiar and very beautiful cherry-red. We must go to the Orientals to learn the true use and significance of flowers. " Very beautiful are the flower customs here," says a writer from the lands of Kalidasa and Firdusi. " In Bombay, I found the Parsees use the Victo- ria Gardens chiefly to walk in, ' to eat the air.' Their enjoyment of it was heartily animal. The Hindoo would stroll through them, attracted from flower to flower not by its form or color but its scent. He would pass from plant to 152 JEije ©fartjett's plant, snatching at the flowers and crushing them between his fingers as if he were taking snuff. Presently a Persian, in flowing robe of blue, and on his head his sheep-skin hat, would saunter in, and stand and meditate over every flower he saw, and always as if half in vision ; and when the vision was fulfilled, and the ideal flower he was seeking found, he would spread his mat and sit before it, and fold up his mat again and go home. And the next night, and night after night, until that particular flower faded away, he would return to it, and bring his friends in ever-increasing troops to it, and sit and play the guitar and lute before it, and they would all together pray there, and after prayer still sit before it, sipping sherbet and talking late into the moonlight ; and so again and again every evening, until the flower died. Some- times, by way of a grand finale, the whole company would suddenly rise before the flower and serenade it with an ode from Hafiz, and depart." I suppose we could not do without the June Pyrethrum, it is so floriferous, and has such feathery, deep-green foliage. Nevertheless, I see no excuse for littering up a garden with some of its crimson-magentas or magenta-crimsons. Weeded of its bad colors and bad centers, it is 2Tl)e Summer iFlotoets. 153 certainly worthy of all praise. It lasts long, and its flowers are excellent for cutting. Speaking of bad colors, I think there is much in what a young lady once observed to me at a ball, the conversation turning on the newly deco- rated rooms. " I don't think the glaring combi- nations and unhappy uses of color we frequently see in houses and exhibited in dress so much the fault of individual taste as of a deficiency of the color-sense. Let us count the green dresses, of which there seem to be an unusually large num- ber present, and I assure you in advance that at least every third person you ask will pronounce the delicate shades of green blue. It is the same with reds. A hideous solferino looks all right to some ; it appears the same shade to them, doubtless, as a cardinal or a terra-cotta or some other shade does to you. I haven't the slightest doubt that color-blindness is at the bottom of much of the distress that one's eyes are forced to encounter." Solferino and magen- ta, or shades closely touching upon them, should not be tolerated in the garden. They are weeds, that ought to be eradicated as soon as they ap- pear. A writer in the London " Garden " gives a simple rule to determine whether colors harmo- nize : " People who have no natural perception of 12 154 3n>* ®ar'oen'» Sbtorg. color can not be trained to arrange colors har- moniously by any code of rules ; but those who have a natural feeling for color can find out whether any two colors harmonize by a very easy test. Place the colors separately on a gray, white, or black ground. If they are brighter, richer, and fuller together than separately, they harmonize ; but if not, they should not be placed together." I could say more in favor of spiraea or Hoteta Japonica were it not so susceptible to the hot sun. Charming so long as it remains fresh, dur- ing average seasons its foliage is soon blighted and its beauty destroyed. The hardy, large perennial spiraeas are beautiful with their grace- ful spikes and plumes and panicles. Of these, S. aruncus, the familiar goat's-beard, is among the finest when well established and allowed sufficient room to attain its full development. S. Humboldtii is equally robust, though its flow- ers are not so pure a white. The species filt- pendula and its double are worthy a place in the border if only for their graceful, fern-like foliage. S. ulmaria fl. pi., and its form with golden variegated foliage, are both desirable species. The prairie Spircea lobata, with its rosy carmine cymes, must take the place of the finest of all the meadow-sweets, the Japanese S. .Summer JFlotoers. 155 palmata, which does not thrive in this climate. Under cultivation, all the herbaceous spiraeas prefer partial shade, and, to appear at their best, should be supplied with water in hot weather, or their appearance is soon marred by withered foliage. What would the old-fashioned garden do without the sweet-william ; and the new-fash- ioned one, too, for that matter ? It is as indis- pensable as the snow-pink, the carnation, and the aster. " Die fallen ins Aug'f" they fall into the eye, to quote from the gardener once more, an apothegm I think worth embalming. Gay they are, with their infinite colorings and their prodigality of bloom. The Dtanthus are all of them pretty, notwithstanding the interminable appellation of one, Dianthus sinensis Heddewtgi diadematus flore plena ! Leave them alone, and they will sow themselves ; sow the seed on good ground, and they reward you a thousand-fold. They vie with the auriculas in their merry eyes, and are almost as brilliant and fourfold as last- ing as the poppies, unless I except the Iceland- ers. Even the old maids love their sweet-will- iams. In Gerarde's day it was " esteemed for its beauty to deck up the bosoms of the beautiful, and garlands and crowns for pleasure." It is well to caution those who grow it, however, not 156 2TI)e ©artien's Stortj. to place it close to gravel-walks, where the seeds are apt to drop and cause no little trouble ; they germinate so freely. Seeds should be saved from the best kinds, most desirable colors, and strongest trusses. The Eschscholtzia and Core- opsis become almost a pest unless the seed-cap- sules are cut off, and the Calendula is also troublesome in this respect ; but the latter may be excused, it is so warm and steadfast in late autumn when we could hardly do without it for cut flowers. With the sweet-william is often associated another old garden favorite, the snow-pink (Dz- anthus plumarius), a charming subject when well grown. I once saw an immense patch of this in front of a country cottage, growing so luxuriantly that the fragrance drifted far out on to the highway. I stopped to inquire of the genius loci, who was busy with her watering- can, how she grew them so finely and so pro- fusely. " I pinch them, give them plenty of water, and keep up a fresh stock from cuttings every two years." The old story, I thought ; new words to the old tune — " care." The large bell-flowers are doing excellent duty as flowering-plants, notably the old-fash- ioned Canterbury bells {Campanula medium}. Their immense scalloped goblets of diversified 2T|)e Summer JFlotoers. 157 colors are preferable in the single to the double and duplex forms. The several spikes are stout and the species is of robust habit, altogether a grand border-plant. So also is the strong and taller C. macrantha with blue-purple bells. It should have a partially shaded place in the back row of every border. The peach-leaved bell- flower (C. per sisctf olid) is an excellent border- plant, but does not hold itself erect like the other species, and therefore needs staking. All plants, it may be observed, that require support should be staked early, instead of being left until they begin to flag. For supports iron stakes are the neatest. The Austrian harebell (C. pulla), a small species with lovely, drooping purple bells, would be an admirable subject for the rock-gar- den were it not for its rambling root-stalks. C. barbata, the bearded harebell of Switzerland, I have not found as satisfactory as some of its , relatives. To judge from the description and illustra- tion, the finest of the bell-flowers — if it may justly be termed a bell-flower — must be the Bokhara bell-flower (Ostrowskia magmfica), just introduced into Europe, a grand chime of bells crowning a tall, leafy spire. The stem is stout, from three to five feet high, the leaves in whorls ; and the flowers, which are five inches or more 158 5Tf)e Garten's in diameter, placed in loose terminal panicles — pale mauve varying to light blue, with a large, club-like stigma. A country that can produce such rugs as Bokhara, acquiring with time a color and bloom like that of a ripe peach and plum, ought to contribute an extraordinary flow- er; but whether the flower will improve with age and wear in a foreign climate is as yet unde- termined. I do not hear anything of the great Califor- nian poppy wort (Romneya Coulter 7'), which created such a stir on its introduction into Eng- land. Mr. F. A. Miller, of San Francisco, who introduced it twelve or fourteen years ago, wrote me, " There is no flower that combines so many good qualities — such a fragrance, beauty, and general effect — as this plant." Unfortunately, it will not survive our rigorous climate, and I believe it has failed to establish itself in most gardens where it has been tried in England. In her plants California is not accommodating, as a general rule, Nature having for the most part suited them only to the climate of their birth. They are ill adapted to our sudden snaps of winter returned. The roses are now in their prime. I had occasion to cut a collection this morning — June 22d — rising shortly after three o'clock. A rustling ?Ti)e Summer JHotoers. 159 of the tree-tops was the first precursor of dawn — the breeze which nearly always precedes awak- ening day. At 3.20, before it was yet light, the cat-bird was first of the songsters to salute the morn. Five minutes afterward the wood-pewee drowsily voiced the first two notes of his refrain — " whe-u whe, whee-u !" In just two minutes more a robin began his matin song, followed by the crowing of the cocks, which quickly ceased, until at 3.40 the wood-pewee began whistling merrily, immediately succeeded by the robins, wood-thrushes, sparrows, and various song-birds, all joining in the morning chorus. At four the crescendo was at its height, when it gradually diminished, soon leaving the sparrows in almost undisputed possession. I found the honey- b^ees busy among the raspberry-blossoms a few minutes after four, and the big bumble-bees but a little later to begin their morning task. Of all these early risers I for once was the earliest. The hollyhock may be termed a great power in July. Classed as a biennial, it might almost come under the head of perennials, being as permanent as many true perennials. It was a favorite of Wordsworth and is also of Tennyson. Tennyson's summer, . . . buried deep in hollyhocks, 160 2Ti)e ©arTien's Stotj. is expressive of the luxuriance of this Chinese flower. It should be seen in.long rows, in well- drilled color-columns, to exhibit its most striking effect, each plant a sentinel in uniform, and each with rosettes brighter than his fellows. The hollyhock will grow anywhere ; it will grow doubly well with deep cultivation, and when lib- erally manured and watered during dry weather. Dampness being injurious during winter, it is recommended to remove the earth about the crowns in autumn and fill up with six inches of white sand. Propagation is effected from eyes, seeds, cuttings, and division. The thrip and red spider are fond of the hollyhock, and hence the rusty appearance so many plants present. If you have four or five gardeners, this may be obviated by syringing every leaf, upper and un- der side, of the long rows daily with whale-oil soap and tobacco-water. The hollyhock also demands an admission fee. The graceful spring bitter-vetch (Orobus vernus) is past its flowering, but still retains its handsome foliage. Hieraceum aurantiacum has passed, after showing its peculiar orange-red flowers, even more odd in color than those of the native orange-red milkweed that stains the sandy places in midsummer. The creamy trusses of the tall valerian are a hive of sweet- JJTfje Summer JFlotoets. 161 ness, and the yellow camomile (Anthemis tinc- torid) is covered with its daisy-like flowers, re- joicing in the increasing heat. It will soon be succeeded by Coreopsis lanceolata, another of the showy yellow composites, with the ever- blooming pea, the double-flowering rocket, and the large-leaved day-lilies, of which Sieboldti has the finest foliage, and the white variety the finest and sweetest flower. Not without just reason is the larkspur in- cluded among the nine flowers specified in the garden of " Maud " — the woodbine, jasmine, vio- let, acacia, pimpernel, rose, lily, passion-flower, and larkspur. Keats should have included it in his sonnet on blue. Holmes alludes to it neatly in the " Autocrat " : Light as a loop of larkspurs — light in its poise, and light or dark, as you wish it, in its complexion, and beautiful in all its forms. Sauntering at dusk through the fragrant gar- den alleys, I hear as in a dream the last faint notes of the vesper-sparrow; and see, kindling the edge of the covert and sparkling amid the shrubbery-glooms, the myriad fire-fly revelers mernly dancing out the last sweet night of June. (Bwrfcett favorites. I love the lily as the first of flowers, Whose stately stalk so straight up is and stay. ALEXANDER MONTGOMERY. . . . The coming rose, The very fairest flower, they say, that blows, Such scent she hath ; her leaves are red, they say, And fold her round in some divine, sweet way. PHILIP BOURKE MARSTON. VII. TWO GARDEN FAVORITES. [LPHABETICALLY, the lily comes be- fore the rose ; and in the summer- garden, which would lack its greatest charm if deprived of either, the common orange- lily appears before the first June rose. Is this significant ; and shall I say the flower singled out in the sixth chapter of St. Matthew's Gospel excels its sister in floral graces and vir- tues ? The rose, as we generally admire it, as it is eulogized by the poets, is a florist's flower. Its rival, equally well known, and almost if not as freely extolled in poetry, owes less to man and more to nature. I would not detract from the rose, when I say it is less graceful than the lily and its form more artificial. In comparative merits of color and fragrance it would be difficult to discriminate; each has its claims that may 1 66 ?Ti)e <«Kar&en's Stotg. not be overlooked. I may add, on the other hand, if you smell of a lily you are liable to be stained by its pollen ; and if you pluck a rose, there lurks the hidden thorn. Perhaps the lily and the rose, or the rose and the lily, furnish a case in point where comparisons are odious, and each one may better decide for himself which is the superior flower. I begin with the lily, therefore, because it comes first alphabetically, and is first to appear. Whispered the white lily to me : I am the em- blem of purity, the type of saintliness ; at the altar and at the tomb I bring joy and consola- tion ; in the garden I am sweet beyond all my companions, and with my whiteness none can compare ; I am sweet, I am chaste, I am beloved by all. Do you know my origin ? " Jupiter wished to make his boy Hercules (born of a mortal) one of the gods: so he snatched him from the bosom of his earthly mother, Alcmena, and bore him to the breast of the god-like Juno. The milk is spilled from the full-mouthed boy as he traverses the sky (making the Milky Way), and what drops below stars and clouds and touches earth, stains the ground with lilies." So extensive and beautiful is the genus Lz'lzum, so varied in form, color, and periods of blossoming, that, like the daffodil, a garden might ?Tu)o (Sfartren JFaborftes. 