Amateur Gardencraft Part 17

Seedling Hollyhocks almost always look well when winter comes, but in spring we find their leaves decaying from the effect of too much moisture, and this decay is likely to be communicated to the crown of the plant, and that means failure. Of late years I protect my plants by inverting small boxes over them. The sides of these boxes are bored full of holes to admit air, which must be allowed to circulate freely about the plant, or it will smother. I invert a box over the plant after filling it with leaves, and draw more leaves about the outside of it.

This prevents water from coming in contact with the soft, sponge-like foliage, and the plant comes out in spring almost as green as it was in fall.

Plants can be moved with comparative safety any time during the summer if one is careful to disturb their roots as little as possible. Take them up with a large amount of soil adhering, and handle so carefully that it will not break apart. It is a good plan to apply enough water before attempting to lift them to thoroughly saturate all the soil containing the roots. This will hold the earth together, and prevent exposure of the roots, which is the main thing to guard against.

After putting the plant in place, apply water liberally, and then mulch the soil about it with gra.s.s-clippings or manure. Of course removal at that season will check the growth of the plant to a considerable extent, and probably end its usefulness for the remainder of the season. Unless absolutely necessary, I would not attempt the work at this time, for spring and fall are the proper seasons for doing it.

In a letter recently received a lady asks this question: "Do you believe in flower-shows? If you think they help the cause of flower-growing, will you kindly tell me how to go to work to organize such a society?"

To the first question I reply: I _do_ believe in flower-shows and horticultural societies when they are calculated to increase the love and appreciation of flowers _as_ flowers, rather than to call attention to the skill of the florist in producing freaks which are only attractive as curiosities. I sincerely hope that the day of Chrysanthemums a foot across and Roses as large as small Cabbages is on the wane.

The thing to do in organizing a floral a.s.sociation is--to paraphrase Horace Greeley's famous advice as to the resumption of specie payment--to organize! In other words, to get right down to business and give the proposed society a start by bringing flower-loving people together, and beginning to work without wasting time on unnecessary details. If you make use of much "red tape" you will kill the undertaking at the outset. Simply form your society and appoint your committees, and you will find that the various matters which perplex you when looked at in the whole will readily adjust themselves to the conditions that arise as the society goes on with its work. Put theories aside, and _do something_, and you will find very little difficulty in making your society successful if you can secure a dozen really interested persons as members. I would be glad to know that such a society existed in every community.

I would advise my readers never to have anything to do with plant-peddlers. Of course it is _possible_ for the man who goes about the country with plants for sale to be as honest as any other man, but we see so few indications of the possession of honest principles by the majority of these men that we have come to consider them all unreliable, and, as a matter of protection, we have to refuse to patronize any of them at the risk of doing injustice to those who may be strictly reliable. They will sell you Roses that have a different colored flower each month throughout the season, blue Roses, Resurrection Plants that come to life at a snap of the finger, and are equally valuable for decorative purposes and for keeping moths out of clothing, and numerous other things rare, wonderful, and all high priced, every one of which can be cla.s.sed among the humbugs. Patronize dealers in whom you are justified in having confidence because of a well-established reputation for fair dealing.

The Hollyhock is often attacked by what is called "rust." The leaves become brown, and dry at the edges, and the entire plant has a look much like that of a nail which has been for some time in water, hence the popular name of the disease. This "rust" is really a fungoid trouble, and unless it is promptly checked it will soon spread to other plants.

If it appears on several plants at the same time, I would advise cutting them, and burning every branch and stalk. If but one plant is attacked, I would spray it with Bordeaux Mixture, which can now be obtained in paste form from most florists. This is the only dependable remedy I know of for the fungus ills that plants are heir to. Asparagus is often so badly affected with it, of late years, that many growers have been obliged to mow down their plants and burn their tops in midsummer, in their efforts to save their stock. Never leave any of the cut-off portions of a plant on the ground, thinking that cutting down is all that is necessary. The fungus spores will survive the winter, and be ready for work in spring. Burn everything.

A house whose foundation walls are left fully exposed always has an unfinished look. But if we hide them by shrubs and flowering plants the place takes on a look of completion, and the effect is so pleasing that we wonder why any house should be left with bare walls. The plants about it seem to unite it with the grounds in such a manner that it becomes a part of them. But the house whose walls are without the grace of "green things growing," always suggest that verse in the Good Book which tells of "being _in_ the world, but not _of_ it."

I would always surround the dwelling with shrubs and perennials, and use annuals and bulbs between them and the paths that run around the house.

On the north side of a dwelling large-growing Ferns can be planted with fine effect. These should be gathered in spring, and a good deal of native soil should be brought with them from the woods. They will not amount to much the first year, but they will afford you a great deal of pleasure thereafter. Use in front of them such shade-loving plants as Lily of the Valley and Myosotis.

Nowadays "tropical effects" are greatly admired. We have but few plants that adapt themselves to this phase of gardening. Canna, Caladium, Ricinus, Coleus, "Golden Feather" Pyrethrum and the gray Centaurea cover pretty nearly the entire list. But by varying the combinations that can be made with them the amateur can produce many new and pleasing effects, thus avoiding the monotony which results from simply copying the beds that we see year after year in the public parks, from whose likeness to each other we get the impression that no other combination can be made.

Study out new arrangements for yourself. Plant them, group them, use them as backgrounds for flowering plants, ma.s.s them in open s.p.a.ces in the border. Do not get the idea that they must always be used by themselves. Cannas, because of the great variety of color in their foliage, can be made attractive when used alone, but the others depend upon combination with other plants for the contrast which brings out and emphasizes their attractive features.

Speaking of new arrangements reminds me to say that the amateur gardener ought always to plan for original effects if he or she would get out of gardening all the pleasure there is in it. It may seem almost necessary for the _beginner_ to copy the ideas of others in the arrangement of the garden, to a considerable extent, but he should not get into the slavish habit of doing so. Hazlitt says: "Originality implies independence of opinion. It consists in seeing for one's self." That's it, exactly.

Study your plants. Find out their possibilities. And then plan arrangements of your own for next season. Have an opinion of your own, and be independent enough to attempt its carrying out. Don't be afraid of yourself. Originate! Originate! Originate!

When you invest your money in a fine plant you do it for the pleasure of yourself and family. When a neighbor comes along and admires it, and asks you to divide it with her, don't let yourself be frightened into doing so from regard of what she may say or think if you refuse. Tell her where she can get a plant like it, but don't spoil your own plant for anybody.

I am well aware that advice of this kind may seem selfish, but it is not. There's no good reason why my neighbor should not get his plants in the same way I got mine. I buy with the idea of beautifying my home with them, and this I cannot do so long as I yield to everybody's request for a slip or a root.

I have in mind a woman who, some years ago, invested in a rare variety of Peony. When her plant came into bloom her friends admired it so much that they all declared they must have a "toe" of it. The poor woman hated terribly to disturb her plant, for she was quite sure what the result would be, having had considerable experience with Peonies, but she lacked the courage to say no, and the consequence was that she gave a root to the first applicant, and that made it impossible for her to refuse the second one and those who came after, and from that time to this she has kept giving away "toes," and her plant is a poor little thing