167 be composed of it alone. We readily concede its beauty ; the next thing is to manage it. " The more I see of lilies, the less I know how to grow them," is a wise maxim of H. J. Elwes. One re- quires tact and perseverance to grow the lily. Very many of its numerous species are fastidious, quick to express their likes and dislikes ; some, indeed, refuse to yield to culture unless in a cli- mate of their own choosing. Yet, after all, most of the species may be satisfactorily grown if proper attention be paid to soil, position.tAnd protection. While the majority of the genus are hardy, and very many are natives of cold climates or high elevations, winter protection to nearly all species is nevertheless^dvisable with us. If the ground remained covered with snow the entire winter, the bulbs would not suffer. It is the alternate and frequent changes from freezing to thawing which contract and heave the ground that causes the trouble, the bulbs themselves contracting and expanding with the changes of temperature. No less important is the matter of drainage : very few lilies will endure being water-logged ; very few, also, will endure ma- nure about their bulbs. The manure harbors wire-worms, which are fond of the lily's ten- der scales. To obviate this, and to strength- 1 68 grijc Barton's Storj?. en root-action, all lilies, on being planted, should receive a liberal sprinkling of sharp sand about the bulbs. With us the lily is even more susceptible to drought than to frost, and failure is oftener the result of shallow planting and poor soil, than owing to the rigors of our winter climate. Very much depends on good, deep, and congenial soil, and healthy bulbs to start with. Partial shade, with some species, is absolutely necessary, and all are benefited by, and some will not grow at all without, a liberal supply of moisture. Differ- ent species are as different in their requirements as they vary in the character of their bulbs and their periods of flowering. What holds good of one climate often does n,ot of another. I have seen magnificent beds of established Lilium au- ratum and spectosum on the Eastern coast in open sun, that it would be utterly impossible to grow without shade in the lower lake region. They liked not only the peat and deep trenching, but extracted a tonic from the sea-air, which just met their requirements. It is one thing to grow certain plants where the climate itself grows them ; it is quite another thing where they have to be cajoled into tractability. The more diffi- cult the task, however, the greater the satisfac- tion to accomplish it ; success is always pleasant, ?Ttoo (Sarben Jfaborftes. 169 whether to grow a capricious flower or banish a troublesome weed. The following is the last classification adopt- ed by Mr. J. G. Baker in his " Synopsis of all the Known Lilies," published in 1875 : I. Subgenus CARDIOCRINUM (leaves heart- shaped). Types : L. cordifolium, L. gigan- teum. II. Subgenus EULIRION (flowers funnel- shaped). Types : L. longtflorum, L. candt- dum, L. Washingtonianum. III. Subgenus ARCHELIRION (flowers open). Types : L. ttgrinum, L. speciosum, L, aura- turn. IV. Subgenus ISOLIRION (flowers erect). Types : L. croceum, L. concolor, L. Philadel- phicum. V. Subgenus MARTAGON (flowers turban- shaped). Types: L. martagon, L. superbum, L. pomponium, L. polyphyllum. If one would go distracted on the subject of forms and varieties, he should peruse the anno- tated " Alphabetical List of the Species and Va- rieties of Lilium," compiled by M. d'Hoop, a Bel- gian amateur, published in vol. xxvii, No. 692, of the London "Garden." Thus, under L. Cana- dense, its principal varieties are described as L. C. superbum (intermediate between Canadense 13 1 70 2T!)e CGartJcn's and superbum), L. C. rubrum, L. C. Hartwegi, L. C. minus, L. C. occidental, L, C. parviflo- rum, L. C. parvum, L. C. puberulum, L. C. Walkeri. No less than seven forms of L. Phi- ladelphtcum are mentioned : L. P. andmum, L. P. wanschartcum, L. P. of Brentwood, L. P. of Connecticut, L, P. of Massachusetts, L. P. of the Orange Mountains, L. P. varietas Hookeri. First among the lilies is one of the three most common and easily-grown species, the tall orange- lily (L. croceum). This would show to better advantage if it did not appear with the Oriental poppies, which overpower everything else in red about them. The orange-lily looks best spring- ing from the shrubbery, and, like the tiger-lily, needs to be seen in strong, well-established clumps, to show its real characteristics. The orange-lily is succeeded, a few days later, by one of the finest of lilies, the Caucasian L. colchi- cum, much less frequently seen than its merit deserves — a soft canary-yellow flower, speckled with small dark-brown spots on either rim of the petals, and exhaling an intense and individual odor. It is a slow species to arrive at perfection, and, owing to the cernuous habit of its flower, is not seen at its best until well established and its stems rise to their full height. 'As it blossoms with the conspicuous lemon-yellow day-lily, it ©far&en Jfaborftes. 171 should be placed where it may be seen by itself. This species varies not a little in the character of its flowers, some being larger and deeper-colored than others, and having the petals more freely spotted ; it is one of the easiest of lilies to raise from seed. L. colchicum does well in the open sun, but grows larger in partial shade, where it also holds its flowers and foliage better. The voracious rose-beetle is becoming more and more omnivorous. Prompt to appear with the first white Madame Plantier rose, his armies soon pounce upon the white paeonias, which would be utterly ruined were he not kept in check. Last year he added the white Iceland poppy and Spiraea filtpendula to his bill of fare, and to-day I find him attacking the colchicum lilies. One can not gather a bucketful and toss them into one's neighbor's garden, for they would only fly back again. My neighbor, who lets his chickweed and dandelions go to seed, is, I think, the main cause of their increasing numbers, for he never lifts a finger to destroy them. Siberia contributes one of the smallest and earliest of the lily family in L. tenuifolium, pret- tier as a cut-flower than when growing out of doors, where its many wide-branched blooms and sparse leafage on slender stalks give it a top- heavy appearance. Its small vermilion, wax- 172 &!)e Barton's like, and strongly-scented flowers are distinct among the turbans. L. pulchellum, another small red species, from Siberia, blossoms with tenuifolhtm. Both of these do best in sandy soil, as does also the common wild orange-red lily (L. Philadelphi- cum), a most beautiful early species. You have seen its single and sometimes two and three flow- ered blossoms lighting the June meadows and sandy hill-sides. Its blossoms seldom number more than three. A gigantic specimen I once found with eight blossoms, and which I carefully transplanted with a large ball, divided itself into four stalks the following season. I do not wonder that the Madonna lily (L. candidum) has been claimed as an emblem by nearly a hundred saints. It seems to have a special charm of its own, so chaste it is, so in- violable in its purity. The roses and the big blue larkspurs come into bloom just in time to set it off, and together, perhaps, form the most beautiful summer pageant of the garden. The Madonna lily is one of the most gracious of its graceful tribe, being not only unusually hardy, but quick to increase, and thriving in almost any soil and position. Though its white print is seen everywhere, it is a flower that is never common. One of the easiest to grow, it is no 2Ttoo Ofartien JFaborftes. 173 exception to the rest of the genus in its dis- like to being disturbed. The right way is to think twice before placing any plant or tree, so that, when once planted, it will not be necessary to interfere with it. Where transplanting is necessary, the lily should be moved when its bulb is at rest — a period easily determined by the dying down of the foliage and stalk. Many lilies require several years to become established, and, so long as they remain healthy and flower vyell, they should not be disturbed. What ap- plies to the daffodil does not hold good with the lily ; and I think the rule laid down by many, that the latter is benefited by transplanting and dividing every two or three years, is wrong. None of the varieties of the white lily can com- pare with the type ; the double form is as great a failure as the rose-colored lily of the valley. The past year the white lilies were not as fine as usual, something in the late spring, or else the previous dry autumn, affecting them. The stalks were less strong, and the leaves often turned yel- low before the appearance of the flowers. The lily should not have its stalk cut down after blossoming, until the leaves have fallen off, and the stalk becomes yellow and shriveled. It is always a temptation to cut down the withered stems, which are unsightly. But to remove the 174 2Ej)£ {JSarTien's Storj. green stems means to make the bulb go to rest prematurely, the result being that the next sea- son the flower-stems come up weaker and pro- duce smaller flowers. There is no objection to cutting the stems down gradually from the top as they become dry ; this does not weaken the bulbs, and at the same time avoids the appear- ance of untidiness. We would naturally expect much of the scar- let martagon or scarlet Turk's-cap (L. chalcedo- nicuni), the true " lily of the field." Indeed, it is never disappointing, except when it is disturbed, the species being extremely sensitive to removal, and never being good for several years after transplanting. It is one of the grand things in red ; an old clump of it, in fiery scarlet flower, is a sight for a cardinal to dream of and a hum- ming-bird to admire. Its cultural requirements are as simple as those of the Madonna lily, and the beautiful cross between these two, the Nan- keen lily (L. excelsum, L. testaceum, L. Isabelli- num). No garden should be without this fine hybrid to accompany the white lily. It inherits the stateliness and the combined perfume of both parents, with a soft apricot or buff-salmon color unique among its family. An overestimated lily, I think, is the yellow L. Hansom. It is to the Japanese species what 3Ttoo CSfartien jfabort'tes. 175 the panther lily (L. pardeltnum) is to the North American kinds— there are many finer to choose from. But both are easy to grow, and the grand whorls of Hansoni certainly are not to be de- spised. Its small turban is of a distinct yellow, with a peculiar Oriental odor — you would know it came from Japan with your eyes shut. I should, doubtless, admire it more if I could grow it larger. I place it above pardelinum, which passes by quickly, and has a loose sort of flower on limp stalks that always require support; Montgomery would never have grown the latter in his lily garden. The Calif ornian L. Wash- ingtonianum is, I think, also overestimated — difficult to grow, and very fleeting. L. Hum- boldttt, L. rubescens, and Z. Parryt are finer. All the Californian species, except pardelinum, are more or less difficult to manage ; they often remain in the ground a long time before appear- ing. These do better in some portions of Eng- land, where they are consigned by the thousands, to be sold at auction. No little confusion has exr isted concerning the Californian species. There are differences in plants which florists readily recognize, but botanists will not. Thus L. ru- bescens, one of the handsomest of the species, was formerly classed with L. Washtngtontanum, a distinct species in almost every particular. 176 ffiDe CKartJen's .Storj). Recently a yellow form of pardelinum has been discovered, together with another species, which the discoverer, Mr. F. A. Miller, of San Francis- co, informs me he has designated as L. pardeli- num Alptnum. This, he states, "grows on dry ground, and in general characteristics is not un- like L. parvum, which, however, only grows on very wet ground, or along water-courses. The flower is small, but vivid and rich in color ; near- ly half of the flower, which appears horizontally, is scarlet. I found it at an elevation of eleven thousand feet, higher than the altitude where any lilies grow usually." Where it can be well grown, L. speciosum, with its numerous varieties, is unquestionably one of the finest of the genus. The Massachu- setts climate, which produced the beautiful va- riety Melpomene, suits it ; but it is usually seen at its best under glass. L. Brownii, another Japanese species, is far more rare, but scarcely as handsome as the common L. longiflorum and its varieties. Contrary to general opinion, I have found the former extremely slow to recover after lifting. L. Harrisii, the Bermuda lily, is best suited to the greenhouse, on account of its tend- ency to start so early, and is not to be compared with the Japanese long-trumpeter for out-of-door culture. An easily-grown lily is the European ?Ttoo (SJarten jFabotftes. 177 Turk's-cap (L. martagon), and its fine varieties, album and dalmattcum ; the latter is said to re- vert to. the type after a few years' cultivation. There are scores of varieties to choose from in the Japanese species Thunbergtanum or elegans, nearly all of which are dwarf in habit, and vary in color from pale apricot, orange, and orange- red, to blood and deep red. These are among the easiest of the genus to grow, and do not like shade. L. bulbiferum, somewhat like Thunber- gianum, with orange-crimson flowers, is also one of the least fastidious species ; the variety umbel- latum is a stronger grower than the type. Both of these are valuable early species where a mass of red in lilies is desired in open sun. Of the many species we owe to Japan, none can compare with the great golden-banded lily (L. auratum) and its varieties ; if, in reality, it is not the finest of its tribe. But it is a coquette at heart, and, unless wooed earnestly and persistent- ly, in ninety-nine cases- out of a hundred it will only smile bewitchingly the first year, to jilt you the next. Of the hundreds of thousands of bulbs imported annually from Japan by Europe and America, very few remain after the second and third year. This is not owing to its tender- ness, for it is among the hardiest of the genus. Neither is it a mere question of climate and cult- 178 5T1)C ffiavfcen's Stotj. ure. Climate and culture have much to do with it, but the main reason of its failure is beyond this. Investigation has only recently brought to light the chief cause of its disappointment. In its own home it is infested by a mite, which, however, does not seem to cause trouble until it leaves its native country. The enfeeblement in- cident to the removal of " the bulb, together with the difference of soil and climate, cause its de- terioration. Some unusually strong round bulbs, which may not be so much affected, if placed amid congenial surroundings, are able to resist this tendency ; and it is only by selecting a quan • tity of the best bulbs to start with, and retaining the most robust of these after the first year's flowering, that we may hope to establish this lily ; that is, unless it can be grown more suc- cessfully from scales or seed, a process seldom tried in this country, where we have not the patience to wait. Of fifty bulbs, perhaps only one third, more frequently a quarter or less, re- main after the second year, even when grown under the most advantageous circumstances. This is what the term " home-grown Lilium auratum " means, or is supposed to mean ; for the loss is always so great that few care to deal in auratum bulbs, except as directly imported. CJTtoo (Satften Jfatoorftes. 179 Notwithstanding this, so desirable is the golden-banded lily, that it is worth any amount of trouble to establish. Peat, with the addition of sharp sand, seems to meet its cultural require- ments best, although it does well among Onoclea ferns, in soil largely composed of black " muck " or decayed wood. A sufficiency of water it must have, and abundance of shade is absolutely necessary to success. The midday sun is fatal to it. A flickering shade, I should say, is best for this and most lilies. It should also be placed where it will not be subject to high winds. The auratum is one of the most protracted of the genus in its flowering period, and scarcely two of a number of bulbs planted at the same time come into flower simultaneously. There are numerous varieties of this species, all of which are beautiful ; the more pronounced the terra- cotta spots and vivid the color of the ray or cen- tral band, the finer the flower. I regard a well - grown Lilium auratum, with a strong stalk rising to a height of five or six feet, supporting its dozen or more deliciously- scented blooms, as the grandest of all hardy flowers. It is worth planting a hundred bulbs to establish one such embodiment of floral beauty. When I stand in its lovely presence I am repaid for any trouble ; and I freely forgive 180 STDe esarten's Storj. the Japanese all the misery they have inflicted upon Kiota and Awata. It is scarcely astonish- ing that a country which can produce such a flower should produce artisans to whom nothing is impossible. It ought to inspire a transcend- ental literature. Under date of August 29, 1885, F. Bridger, Penshurst Place, Kent, wrote to the London " Garden " : " We have in the open ground here a Lilium auratum with forty flowers upon it at the present time, and over a hundred more still to open; the plant has six stems seven feet high." The proprietor should go down upon his knees to such a gardener, and endow him with an annuity for life ! Remarkable among lilies, and differing en- tirely from the type, is the Himalayan species, L. giganteum, termed the " king of lilies." It is, I believe, generally considered tender with us, and difficult to manage. Two years ago I experi- mented with three of a dozen small bulbs, plant- ing them out on the 2oth of November, in rich loam and leaf-mold. These wintered perfectly, and the remainder, which were placed in a cool house, have since withstood the winter equally well, and are now vigorous plants, with immense Caladium-Y\\f.& leaves, growing in partial shade ; these have not yet flowered. This species, in Europe, attains a height of ten feet, and bears SCtoo (Sartien JFaborftcs. 181 huge trumpet-shaped, nodding white flowers, in- teriorly stained with purple, and of powerful fragrance. It is a strong rooter, and, as it push- es up very early, it should be planted rather deeply, and protected with fine ashes from spring frosts. It is said to require years before it sends up its flower-stalk, and the longer it is in coming into flower the finer it is said to be. The tiger-lily (L. tigrinum), an occupant of most gardens, is never common when well grown. Its odd Chinese color and pronounced spots must be seen in mass to do it justice ; the old-fashioned country garden invariably does well by it, because it is left undisturbed. L. tigrinum splendens is termed the most beauti- ful, though the double variety is almost equally fine. All of the tigers are among the very easy lilies to grow. A single specimen of a beautiful native lily of the Canadense section was discovered in 1840 by Dr. Asa Gray, on the Alleghanies, North Caro- lina, and named in his honor Z. Grayi. This is described as having flowers of dark-red orange, uniformly dotted within with rather small purple spots. Although since found in the same habi- tat, the species is as yet extremely rare. A lily distinctly American is the wild Turk's- cap {L. super bum), an inhabitant of meadows 1 82 SCI)e CSfartoen's Storj. and low grounds, the tallest and most numerous flowered of our native lilies. So variable is this in its size, shape, color, markings, and the num- ber of its flowers, that it is difficult to specify it distinctly. It is a question, moreover, just when it becomes concurrent with L. Canadense ru- brum, as would not unfrequently seem to be the case. The most common forms of the species bear dingy red or yellowish-red flowers, and vary greatly in the robustness of the plants. L. super- bum, as usually sent out, is anything but the superb lily it is in certain favored localities, and none who have only seen its more common forms have any conception of its stately beauty in its rarer and perfected state. Along the Old Colony Railway, between Newport and Boston, and on the Shore Line between New London and Boston, the species is seen at its best. For miles it fol- lows one along the railway, steeping whole meadows in scarlet, the color of the flowers varying from the most intense bright crimson to dingy yellowish-red. There in the salt air it revels even on dry, poor soil, bearing from three to fifteen or more commonly three to seven flow- ers on a head. In its cultivated state, where well grown, the large form is still more free flowering, the bulbs throwing up from a dozen to three dozen blooms 2Ttoo gJartocn Jfaborftes. 183 on stems eight to nine feet high. I have never seen it as brilliant under cultivation as it occurs wild in the localities referred to. Neither have I ever seen the lemon-yellow Canadense as vividly colored or as tall as it occurs near New London, Conn. Fine color and tall stalks with L. super- bum under cultivation, however, will largely de- pend upon good selection made in the native habitat. This year a disease seems to have af- fected L. superbum under cultivation in some places, causing the stems to shrivel and the leaves to rot off. Of the graceful Turk's-caps or turbans there are none, I think, unless I except the rare form of L. superbum, equal to the red Canadense, our own wild wood-lily. I know of no lily more graceful or stately. It is as distinctly American as the cardinal-flower or the pink lady's-slipper. Something it possesses of the wildness, the sup- pleness, and the charm of cool leafy places — in its tall, polished wand, its fluttering whorls, and the pure whiteness of its rhizome. It always looks self-possessed, bending but never breaking before the rain and storm. Then its life and fire when rising from the foil of light-green Onocleas. I find it growing in low woods where water has lodged in spring, lifting its lithe stem along shaded ditches and hedges, and rising in flexile 184 fffte (ffifarten's -Storg. grace amid the chosen haunts of the sensitive fern. Owing to its increased vigor the red form of Canadense is preferable to the yellow, though the latter is exquisitely beautiful in the color and poise of its flower. Certainly the yellow form of L. Canadense far surpasses any yellow form of L. superbum, the latter invariably having a washy appearance. L. Canadense rubrum is much earlier to blossom than superbum. The distinction of shape of flower, however — superbum being quite recurved in the Turk's-cap style — is, perhaps, more obvious than any other characteristic. I find the red L. Canadense extremely protean, plants of similar size occurring side by side with long, rather narrow leaves, and again with short and very wide leaves ; the number of leaves on a whorl also being very variable, while in some plants the flowers are much more nodding than in others. In low, damp woods, near by where it is extremely abundant and attains a very large size, I have also noticed much variation in the shades and spots. The largest and most dis- tinctly marked flowers I have seen occurred in strong plants having what might be termed vari- egated foliage, the leaves in these instances be- ing yellowish in tone, marked with dark-green veins and blotches. Some have the back of the fftoo ©fartoen JFatoorftes. 185 petals marked with pale-yellow bands on the edges. This is one of the most striking and ex- ceptional forms, though the numerous flowers are smaller. Some have flowers with the under side of the petals stained a deep vermilion ; some have large and some small dots; others occur with flowers much larger than the type ; and the form I have specified as occurring with vari- egated foliage has the handsomest flowers of all, of medium size, with the back of the petals col- ored a glowing vermilion-scarlet. The large- flowered form has the petals the least spotted of all, no dots appearing on the terminal half of the petals. The latter is one of the most robust of the section. Another rare form occurs with the outside of the petals blotched and spotted with yellow, and I have met with still another form, intermediate between rubrum andJZavum. All these, with the exception of the variegated form, I have found growing in the same woods in flickering shade, and all have preserved their distinguishing characteristics under cultivation. The yellow Canadense, while a less robust grower, withstands the sun better than the red variety. The latter is worthless grown in open sun. Placed among any of our native ferns ex- cept the big ostrich, which starts so early in growth as to choke or stunt the lilies, they 14 1 86 2T!)e Barton's thrive luxuriantly, and are thus probably seen to the best advantage. Mr. Peter Henderson has justly remarked that the lily has no poor relations, and that in a general collection of the species all that can be imagined desirable and perfect in floral forms will be realized. Indeed, it is beautiful in all its very numerous forms ; and when we consider that except one or two species it is a flower with no in- sect pests, the lily may well be regarded as one of the greatest treasures of the hardy flower-garden. The roses seem more beautiful than ever this year, a characteristic of this favorite flower ; it is always more beautiful. Said a blush rose to me : I am the type of youth and voluptuous- ness ; I am red with the flush of health ; with my odor, with my loveliness, all are intoxicated ; I nestle m the bosom of beauty and I am the symbol of love ; my beauty speaks for me. Do I need to trace my lineage ? " I came of nectar spilled from heaven. Love, who bore the celes- tial vintage, tripped a wing and overset the vase ; and the nectar, spilling on the valleys of the earth, bubbled up in roses." There is so much to say about the rose that it were more satisfactory to recommend the reader to peruse the hundreds of monographs it has inspired than to attempt to allude to it within fftoo (Sfartren tfaborftes. 187 the confines of a few pages. The only way to do it justice is to begin at the beginning and treat it in all its phases of origin, history, culture, form, color, and fragrance. I imagine it would be delightful to study roses for a decade and then write a book. Even the subject of suitable manures would lose its taint if considered with reference to the rose. The species alone number upward of a hundred ; the varieties with their briefest possible descriptions would fjll a ponder- ous folio. Of teas alone there are several thou- sands ; of hybrid perpetuals or remontants there is almost as great a multitude as the daffodils Wordsworth saw dancing by the shore of Ulls- water. An astronomer it would require to count them ; a Symonds to depict their colors. The rose, like the lily, will not grow itself, not- withstanding its hardy species are far less fas- tidious with regard to soil and climate. As the price of its beauty it requires care, if not " eter- nal vigilance." It is like a fascinating woman whom every one admires and who graciously sub- mits to the attentions of all, to her own annoy- ance and discomfort. Thus, Madame de Coigny, becoming tired of the attentions bestowed upon her, one day had a signet engraved of a rose besieged by insects, with the motto - This it is to be a Rose. 1 88 2Tf)e CSarTJcn's Storn. The first leaves have scarcely appeared ere they are beset by the thrip or rose-hopper, al- most immediately succeeded by the green fly, leaf-roller, rose-chafer, and rose-slug. Were the sparrow of any earthly use, he would not leave these to hellebore, whale-oil soap, and Paris green. Nearly any one of these pests, if left to itself, soon ruins the foliage or flow- ers. Undoubtedly the easiest way to cultivate roses is to buy them ; the next easiest way is to have a posse of gardeners whose sole purpose shall be to stand over them continually with wisp, bellows, and syringe. Indeed, it is far easier to study the lily and cajole its caprices than to escape the omnipresent thorn of the rose. There are roses without thorns as there is a bee without a sting ; but a thornless rose nearly al- ways means a rose without fragrance. But what loveliness it gives us to make up for its poutings — a dimple and a smile on every flower ! Who shall decide which rose is the type of beauty or say which is the sweetest ? Can there be anything more beautiful than a Marechal Niel ? Is any rose finer than the combination of buff and peach-blow and salmon in the fragrant folds of a Gloire de Dijon ? Is Louis Van Houtte or Marie Rady the sweeter flower, and are either of these as sweet as La France or Souvenir de la ©farUen JFaborftes. 189 Malmaison ? And are these in turn as delicious as the little violet-scented white Banksia or the pungent breath of the white-clustered multiflora? Who shall choose between Marshall P. Wilder, Marie Beaumann, and Alfred Colomb? And which is the more bewitching, Madame Gabriel Luizet in her dress of pink Chambray, or Mabel Morrison in her cool white lawn? Which do you prefer, the old-fashioned climbers smothered in rosy bloom, or the mass of the Persian's beaten gold? Can you decide between a pink Bon Silene and a moss-rose wet with dew ? Would you leave out the pasonia-flowered Paul Neyron for Madame the Countess of Serenye? And which is the more desirable in autumn, the colored hips of the dog-rose or the late-blossom- ing Marguerite de St. Amande? Then the white Rosa rugosa, the sweet-brier, the little Pacquerettes, the Noisettes, the Ayrshires, the Bourbons, the Chinas, the Boursaults, the dam- asks, the Provence, the Scotch, and the hosts of hybrids. Which is my favorite in the hardy rose-gar- den ? I have tried for many years to decide, and if pressed hard for an answer I think I should name Marie Rady, although not a few of the varieties I have specified and some I have not mentioned approach it very closely in the 1 90 5Ct)e ©fatfjen's attributes which go to form a perfect rose. It is an ideal rose in form, color, fragrance, and foliage when well grown, perhaps not quite as free blooming as one might wish, and possibly more satisfactory as a budded plant than when grown on its own roots. I know of no rose more rose-like in its large, full, vermilion-crimson flower, its full, delicious perfume, its red-thorned shoots, and free, lustrous foliage. But some like the brunettes and some the blondes. Both are beautiful, unless it be the type which loses its color with the first hot sun. Of course, there are many species which are not sufficiently hardy for the garden ; but there still remain enough to puzzle any one to choose from. Some one has said that roses in a garden are preferable to a garden of roses, the latter at times affording little poetry or pleasure compared with a few roses here and there in a garden. An ad- mirable plan, I think, is to plant enough of good forms and colors in the flower-borders ; of Per- sians in the shrubberies ; of climbers on the walls and pillars and trellises, and of all desirable hardy kinds in the kitchen-garden to cut from ; and ever, and still ever, when wet with morning dew — Gather ye rose-buds while ye may, Young June is still a-flying. tOarm-tOeatljer fa)isbotn. Gods grant or withhold it, your ''yea" and your "nay" Are immutable, heedless of outcry of ours: But life is worth living, and here we would stay For a house full of books, and a garden of flowers. ANDREW LANG— BALLADE OF TRUE WISDOM. VIII. WARM-WEATHER WISDOM. HE intense heat and long-continued dry weather are telling upon the flowers, and, at present, watering is the most important of garden tasks. Vainly have the hair-bird and tree-toad portended rain. It is one of the dry spells when all weather signs fail. The garden-hose, however persistently applied, only partially supplies the deficiency. The only thing that sounds cool is the plaint of the mourn- ing-dove from the depths of the thicket and the humming of bees in the lime. Even the swal- lows seem to fly less swiftly and the butterflies pass by less buoyantly. It is the sort of weather to reread the " Castle of Indolence " or the " Mid- summer-Night's Dream." Some one should make out a list of books for reading during the reign of the dog-star. I should recommend, be- sides numerous volumes I have previously al- 194 2n>e eSarden's luded to, such books as these as a sort of mental julep to sip when the thermometer is in the nineties : " The Unknown River," " The Life of the Fields," " I go a-Fishing," " Rambles among the Hills," " A Year among the Trees," " Wai- den," "Wind-Voices," "A History of Cham- pagne." There is no end of cooling literary beverages, volumes that one can take up and skim through, Bulwer to the contrary notwith- standing, that reading without purpose is saun- tering, not exercise — a winter rather than a sum- mer maxim. " The Haunted House " is cooling, and " In Memoriam " is nice to dive in. A fresh breeze blows perpetually from the " Penseroso " ; " The Faerie Queen " is cool reading, and so is " The Plea of the Midsummer Fairies." All the noted sonnets on sleep are cool. Dobson or Lang ought to collect them in book-form between snow-white covers for hot- weather use. I re- member a " Phantom Ship " (not Hamilton's sonnet) which used to provoke a cold shudder ; but it is so long since, I have forgotten the au- thorship. There is also a " Phantom Fisher " somewhere in British verse — a spectral angler who draws ghostly trout from haunted shal- lows; and Whittier, besides the "Dead Ship of Harpswell " — " the ghost of what was once a 195 ship " — has a phantom " Farm-House," wraith of a dead home. But, cooler than all of these, or any chill-provoking verse I recollect, is Til- ton's " Phantom Ox," a rendition of the old Swabian superstition that a specter in the form of a white ox glides through the villages and farms, and that any person on whom he breathes at once sickens and dies. A little child, fright- ened in from his play, tells his mother, with blanched cheek and trembling lip, how, while wading along the brook in quest of lilies, a ghostly ox came down to drink. Through his body the trees, meadow-grass, and stones showed as through a crystal glass : He wandered round, and wherever he went He stepped with so light a tread, No harebell under his hoof was bent, No violet bowed its head. He cast no shadow upon the ground, No image upon the stream ; His lowing was fainter than any sound That ever was heard in a dream. " I quivered and quaked in every limb ! I knew not whither to flee ; The further away I shrank from him, The nearer he came to me. "»' My handful of lilies he sniffed and smelt ; His breath was chilly and fresh ; 196 ffjje ^Garten's His horns, as they touched me softly, felt Like icicles to my flesh. ; I rushed through the water across the brook, And high on the shelving shore I stopped and ventured to turn and look, In hope to see him no more. ; He walked in my wake on the top of the flood, And followed me up the bank ! A blast from his nostrils froze my blood ! My spirit within me sank I 1 I hid in the reeds, O mother dear, But swift as a whiff of air He followed me there ! he followed me here ! — He follows me everywhere ! ' Oh, frown at him, frighten him, drive him away He's coming in at the door ! " And down fell the lad in a swoon, and lay At his mother's feet on the floor. The mother looked round her, dazed and dumb, She saw but the empty air, Yet knew if the Phantom Ox had come, The shadow of Death was there. She caught the pallid boy to her breast, And pillowed him on his bed ; The white-eyed moon kept watch in the west ; The beautiful child lay dead ! * * Theodore Tilton, " Swabian Stories." 197 This is as powerful as the "Erlking," and it deserves a place as a companion -piece to Schu- bert's grand rendition of the German lyric. Doctors in summer should prescribe a light literary course, tonic rather than stimulating, not only to the weak-kneed, but the robust as well — on the same principle that salads, cooling vegetables, and dainty entrees are craved by the stomach during the tyranny of Sirius. I would fur- ther proscribe heating music : Strauss's waltzes, Von Weber's " Invitation to the Dance," Men- delssohn's " Wedding March," even Beetho- ven's " Adelaide," are entirely out of place during the heated term. Rather let us listen to the solemn chords of the "Dead March in Saul," the "Lacrymosa" of the "Requiem," the sob- bing of the " Serenade." The worst of existing hot-weather customs is that of sending bills in July. A law should be passed rendering this an indictable offense, if, withal, creditors should not be compelled to de- duct a liberal percentage from all accounts fall- ing due during the summer solstice. Planchet's motto, " Laissons faire etnedisons rz'en," is a good one for summer, and preferable to D'Artagnan's, " Fatsons bien et laissons dire" Happy in July is the man on the sea-shore ! How refreshing it is to get it all wet on one side 198 &i)e eSarten's Stot». of you, to have the ocean-breeze spraying you all the way in from the horizon, and to know the privilege of bathing with your lobster before eating him ! Under the lime-tree's shadow I find the cool- est place of the garden. Is it due altogether to the shade, or partially to the myriad insect wings hovering unceasingly over the blooms above me ? The ferns in the fernery near by look cool. Does a fern ever look otherwise than cool, and is not green always the coolest of colors ? Cool are the lilac-scented white stars of the partridge- vine, almost covering its deep - green leaves. Cool, too, are the aspens on the hill-side which the wind visits when he passes by all other trees. And are not the tall, wild lilies cooled by their fluttering whorls ? Despite their warm color, somehow their red Turk's - caps do not look warm, whereas the brick-red of the meadow- lily and the live coals of the scarlet martagon do in comparison. The wild lilies are now mostly in full vermilion bud and flower, some of them rising six feet high amid the ferns. The sight of their great candelabras of from six to a dozen flowers more than atones for the sting of the nettles and the labor of extracting their brittle rhizomes from the network of roots amid which they were entangled. Jlffstiom. 199 I thought the bouquet of the wild grape the most delicious breath of June ; but now beneath the lime-tree's shade, lulled by the drowsy mur- mur of the bees, there seems no summer odor quite so fresh and uncloying as that of the blos- soming lime. No wonder the honey probed from its scented cymes in the Lithuanian forests rivals that of Mount Hymettus thyme and is considered " the finest in the world." The lime, a summer home of murmurous wings, sings Tennyson. It is a very Mecca for the bees, and rivals its near neighbor, the Japanese honeysuckle, in the numbers of insects it at- tracts. What a motley throng of pilgrims are drawn to its nectar-laden shrine ! Can it be the sweetness of its sap, which yields a sirup simi- lar to the sugar-maple, that the ants and borers seek beneath its rind, eventually splitting the bark and destroying the tree ? I believe this is peculiar to the European lime when grown in this country. De Gelien observes : " Many are fond of bees ; I never knew any one who loved them indifferently — on se passionne pour elles ! " The ancients were good bee-masters, in proof of which it may be cited that the Greeks had three terms at least for the different qualities of propo- lis or bee-gum — irpvno\is, K6fj.fj.axns, and TTUTO-O- fffje €5arten's Storg. The mead or metheglin of Shakespeare, the drink of the ancient Britons and Norsemen, and a favorite of Queen Bess, is very plausible, if not true, from the Greek, pedv atyX^ei/. Who- ever is interested in bees will have read the fourth Georgic, and pondered the rules laid down by Butler. A better bear and bee story than that contained in " Reynard the Fox " is related by Butler, the raconteur being Deme- trius, a Muscovite ambassador sent to Rome : " A neighbor of mine," said he, " searching in the woods for honey, slipped down into a great hollow tree, and there sunk into a lake of honey up to the breast, where, when he had stuck fast two days, calling and crying out in vain for help (because nobody in the mean while came nigh that solitary place)— at length, when he was out of all hope of life, he was strangely delivered by means of a great bear, which, com- ing thither about the same business that he did, and smelling the honey (stirred with his striving), clambered up to the top of the tree, and thence began to let himself down backward into it. The man, bethinking himself, and knowing that the worst was but death (which in that place he was sure of), beclipt the bear fast with both his hands about the loins, and withal made an out- cry as loud as he could. The bear, being thus suddenly affrighted (what with the handling and what with the noise), made up again with all speed possible ; the man held and the bear pulled, until with main force he had drawn Dun out of the mire j and then, being let go, away he trots, more afeared than hurt, leaving the smeared swain in a joyful fear." Scarcely less amusing is Butler's account of honey as a medicine, or his directions to avoid being stung by bees. They are as quaint as some of Walton's passages, or the directions by other old masters of the line for capturing a wary tenant of the stream. Walton has con- tributed one of the best mots that has appeared, on the frog : the instruction he gives Venator for baiting a hook with a live batrachian, which he commands him to use " as if he loved him, that he may live the longer." This is almost as realistic as another injunction by a Michael An- gelo of the piscatory art, mentioned by Jesse, who would have a frog attached " to a goose's foot, in order to see, good halynge, whether the goose or the pyke shall have the better." Still another master of the antique school, speaking of the best bait for a pike, exclaims, with an en- thusiasm for his art not to be met with in these degenerate days : " But the yellow frog, of all frogs, brings him to hand, for that's his dainty 15 ?T!)e ©fartien's Storj. and select diet, wherein Nature has placed such magical charms that all his powers can never resist them, if fastened on the hook with that exactness, that his life may shine, and the bait seem undeprived of natural motion." When Theocritus sang, " Sweet is the life of frogs," he little thought of the pike, and the use the classic Rana would be put to by the modern angler. I think these old angling authors should be read during a midsummer drought — their stories are so cool, and ripple from their quills so sponta- neously: In connection with bees and insects, Jesse himself provokes a smile when he declares that, together with wasps and bumble-bees, the hor- net "may be perfectly managed. . . . Two or three whiffs of tobacco-smoke, used as a fumi- gator, with a rose-nozzle— a very small one, that can be held between the teeth, is large enough — will instantly tranquillize all such insects, and render them quite harmless as to their sting ; making them appear as if they had forgotten they possessed such formidable weapons. . . . The sting of a wasp is the least painful of all," he paradoxically continues ; " the sting of a hornet I have never felt, nor that of the largest bumble-bee." But Jesse is not often caught napping, despite this paradox and his 203 itinerant fumigator. It is, nevertheless, to be regretted that he thus deliberately denied himself the pleasure of a sensation which every one ought to experience at least once in a lifetime. I consider Dr. Talmage a better authority than Jesse — he has felt the hornet's sting. I did not know him as an entomologist until he preached his sermon on " Stinging Annoyances," from the text, Deuteronomy vii, 20, " The Lord thy God will send the hornet." How vividly he describes him ! " It is a species of wasp, swift in its motion and violent in its sting. Its touch is torture to man and beast. We have all seen the cattle run bellowing from the touch of its lancet. In boyhood we used to stand cautiously looking at the circular nest hung from the tree- branch, and, while we were looking at the won- derful pasteboard covering, we were struck with something that sent us shrieking away ! " The hornet is used as a simile for the stinging vexations of life which beset mankind in a thou- sand forms. If Talmage had a garden, he would see a swarm of hornets in the rose-pests, the dry weather, the overplus of rain, the plant- staking, the weeds, his dandelioned neighbors, the east wind, before which all plants must bow and many break. Indeed, he refers to the hor- net as visiting us in the shape of friends and ac- 204 2T1)e (Kartell's Storj. quaintances who are always saying disagreeable things, and selects him as the type of the insect- ile annoyances of the world — these foes, too small to shoot, that are ever puncturing us one way or another. The Colorado beetle, the cur- culio, the locust, the Western grasshopper, the slug, the aphides, the currant-worm, the cod- ling-moth, are all hornets in disguise. Perhaps the parson's solution, that the hornet is sent to " culture our patience," is the most rational one yet assigned for his existence. And yet the hornet is useful in another way, in feeding his young with the soft parts of other insects, in- cluding mosquitoes, which are thus largely de- stroyed. The honey-bee is the most frequent among the insect visitors to the blossoms overhead, though the gnats and flies are also numerously present, banqueting on the sweets. I see vari- ous bumble-bees, wasps, and hornets as well, the former being the most numerous, after the honey-bees. From all of these many wings there arises a soothing, sonorous murmur of industry, a humming as from a vast hive. It is one of the sweetest of Nature's voices ; less ethereal but not unlike the aerial music which one sometimes pauses to hear near woods and streams at this season. After Beethoven re- BWfstiom. 205 turned from wandering about a wood near Vien- na, where he listened long to this aerial melody, he composed the grand Pastoral Symphony. This same sound puzzled the Selborne rector, in the Money-dells, over a century ago. Did this not also suggest the sound — That sometimes murmur'd overhead, And sometimes underground, of Hood's " Elm-Tree " — Hood's lines being de- scriptive of the characteristic rising and falling of this woodland voice ? I remember hearing it repeatedly, years since, on still, hot days, in a small copse on a high ele- vation ; and on revisiting the locality, recently, the same mysterious music followed me through the wood. Who are the performers of this gos- samer-spun sound, this invisible harpsichord, this elfin music of the air ? I have not seen a cause ascribed to it by the naturalists, though, it would seem, it must proceed from the trembling wings of myriads of midges, engaged in the dance of rivalry and love. Swinton's exhaustive volume on " Insect Variety," which treats so fully of the noises and dances of insects, throws no new light on the subject. Insects, and the swallows who pursue them, soar higher as the temperature becomes hotter ; and it is, therefore, 206 2Tt)e Barton's * (Kartell's Storg. Only through experimenting, however, can one determine what to attempt and what to avoid. Of the Diervillas, or Wetgelas, many of the so-termed rose-colored kinds, I think, are to be avoided. The nurserymen's catalogues swarm with the many varieties of this shrub. The typ- ical color—" rose "—is poor, and I should con- demn the Weigela as a garden shrub were it limited to its commoner form. The white va- rieties, on the contrary, are desirable, and so are some of the dark reds, which are not fre- quently seen. A clear, rose-colored variety, re- cently introduced under the name of " Othello," is an exception to the typical rose-color, and is possessed of much merit. The dark form, " Jean Mace," lately sent out, is distinct, its long, tubu- lar, maroon flowers being specially striking in the bud stage. " Edouard Andre " and " Laval- lei " are among the best of the dark hybrids, but the latter has a straggling habit. Most of the Weigelas are apt to grow straggling with age — an objectionable feature of the genus. The Hibiscus, althaea, or rose of Sharon, is a charming adjunct to the shrubbery — neat in form, free-flowering, and always gay during late summer and September, when the shrubbery begins to look dull, and the sad-voiced crickets remind one that the floral beauty of the year has antr dfmfcers. 235' begun to wane. Both the double and single forms are fine ; and the white and flesh-tints, with their distinct dark eyes, are the most pleas- ing colors. The purples and violet-reds are for the most part objectionable. " Painted Lady," the name of one of the varieties, well describes the lively flower of the althaea. The variegated- leaved* variety. is one of the finest variegated- leaved shrubs. Hydrangea pantculata grandiflora, the great - flowered hydrangea, is a splendid late- flowering shrub, with its immense panicles and changeable shades, and it should enliven every garden in September. Nor should the early white-flowering Exochorda, the fragrant white upright honeysuckles, the sweet-scented Caly- canthus, and the Colutea, or bladder-senna, at- tractive for its reddish seed-pods, be overlooked in the collection of shrubs. Besides the flowering species, there are many shrubs which deserve a place on account of pe- culiar habit, characteristic foliage, or colored fruit. Of shrubs with dark-colored foliage, the purple-leaved barberry, purple-leaved plum, and many of the dwarf Japanese maples, may be specified. Of shrubs with variegated foliage, there are several varieties of the shrubby dog- wood ; several of the Weigelas ; the silver- "236 Wbe CSartien's Stor». leaved Corchorus ; the white-edged and golden privets ; the golden syringa ; the variegated- leaved elders ; the variegated St. Peter's-wort ; the variegated althaea. Numerous shrubs, also, are valuable for their ornamental fruit, which succeeds the flowers. In this class the fol- lowing are all excellent : The common bar- berry, with scarlet and violet fruit in Septem- ber; the red dogwood, with white berries in September ; the red- and the white-fruited Eu- onymus ; the red-fruited Cotoneaster ; the Cor- nelian cherry, with its large and showy red fruit in August ; Elaagnus edulis, with red, cherry- like fruit in midsummer ; the red-berried Vibur- num opulus and black-berried lantanoides ; the black-fruited elder ; and the snowberry. There are, moreover, many trees and shrubs, beauti- ful for their autumnal coloring, which should be remembered ; these will be referred to in a subsequent chapter. No garden is complete — if a garden can ever be complete — without its flowering climbers. Even the kitchen-garden should have its scarlet pole-beans, and the front veranda, at least, be festooned with blossoming vines. But there are so many desirable sorts, that all suitable places about the house and grounds should be utilized, to enjoy as many of them as possible. The wis- anU ®lfmters. 237 taria alone holds a whole summer of fragrance in its June cascade of bloom. Those who care for variety have a number of kinds to choose from, though none equals the robust, hardy, and free-flowering Chinese blue. It is at home in any exposure, and only needs support to a suffi- cient height to prove one of the finest ornaments of the garden. By planting it on the north and on the south side of the house, its flowering period may be greatly extended, a vine placed in the former position coming into bloom just as one in a southern exposition is passing. The numerous species and varieties of vir- gin's-bower, or Clematis, are beautiful for veran- da and trellis decoration, as well as for fence- screens, for pillars along garden-walks, and for training on walls and arbors. Few hardy plants afford such combined beauty, luxuriance, and continuous bloom. For a full description of its hundred species and varieties, the reader should consult Moore and Jackman's " Clematis as a Garden Flower," the most comprehensive trea- tise on the subject. Of the several types, the 'Jackmannt and Viticella are the most gener- ally seen— the common Jackmannz, all things considered, being the most satisfactory repre- sentative of the genus ; these flower during sum- mer and autumn in continuous masses on sum- 238 JJCije ffinrten's mer shoots. The Lanuginosa type, of which the white C. Henryi is the finest example, flow- ers during the summer and autumn succession- ally on short lateral summer shoots ; flowers dis- persed. The Vtticella type, represented by C. v. venosa, C. v. modesta, etc., blossoms in the summer and autumn, successionally, in masses, on summer shoots. The Graveolens type, flow- ering on the young growing summer wood, some of which are odorous, comprises a series of hardy, fast-growing species of easy culture. The Montana, Patens, and Florida types blos- som on the old wood, and include the earliest or spring-flowering divisions of the family. The Patens type has supplied a large number of va- rieties, some of which are sweet-scented. To this section belong the fine, large varieties, Edith Jackson, Fair Rosamond, Miss Bateman, and others. In whatever form or color it occurs, whether appearing in sheets of purple, like Jackmanm' or Alexander, or wreathing a road- side hedge with white garlands, like our native virgin 's-bower, the clematis is a flower which always claims our admiration. Most of the clematis are easily grown in rich, deep, friable loam, and should be mulched with old manure in winter, and given abundance of water during dry weather. Partial shade 'serves Sfjrufts anto Climbers. 239 to develop the color and size of the flowers. English growers advise that the clematis be richly manured; some American growers, that it must not have manure about the roots. In any event, the best results are obtained by plant- ing it in new soil, in partial shade. Not unfre- quently the roots of many of the clematis be- come infested with a grub, which forms knobs along the fleshy roots, often impairing the vital- ity of the plant. A species of blight also attacks it sometimes, causing the plant to die down, but apparently not injuring it below the surface. The clematis is of comparatively recent intro- duction to this country, but has already become, through one of its types, at least — Jackmanni — the most popular, perhaps, of climbing flowering plants. It is well that no one flower combines every quality, and that the more conspicuous forms of the clematis are odorless. Were this not the case, it would be planted still more extensively, and we should lose much of the variety which other climbers contribute. Showy as it is, it can not take the place of the climbing rose, the joy of many an arbor and veranda ; or the honey- suckle, sweet as its mellifluous name. The lat- ter is an old favorite, and one that no other flow- ering vine can well surpass. Attractive in all its 240 2TDe ^Garten's Storn. forms, the recently introduced Japanese species, Lonicera Halleana, is its most beautiful repre- sentative for the veranda, arbor, trellis, or wall. This, though comparatively little known in Eu- rope, is widely disseminated with us, where it was first introduced with the beautiful Japanese Magnolia Halleana, by Dr. Hall, of Elmira. I know of no climber that combines so many good qualities ; for, independent of its vigorous growth and prodigality of fragrant white blos- soms, it would be beautiful for its dark-green evergreen foliage, which it retains during a great portion of the winter. With honeysuckles, as with many other things, however, absolute perfection is seldom found in a single variety or individual. While this species is as yet without insect-enemies, and is unquestionably hardy, it is nevertheless liable, even after having passed unscathed through sev- eral severe winters, to die down suddenly in spring, apparently from the effects of the cold. This is the case mostly with old plants, and I am not certain whether it is entirely a matter of climate, or whether it is not due partly to its habit of twining so closely as to strangle itself. But it is so rapid a grower that plants are soon replaced, and its odor is so delicious and its blooming period so continuous, that it is worth Sftrubs anto dtlfmbers. 241 having at any pains. Its fragrant white flowers, passing to yellow, are, as previously stated, a powerful magnet to the bees and honey-seeking insects. The green leaf-cricket loves its shady tangle, and I always hear his first ode to autumn among its leaves. The long spur, recurved pet- als, and feathery stamens, characteristic of the honeysuckle, are seen to advantage in numerous other species, the next best to Halleana being the monthly fragrant, or Dutch, a vigorous climb- er, with red and yellow, fragrant flowers appear- ing all summer. The Japanese golden-leaved variety is handsome, with its foliage netted or variegated with yellow. For pillars and arbors, the native trumpet- flower ( Tecoma radicans), and its darker form, T. r. var. atrosanguinea, are valuable climbing shrubs, becoming picturesque with age. The large, vivid red, tubular flowers in clusters are very conspicuous, showing well from a distance, where it may be placed to the best advantage as a pillar-plant. Acttmdta polygamia is a hand- some Japanese climbing plant, with dark, clean foliage resembling that of the apricot. Its flow- ers are white, with a purple center, and some- times cover the whole vine, the fruit being round, edible, and fine-flavored. Other hardy flowering climbers which may be specified are 242 2Tt)c ©far&en's .Storj. Akebta quinata, a singular Japanese climbing shrub, with fine foliage, purple flowers, and ornamental fruit ; the large-leaved native climb- ing staff-tree (Celastrus scandens), with yellow flowers and clusters of orange-capsuled fruit ; the moonseed (Menispermum Canadense), a na- tive, twining, slender-branched shrub, bearing small yellow flowers and black berries ; the silk- vine {Pertploca Grcecd), a handsome, fast-grow- ing European climber, with glossy foliage and purple-brown axillary clusters of flowers. The native wild bean (Apios tuberosa) is a small- growing vine, with racemes of reddish-brown, fragrant flowers, recalling the perfume of vio- lets, which is best left to twine around the royal fern, with which it is almost always found in company. 3n anb ont of tl)e (Ewrben. THE summer's flower is to the summer sweet, Though to itself it only live and die. SONNET XCIV. Not only the days but life itself lengthens in summer. I would spread abroad my arms and gather more of it to me could I do so. RICHARD JEFFERIES, THE LIFE OF THE FIELDS. XL IN AND OUT OF THE GARDEN. MUCH-NEEDED rain has come at last — a steady, drenching, searching rain ; a freshening, quickening, revivi- fying rain — a rain that has oozed down to the bot- tom, that has loosened the soil and cleansed the foliage, and sought out every root and rootlet beneath the ground. Light showers are of little service in time of drought ; they are like the efforts of the garden-hose, and have no lasting effect. The colors of the flowers have come out with renewed intensity, and there is a marked increase in the luster of the foliage. The lark- spurs are as brilliantly blue as the sky above them, and the scarlet lychnis (L. chalcedonica) burns as intensely as the setting sun. This is one of the most dazzling summer flowers; a single bloom of it, when well grown, will show its color to advantage. It is one of those peren- 246 5Ti)e ©farten's Stotj. nials that may be dotted here and there in the border ; its scarlet is so strong, it does not require to be planted in masses. This varies somewhat in the size of its flower-heads and the intensity of its hue according to the soil and the season. The same observation holds good with very many subjects, that some years prove extremely satisfactory and again are disappointing. A thorough rain at the right time does wonders toward heightening the hues of flowers; and cool weather is everything in holding the color of many subjects. Certain varieties of roses which faded rapidly one season, and which I had condemned on that account, I have found, an- other season, when the weather was favorable, entirely satisfactory. So that it is not always possible to judge of the merits of a flower from a single season's experience. Neither can one expect that a species which is desirable in one place will invariably prove so in another — so much depends on climate, soil, and the caprice of the weather. A fine contrast to the scarlet lychnis, besides the larkspurs, roses, excelsum and candidum lilies, is Chrysanthemum maximum, a grand, hardy Marguerite, which has large white daisy- like flowers, with yellow centers, on stiff stalks. The narrow notched leaves are of a deep green, JJn an'D out of tfje (Sartien. 247 the foliage abundant, and the plant of elegant habit. Bupthalmum cordifolium, the European ox-eye, is a stout perennial with large leaves, that opens its yellow blossoms the latter part of June, soon after Anthemis tinctoria. It is far too coarse to take the place of Coreopsis lanceo- lata, and is most suitable for the rear, or the wild garden. Many of the Centaureas, the plant which cured the foot of Chiron, wounded by the arrow of Hercules, are valuable border-plants. The large blue flowers of C. montana appear early in June. This is not so neat in habit as some ; but its blue is beautiful and the flowers charming in the cut stage. The flower of C. Ruthentica ap- pears on a very tall stalk, rising high above the somewhat sparse foliage, shortly after the ap- pearance of C. montana. The single blooms are large, but they only hold their color and fresh- ness for a day or two. C. macrocephala is a robust, thick-foliaged species, with large bright- yellow flower-heads ; and, while showy as a border-plant, it is not as fine as C. glastifolta, a more elegant plant, which succeeds it. I think this the finest of the large species, crowned in July with a perfect mass of golden bloom on branched stalks four to five feet high. The sil- 248 STfje CSfartien's Storj. very buds themselves are handsome for several weeks before they open. C. dealbata, an earlier species from the Caucasus, is a medium-sized plant, with silvery foliage and pretty rose-purple flowers. The Persian sweet-sultan (C. moscha- ta), though an annual, is always worth the trou- ble of growing. One of the largest-leaved perennials is the great groundsel (Senecio macrophylld), the leaves of which attain an immense size in shade, but as yet I have been unable to cause it to flower ; the leaves wither quickly in the sun, and it is also very sensitive to dry weather. S. pulcher, a very late species, bears large purplish blossoms, with yellow centers, a handsome and distinct flower, the best of its tribe. Scabiosa Caucasica is by far the best of its section of the teasel family, and, being a perennial, is more valuable than the biennial S. atropurpurea, also a handsome flower. When grown in congenial soil the for- mer is a beautiful medium-sized border-plant, its large, flat lavender flowers being very distinct, and gracefully placed on tall stems. In specifying Lychnis chalcedonica as one of the most dazzling reds, I meant no reflection on the scarlet avens or Geum. It has as bright an eye as a rabbit ; at least, it is as red as a rab- bit's eye. An inhabitant of the Bithynian Mount En anli out of tlje {ffiartien. 249 Olympus, its single is beautiful, and its double doubly so, as it remains so much longer in per- fection. The Japanese Veronica longifolia sub- sessilts, a midsummer flower of recent introduc- tion, is unquestionably the finest herbaceous speedwell. Its flower is a lovely deep blue, and its foliage handsome. It is in all respects a su- perior border-plant ; this species, however, does not make seed. Where the climate suits it, the large horse- mint (Monarda didymd), one of the best of the big labiates and the finest of the genus, is a valu- able garden-flower. The leaves possess a strong mint-like odor, and the dark red of its flowers is striking. It is apt to encroach upon its neigh- bors, however, and requires abundant moisture. This species is said to give a decoction but little inferior to the true tea, and was formerly largely used as a substitute in Pennsylvania. There are numerous species of the Stattce, or sea-lavender, the best of which is S. latifolia. The Stattce is invaluable for bouquets, and should be in every garden for cutting, to employ in the old-fashioned nosegay. One sometimes becomes tired of the regulation bouquet, composed of a single flower, and then the Stattce helps one out. I see it now, its feathery sprays rising above the sweet-smelling nosegay composed of car- 18 250 2TDe CSfarTren's Storg. nations, mignonette, feverfew, bachelor-buttons, Iceland poppies, pinks, larkspurs, sweet-will- iams, and lemon-verbena. There should always be plenty of these old-fashioned flowers to cut from. The grand inflorescence of the chestnut-trees on the hill-side is mostly past — not, however, be- fore the cicada rings out his song of heat. I in- variably hear his first overture while the chestnut is still in bloom. I love his magnificent cres- cendo. How broad his diapason, and how so- norous the mighty volume of sound ! It is the most fervid of all summer sounds, this ringing expression of drought and heat, produced by the hind-legs with which he leaps, said Aristotle two thousand years ago. It is pleasant to know, according to another classic — Zenachus — that the cicadas live happily, since they all have voice- less wives ; the two drums on either side of the body under the wings not existing in the female. The cicada's song brings up Meleager and The- ocritus, the classic cicada, I believe, being a spe- cies of Tettix or harvest-fly, erroneously termed "locust." Independent of entomological accu- racy, cicada is the preferable name ; it has a drier and more sibilant sound. Virgil's cicadas are guerulce and rauccz ; Martial's, argutce and inhuman®. In the " Anthologia," on the other En anfc out of tfje ffifafben. 251 hand, they are always sweet singers. Meleager's cicada is a Charmer of longing — counselor of sleep ! — The corn-field's chorister Whose wings to music whir. Theocritus can only find in the cicada a minstrel sweet enough to compare with the song of Thyrsis : For sweeter, shepherd, is thy charming song, Than ev'n cicadas sing the boughs among. There is much of the delightful old Hellenic philosophy in Thoreau's sentence : " The things immediate to be done are very trivial ; I could postpone them all to hear this locust's song." I find the cicada somewhat like the rain — there is always an interval between the first drops and the down-pour, as there is between the first warning of the Tettix and his subsequent chorus of heat. The grasshopper and cricket have but just begun their song in faint, quavering notes, which they will increase with the advance of the season, and the male green leaf-cricket is voiceless as yet on the honeysuckle-vine. These will atone ere long for the silence of the birds whose voices fail as the insect stridulation gathers force. On sandy banks the butterfly-weed (Asdepias 252 £f>e CSfarlren's Storg. tuberosa) was gay a fortnight since with orange corymbs. It is among the brightest of summer flowers and the most brilliant of the extensive milkweed tribe that crowds and perfumes the waste places during summer. Leaving the sandy places where it grows, I find the wild rose still in blossom. How full the aroma held by its few single pink petals — a freshness and pungency its cultivated sisters do not possess for all their double cups and titled names ! In the swamp further on, where virgin's - bower and purple nightshade wreath their festoons, there streams a veritable sunset of color. The gorgeous car- dinal-flower {Lobelia cardinalis) is in full pano- ply of bloom — the most vivid red of the year, a red that seems endowed with conscious life, so glowing is its fire. Growing near it I find the great blue lobelia (L. syphiliticd), a conspicuous flower, and more rarely its white form, with an occasional plant of the fragrant snake -head (Chelone glabra). Something fascinating there is about a swamp — its rare flora, its gloom in daylight, its fresh- ness in drought, its ever-present mystery. You can not grasp it as you can the dry woodland. The very birds are evasive, and its flora leads one deeper and deeper into the tangle where the woodcock springs from the thickets of jewel- Kn anto out of tjje ffiarten. 253 weed and the owl skims noiselessly from his twi- light haunt. The plaintive cry of the veery from the tree-tops above only serves to emphasize its silence, while the scream of its warder, the blue jay, seems its voice speaking to the solitude. I usually find what might be termed a foot-path threading a swamp, not always readily discerni- ble, but sufficiently marked to make it appear a foot-path, the highway of the hares and wild animals. These resort to it not only for food and water, but for warmth and security. The hibernating birds turn to it instinctively and seek it for their winter quarters. The swamp is Nature's sanctuary — the great gamekeeper and game-protector. It is the ram- part of the landscape. Within its sheltering arms is nurtured the most beautiful of sylvan utterances, the roll-call of the ruffed grouse. Without its helping hand both furred and feath- ered game must in many localities become vir- tually exterminated, and a wood without game is a wood devoid of one of its most individual at- tributes. There is ever a charm in the elusive, the untamed in nature ; to have its wild animate forms about us, though we may only clasp the shadow. The trout-stream in its mazes through the woods possesses an additional voice and meaning to me for the radiant life that lurks 254 2C&* eSartren's Storj?. within its pools and shallows. I care less for the rod than to feel the rightful habitant is at home. The owl's weird cry borne upon the Decem- ber dusk without brings the wintry woods into my room — the rustle of dry beech-leaves, the breath of lichens and of pines. All Nature for the instant seems articulate in his cry. You may never meet the fox face to face unaided by the hounds ; but it is a satisfaction to know he is present. Keen of scent and fleet of foot he has passed long before you, evaded you ; yet he is there, somewhere, farther on amid the mystery and silence, in all his lissome grace and supple- ness of sinew. The very footprints of the hare recall the living presence of the hare, his wild beauty and his nimble speed. So that in a swamp or wood tenanted by game this fascination is ever present — the living unconfined creatures appearing a component part of the trees and un- dergrowth, with which they blend and become incorporated, just as the shadows belong to and accentuate the strength of the sun. So also in the garden copse, when the mold is starred with Hepatic as and Trilltums, the wild flowers are obliterated for the moment to me when a squir- rel barks or a white-throated sparrow sings. In the swamp, on blustering days without, I Jht anH out of tj)c ffiartoen. 255 see the downy woodpecker's scarlet coronet, his busy mallet beating its sonorous rat-tat-tat on hollow trees. I catch, too, the fine call-note of the little brown-creeper running up and down and around the limbs and tree-trunks in quest of his food, and hear the flute-like call of the tree- sparrow feeding on the spicy buds of the sweet birch. I mark the caressing " day, day, day " of the black-cap chickadees, happy in the cold and storm, while the solemn "yank, yank, yank" of the nut-hatch is never still. Leaving the woods proper on a windy winter's day, even a sheltered beech-wood where the clinging foliage of the beeches and hornbeams wards off the wind, there is an ever-fresh surprise in the absolute absence of wind and positive warmth of the swamp. Green as in midsummer are its club-mosses and evergreen ferns, and the goldthread, winter- green, and partridge-vine seem merely hibernat- ing beneath the snow. A temperature it pos- sesses of its own — cool in summer and warm in winter — and a flower I find cradled in its shade always appears to have gained in purity or re- finement of hue. Another shade-loving plant now passing out of blossom is the white swamp honeysuckle (Azalea viscosa), succeeding the pink A. nudi- flora, whose fragrant flower-clusters, exhaling 256 en&e €Jartoen's Storg. the characteristic honeysuckle odor, proclaim its presence. The tall red lilies along the edge of the swamp have long since made their summer display; but the fading flower - spikes of the greater orchid are still seen in low places just as the ladies-tresses are forming their flower-heads amid the meadow grasses. The spring beauty and Trillium have vanished from the woods, and Hepattcas and Violas are hidden by the stronger growing plants of midsummer. There is a crowd of tall evening primroses, white and purple Etipatoriums, pink Epilobiums, blue ver- vains, pale asters, yellow golden-rods, and heli- anthuses, all jostling and striving for supremacy. Growth is rank on every side. It is the seed- time and harvest of the big weeds, when the waste places become a veritable jungle, perilous and almost impassable to man and beast. It is the high carnival of sticktights, nettles, burdocks, briers, brambles, tares, thistles, teasels, and noli me tangeres innumerable, among which the true touch-me-not or jewel-weed least deserves its name, for there is nothing noxious about it or vicious in the strange bursting of its seed-pods at the touch, whence it derives its appellation. The sticktight, the tare, and the burdock are the true fiends incarnate among the sticking and stinging weeds. I revere the inventor of cordu- anto out of tfje ffifarfcen. 257 roy, the only coat of mail with which one can wade comparatively unscathed through the gant- let of these tramps and ruffians of the field. The everlasting is white with flower in the pastures, and on sunny upland slopes rank upon rank of mullein-spires tower above the carpet of fragrant pennyroyal. Along the water- courses Heliopsts Icevis has set its fringe of gold, visible from afar, the avant-courier of the pageant of autumn that will come in a tidal wave of color to brighten the declining year. You will pardon some obscurities, for there are more secrets in iny trade than in most men's. And yet not vol- untarily kept, but inseparable from its very nature. I would gladly tell all that I know about it, and never print " No admittance" on my gate.— THORKAU. XII. THE HARDY FERNERY. JHATEVER the garden may owe to hardy flowers, and however varied and attractive its collection of shrubs and trees, it would still be lacking in one of its great- est charms if deprived of ferns. They are the very quintessence of the woods, whether they rise to form a classic urn like the great ostrich, or quiver on ebon stems like the lovely maiden- hair. The very name has a fresh, fragile sound in any language — Ftlices, felct, fougtres, Farnen, ferns. The fern offers no excuse for not possessing flowers. Color, other than its in- finitely varied greens and the dark spore-cases underneath or on the margins of the fronds, would mar its beauty. Its green and its grace are its flower, and Nature wisely left it a flower- less plant, the embodiment of beauty in foliage. When well grown the fern carries its character- 262 Ebt ffiarHen's Storjj. istic tropical effect to the garden, and, once es- tablished, the hardy fernery may become one of the finest ornaments about the home. It is, however, seldom seen to good advantage under cultivation, for the simple reason that it is gen- erally left to take care of itself, a matter it is never called upon to do in its native state, where it is protected from wind, has its fronds moist- ened by condensation, and is provided with con- genial soil and coveted shade. The delicate beauty of a fern-frond can not be obtained out- side of its native habitat without in part repro- ducing the natural conditions under which it grows. Shade, shelter, moisture, and suitable soil are its main requirements. Some species, of course, occur naturally in sunshine and dry soil, and these may be grown under like conditions. The long period during which they retain the freshness of their fronds is a notable feature of the genus, while, whatever the season of the year, some of the species are found perennially green. Most hardy ferns are not difficult to cultivate, many being very accommodating and growing where little or nothing else would. Hot summers do not affect them disastrously as is the case with many plants, providing sufficient water be supplied at such times. On the north side of the house, beneath the JFernerg. 263 shade of non-surface-rooting trees and in low, moist positions, a very large number of hardy native species may be successfully grown. Not a few of the species, even those which naturally occur in shade, will do well in open places, though, except some of the sun-loving kinds, few will attain that luxuriance and delicacy of color they possess in shade or partial shade. A shady and sheltered position will, there- fore, be chosen for the hardy fernery ; for shelter from winds is no less important than protection from the direct rays of the sun. This position should be readily accessible to a fine dust-spray attached to the hose. Ferns are generally found in moist situations, thriving in a humid atmos- phere ; and these conditions must be followed as nearly as possible. But while ferns and moist- ure are almost synonymous, constant watering is, nevertheless, to be avoided. It is only when the soil is becoming dry, before the dryness is felt and shown by the sensitive fronds, that water- ing is necessary. The foliage of ferns does not like constant drenchings, pelting rains frequently being as injurious as severe winds. But the effects of wind are more severely felt where the plants do not receive their necessary supply of moisture, the stems becoming more brittle if the roots are not moist and cool. Watering the 264 &i)e eSarten's Storj. grass and the surroundings of the fernery in the evening, when the ferns themselves do not require watering, is appreciated by the plants, this tending to preserve a humid atmosphere. Watering a little every day or two merely keeps the surface damp, and does not reach the roots, or prevent the foliage from becoming dry. It is far better to give a good supply of water occa- sionally, as the plants require it ; an observation that will apply equally to most other hardy plants. Having chosen the position for the fernery, the ground should be dug to the depth of two feet, and filled in for the most part with black muck, leaf-mold, and a small portion of sandy loam. This gives a light, elastic soil, re- tentive of moisture and suitable for most ferns. The fernery is much benefited by a liberal top- dressing of old leaf-mold every autumn ; and, aside from the protection to some of the less hardy species, a thick winter covering of leaves and evergreen boughs is advisable, in order to prevent the heaving of the ground by frost. The common ostrich-fern (Onoclea struthtop- teris) is among the most robust and easily grown of the genus, which numbers in the United States some one hundred and sixty-one species, fifty of which are indigenous to the State of New York. On account of its strong growth and the iTerners. 265 frequency with which it throws out suckers from its rambling rhizomes, it is best placed by itself. Planted numerously with other species it soon crowds them, unless the suckers are checked. Few plants have a more tropical effect than this, a mass of it forming a grand feature of any gar- den. It is well and tersely described by Gray — " a fern of noble port." This does best in shade, but it may also be grown in sun. The royal fern (Ostminda regalis), which be- longs to the class of flowering ferns, is rarely seen to good advantage under cultivation. It is, likewise, one of the most robust of the genus, occurring naturally both in open sun and dense shade, but always in wet or moist situations. Perhaps there are none of the iSTge species whose color varies so much, the young plants, more especially in sunny situations, assuming varied shades of reddish-green. In rich, marshy places it frequently grows to a height of five feet. It is pre-eminently a bog-garden plant, where it may be grown as vigorous as it occurs naturally, the bronze and copper hues showing more boldly in open situations. A smaller form (O. gracilis) occurs, with broader foliage and more urn-shaped than the type. A very common fern, found in dry places, is another of- the same species, the interrupted 19 266 KDe Garten's flowering fern (O. Claytom'ana), interrupted near the center of the leaf-stalks by several pairs of fertile leaflets densely covered with brownish sporangia. This gives a rusty, unfinished look to the fronds, and for this reason it is undesira- ble for the fernery, and not to be compared with another of its family, the cinnamon-fern (O. cin- namomed). The yellowish fertile fronds of this, springing from the center of the plant, during its younger stage, are distinct and beautiful, while the species is a tall, robust grower. Perhaps the most distinct of native ferns is the sensitive fern (Onoclea sensibtlis), common to low woods and moist grounds. Aside from its striking peculiarity of foliage and its dark- colored spore-cases, its young fronds, through- out the summer, wear a lovely light-green hue possessed by no other member of the genus. The sensitive fern should be grown in shade, the fronds quickly becoming scorched by sun. It would impart a distinct appearance to the garden landscape grown en masse, being so rarely seen in gardens. It is one of the best ferns amid which to plant the tall wild red lilies. Owing to its being somewhat tardy to start into growth, the latter do not become choked, as they are by the more forward and ranker-growing os- trich. Barton Werners. 267 The common brake or bracken (Pteris aqui- lina), while distinct from the generality of ferns, is not worth cultivating, unless on the margins of woods, or places where little else will thrive. It spreads with great rapidity, and soon becomes a pest if placed among other ferns. The big moonwort (Botrychium virgtnicum), the largest of the species, differs essentially from most of the genus. It is termed " a beautiful fern," but does not show to advantage when planted with others of its tribe. The shield-ferns, or Aspidiece, number many of the noblest of hardy ferns. Of these, the de- ciduous A, aculeatum and A. Goldianum, the evergreen A. achrosticotdes, A. cristatum, A. filix-mas, A. margtnale, and A. spinulosum are among the finest, best known, and most easily grown. Nearly all of the species, what- ever their size, are delicately beautiful, the finely serrated plumes being a conspicuous character- istic. The woods where I find the ruffed grouse and the large white hares in winter would seem lonely without the freshness of the Christmas- fern and the perennial verdure of the evergreen wood-fern. The frost, whose sharp scythe has cut off the foliage and the flora, seems only to have brought out a richer green in these flower- less plants, that never look half so lovely as they 268 Wbe (Barton's -Storj?. do in winter. They seem the type of hardiness and longevity, and mask the loneliness of the leafless trees. Every one knows and admires the maiden- hair (Adtantum pedatuni), its fragile, polished stem supporting its delicate lace-work of foliage. Erroneously supposed to be difficult to cultivate, the maiden-hair, nevertheless, takes quite kindly to cultivation when placed amid congenial sur- roundings and allowed time to become estab- lished. Two among medium - sized ferns — Cystopterts fragilis and C. bulbifera — deserve a place on the front edge of the fernery. If the former has a fault, it is the early discoloration of the fine fronds. But it is one of the most grace- ful of its tribe, as well as one of the most for- ward to clothe with green the bases of trees in the woods of early spring. C. bulbifera is less common, but very prolific where it occurs — a delicate fern, with long, slender, arched fronds. I have found this troublesome in the rock-gar- den, on account of its coming up almost every- where soon after being introduced. There are numerous other desirable species, of large and medium habit, that may appropri- ately find a place in the hardy fernery ; but, for all ornamental purposes, a sufficient variety may be obtained by those already specified, without 269 further extending the list. It is, perhaps, super- fluous to remark that where the fernery is placed by the side of the house, or against a wall, the more robust kinds should occupy the back- ground, and the smaller-growing species the foreground, where they can not become smoth- ered. Thus far I have referred only to the more robust species. But a great merit of the Fz'h'ces is, that the smaller they become the more beau- tiful they seem. The little oak-fern (Phegop- teris dryopterts), for instance, whose delicate print is found on decayed logs and moist, shady places, is one of the loveliest of its family. The diminutive polypody, too, that drapes dry bowlders with its living green, is a fern one must always stop to admire, however common it may be. These smaller ferns, with many others, can not be grown with the larger sorts, and must have a special place, either the rock-garden proper or a small bed by themselves. The oak- fern and beech-fern are easily established in leaf-mold and loam. The common polypody and the larger and handsome Polypodium fal- catum are not always so accommodating, pre- ferring a mixture of peat, leaf-mold, and sharp sand or sandy loam. There are very many va- rieties of the polypody cultivated in England. 270 2Tf)e CKatHen's Storg. Woodsia Ilvensis and W. obtusa are beautiful small ferns. The curious walking-fern (Camptosorus rhi- zophyllus) I have found difficult to establish, and the charming little maiden-hair spleenwort (As- plenium trtchomanes), though numerous speci- mens of it live on from year to year, never looks quite vigorous. A. ebeneum, a larger species from Oregon, I have found rather fastidious, as also Cheilanthes vestita and the delicate Crypto- gramme acrostichoides. The distinct hart's- tongue (Scolopendrium vulgare) does well with me. Upward of fifty forms of the latter are cultivated in England, many being of marked beauty. Asplenium nigrum is an easily grown small English fern which will grace any collec- tion. Ceterach offictnarum is likewise a very distinct and handsome small British fern, though not so easily grown as the latter. To grow the more delicate small ferns suc- ces3fully demands a favorable climate and location with a thorough knowledge of their requirements, and only true fern-lovers who are willing to devote the necessary time and study will find it worth while to attempt the cultivation of the greater portion of the very beautiful smaller Filices. It is more satisfactory to collect ferns your- self; they then become a pleasing reminder of STlje JFetnerj?. 271 many a locality where they were obtained. Re- moval may be successfully effected at almost any season. For beginners early autumn is a favorable time for collecting, as it is near the dormant season ; and yet the various species may be readily distinguished, the fronds having not yet dried. Xttibsnmmer .floiocrs cmfc iiUibsummcr bakes. The Passion for Flowers is, indeed, one of the most en- during and permanent of all enjoyments. — JESSE. XIII. MIDSUMMER FLOWERS AND MIDSUMMER VOICES. I^FTER blossoming profusely throughout latter June and the first half of July, the Japanese honeysuckle, as if to em- phasize its attractions, again bursts into delicious bloom during late August and September. The tiger-lilies have been constant through late July until late August, when most of the species have passed. But the crowning glo^ of the , lilies is auratum, which extends its blossoming period throughout August and September, no species of the genus being so continuous to blossom. The odors of Lontcera Halleana and Lilium aura- tum are not unlike, and numerously planted in front of the verandas they flood the whole house with perfume in the evening. A beautiful flower becomes doubly beautiful when it prolongs the usual flowering season, and, judged by this 276 2Tiie ©farten's Stotg. standard, both the Japanese honeysuckle and golden-banded lily deserve our warmest praise. Some of the roses also are flowering for the second time. Among them I mark especially Marguerite de St. Amande, Marshall P. Wilder, and Paul Neyron. With them the following may be named as among the most free-blooming autumnal sorts: Comtesse de Serenye, Rev. J. B. M. Camm, Boieldieu, Francois Michelon, Mabel Morrison, Louis Van Houtte, La Reine, John Hopper, Baroness Rothschild, Baron Pre- vost, Countess of Oxford, Eugenie Verdier, Marie Beaumann, Victor Verdier, Hippolyte Jamain, Horace Vernet. Very companionable during August and Sep- tember are the althaeas, almost the only flower- ing shrubs blossoming at this time. In the rear garden there is a swarm of bright flowering an- nuals— petunias, verbenas, calendulas, escholt- zias, nasturtiums, and marigolds. Herrick tells how marigolds came yellow : Jealous girls these sometimes were While they lived or lasted here : Turned to flowers, still they be Yellow markt for jealousie. This may apply to the orange-colored kinds, not to the big double lemon-yellows, too handsome to be jealous of any flowers of their color. jf&f&summer iMotoers anti ITofces. 277 For weeks there has been a notable absence of bird-voices. The English sparrows are for the most part on a vacation to the grain-fields. The songsters are almost silent save the con- stant wood-pewee, who, however, only utters the first two notes of his plaintive cry. His is a haunting, melodious strain I should sadly miss from the copse and garden. The ornithologists describe his voice very variously. Coues speaks of the "sobbing of the little somber-colored bird " ; Wilson places him " amid the gloom of the woods, calling out in a feeble, plaintive voice ' peto-way, peto-way, peto-way ' " ; Langille terms his notes " a slow, tender, and somewhat melan- choly whistle, 'pe-wee'"; Flagg refers to his "feeble and plaintive note"; Trowbridge, in his poem, interprets his song, " Pe-wee ! pe-wee ! peer ! " Burroughs alone rightly describes it as " a sweet, pathetic cry." It is, in addition, a cry of considerable volume and penetration, its sweet- ness masking its real force, always plaintive, and, when the full strain is delivered, wonderfully effective at the close. I can not discern any- thing resembling " pe-wee " in either call or re- sponse unless it be in late summer. It sounds distinctly whe-u ivhe ; ivh.ee u. The common pe-wee or phoebe-bird pos- sesses no such subtle charm. He never tires of 278 er&e ©artJen's reiterating the two notes of his refrain. It some- times tires the listener, however, and a misogy- nist might wonder if it is not the female who sings. To compensate for the silence of the birds, the insect world is shrilling con amore night and day. So many instruments compose the or- chestra that one is puzzled to place all the per- formers. Loudest of all is the cicada's great crescendo, overpowering the strumming of grass- hoppers and droning of diurnal crickets. The shrill of the common black cricket, produced by rubbing his legs sharply together, consists of three notes in rhythm, and is said to form always a triplet in the key of B. Night is the morning of the green leaf-cricket's day. At twilight or late afternoon he begins his even-song in strong, well- modulated notes, chanting continuously until daylight. His chorus it is we hear so steadily, commencing briskly in August, and uttered, now fast, now slowly, according to the warmth or coolness of the night. His voice is extremely deceptive, appearing to proceed from almost any place except the vine or tree overhead. A plaint- ive, soothing song he sings, a song in keeping with the season, pulsating with every change from heat to cold, and finally subsiding to a scarcely audible sob in late October. iFlotoers airti Uofces. 279 In the fields Grylltadce innumerable are loud with song. Listening to the melody of their countless wings, strange it seems that their transitory existence is but the enactment in an- other world of the passions and jealousies of our own ; that their allegro of stridulous sound is but an expression of the fierce rivalry of males ; that the grasshopper's voice proceeds from a stamping-ground of strife, and the " crink-crink " of crickets is largely the declaration of jealousy and hate. From the raspberry-vines rises a dreamy, summery voice, continuous during the day and not unfrequent during the night, proceeding from one of the small climbing crickets. Up go the long antennae and gauzy wings, and a pro- longed " Cree-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-€-e-e-e-e-e " trembles upon the air. This is CEcanthus fas- ciatus, one of the pleasantest of insect-choris- ters. How his delicate wings withstand the constant scraping they do, and how they can produce such a clear, bell-like sound, seems in- conceivable. Like the green leaf-cricket, he is an accomplished ventriloquist. One of these, hav- ing escaped from confinement, and singing un- ceasingly, led me a twenty minutes' search ere I could locate his precise whereabouts from the 280 fffje ©artien's Storj. song, which seemed everywhere but the exact spot whence it proceeded. There is another in- sect, not a troubadour, who adds his harsh note to the orchestration of the hot nights of mid- summer and early fall. His stridulation pos- sesses the characteristic rasping of the katydid tribe, but is less intense. On cool nights he is silent, but as soon as the nights become warm he commences to file his saw until dawn. Of all familiar insect sounds, the voice of the cicada is the strongest, that of CEcanthus fascia- tus the most summery, the green leaf-cricket's the most plaintive, and the katydid's the harshest. The general effect of all these minstrels, save that of the katydid, is a soothing one. The bird-songs of spring are happy, merry, buoyant, I may say, wakeful — a triumphant major of song. The insect-chorus of fall is an ode rather than a lyric — a song pitched in a minor key, rising and falling amid the lengthening shadows and gathering haze of autumn. Latter midsummer and early fall bring a fresh color-surprise to the garden. It is the sea- son of the phloxes, tritomas, helianthuses, the great hydrangeas, the Japanese anemones, and the stately autumnal flowers — the gathering and concentration of months of warmth and sun- shine. One expects much of the late flora, it Jttf&summer JNotoers airt Uofccs. 281 has been so long about its task. Less of grace and tenderness it possesses than that of spring, but greater strength of stalk, and more of bold- ness and virility. The phlox, a genus exclusive- ly North American, constitutes, in the large gar- den species, one of our most varied and valuable hardy perennials. America has furnished the phloxes, Europe has hybridized them ; the gar- den perennial phlox, as it is now perfected, hav- ing originated from the tall-growing P. panicu- lata and its varieties, and the lower-growing P. maculata. That such brilliant varieties as " Lothair," and some others, are the result of a cross with P. Drummondtt, would not seem improbable. The decussata class embraces the taller-growing varieties, the suffruticosa the smaller. The hybridized phlox has its own gamut of colors, like the hybridized azalea — hues and tints possessed by no other flower. These glowing shades of salmon, rose, and vermilion, together with the numerous pure white and creamy-white varieties, are the more striking from the grand flower-trusses and the tall stalks upon which they are placed. The phlox may be termed a necessary garden-flower. It is easy to grow, of hardy, vigorous habit, and there is no other perennial to supply its place. The largest truss- 282 W&e ffiartren's Storg. es are produced on two- and three-year-old plants. Renewal in some soils becomes neces- sary every few years. Where it thrives, how- ever, the magnificent head of bloom carried by an old plant is far more showy than the few larger trusses of a younger one. Pinching or cutting back the shoots in early June will render it autumnal flowering, and by thus treating a portion of the plants the flowering season may be largely prolonged. There is another advantage from pinching some of the plants : if the weather be unusually hot and dry during August, so as to cause poor flowering, the retarded plants will almost always have the advantage of cooler weather to flower. Pinching, however, is done at the expense of the size of the truss ; where large trusses are an especial object, at least half of the stalks should be cut out. The phlox needs abundant moist- ure during its florescence, and likes rich soil. Some phloxes, particularly the whites, are sub- ject to mildew in certain soils and during certain seasons. But the great enemy of the phlox is the larval grub of the big May beetle, with whom the roots of this plant are an especial favorite. His presence may be detected by the sickly appearance of the plant — a knowledge that usually comes too late. Young plants JHotoers anti Voices. 283 should be immediately lifted, the grubs de- stroyed, and the plants replanted in fresh earth. Old phloxes being impatient of removal, there is seldom any remedy when they are thus attacked. The great Chinese plume-poppy (Bocconia cordata) is a very handsome late - flowering plant. It attains a height of nine feet, and the large terminal flower-panicles and tropical oval- cordate leaves are extremely graceful and showy. But it is a rambler at the root, and must have a place where the suckers will not cause trouble. It is not a safe plant for the border or the lawn on this account, where otherwise it would be highly ornamental. The Japanese Polygonum cuspidatum is an- other grand herbaceous plant that is tempting to employ, but which he who is wise in his genera- tion will avoid. Once established, it becomes a horrible nightmare, and I doubt if there exists among hardy plants a more troublesome subject to banish. My experience has been confined to a colony in my neighbor's garden, close to the division-line, that from year to year extended its deep-rooting suckers farther and farther on to the lawn and borders. I shudder now when I think of the digging and trenching and under- mining and the barrels of salt it has required to prevent its intrusions. 284 3T!)e ffifarten's Storw. I mentioned this pest to a friend noted for his marvelous knowledge of hardy plants, and for his splendid garden at Edge Hall, Cheshire. For once he was caught napping, and opened his garden-gate to a wolf in sheep's clothing. " I was younger than I am now," he remarked1, with a smile illuminating his splendid face, " and have had fifteen years' experience with Polygo- num cuspidatum. It established itself in one part of my garden so that it has kept me busy fighting it for years ; and a man still works half a day every fortnight in the vain attempt to eradicate it." A fine, old-fashioned flower is the white day- lily (Funkia grandiflord), with pure white, fra- grant blossoms during August and September— a flower almost too common and well appre- ciated to need specification. The curled-leaved variety of the common tansy ( Tenacetum vul- gare, var. crtsptim) is well worthy a place in the flower or shrubbery border. Its scented leaves are refreshing to smell as you pass, and are as beautifully curled as the fronds of the crisped hart's-tongue fern. I had almost over- looked the garden thyme, now forming great cushions on the rock-work. It is aptly named from thumos— courage, strength — the smell of thyme being reviving. The variegated-leaved JTlotoers anto Vofces. 285 varieties— the gold- and silver-leaved—are the most desirable, always elegant in the rock-gar- den or flower-border. August and September are the months of the sunflowers, or Helianthece, named from helios, the sun, and anthos, a flower, from the errone- ous but common opinion that the flowers always turn their faces toward the sun. The appella- tion is appropriate, notwithstanding ; for there are few brighter, more sun-loving flowers than this extensive tribe of the composites. The spe- cies grow mostly from four to twelve feet high, and are characterized by their large, showy, yel- low flowers, the largest being H. annuus, the well-known Peruvian annual. The Helianthus is coarser than numerous other garden favorites ; and while many of the species undoubtedly are better adapted for the wild garden, there are still a number well deserving a place in the flower-border and shrubbery. To combine size, hardiness, and luxuriant bloom, one must some- times put up with coarseness ; and any weedy appearance of the perennial sunflowers is more than atoned for by the gayety many of the spe- cies impart to the garden at a time when they are really required. To the sub-tribe of the Helianthece, included in the tribe Aster oidece, belong also the Heltopsts, Rudbeckia, Echina- 286 2Tte Barton's Storj. cea, and Coreopsis, mostly perennials in the style of Helianthus. From all of these we have a great mass of yellow autumnal blossom not to be dispensed with. All the sunflowers grow well in any common garden soil, most of them being easily raised from seed, while many read- ily form hybrids. Among the earliest is the showy ox-eye (He- liopsis Icevis), frequent along streams and banks, where its numerous yellow flowers form vast golden streamers during August, conspicuous from a great distance. At nearly the same time Helianthus di-varicatus peoples the thickets and meadows — a brilliant lemon-yellow flower. Later comes H. decapetalus, the blossom not unlike the preceding, but the plant more bushy and more numerous flowered. H. multiflorus bears showy yellow heads, there being a major variety of this superior to the type. The double form (//. m.flore-plenus), much seen in gardens, is among the most conspicuous of perennials, carrying a huge sheaf of golden bloom, the large double flowers remaining long in perfection. H. multiflorus increases very fast, a small root set out in early spring forming a large bush by Au- gust. The flowers are always larger on young plants ; after the second year they diminish in size, when the plants should be divided. Rud- Jftftrsummer JTlotoers atrti Vofces. 287 beckia hirta, the orange-daisy of the fields, would be desirable were it not so common a weed ; R. nitida, a taller-growing plant, is one of the best of its class. Much resembling some of the perennial sun- flowers is Silphtum perfoliatum, one of the sev- eral coarse, tall-growing rosin-plants, flowering in July and August. It has huge leaves, great clusters of large lemon-yellow flowers, and grows seven to ten feet high. The most remarkable of the genus is S. lacintatum, the compass-plant of the prairies, which is said to have the peculiarity of turning the edges of its lower leaves north and south, but this is not noticed in cultivation. This grows from eight to twelve feet high, hav- ing large yellow flowers and immense leaves. Other species are astericus, integrtfoltum, tri- foliatum, terebinthtnaceum, and asperrimum, all with yellow flowers, and albifiorum, with white flowers. The proper place for most of the Silphtums is the rear garden, or the edge of a distant shrubbery, in masses. The Heleniums are tall-growing plants, with large yellow or orange flowers, similar to Rudbeckia. H. au- tumnale, the most common of the genus, is a conspicuous plant, growing from two to three feet high. H. Hoopesi is a coarse plant, grow- ing three to four feet high, flowering in August 288 Sfje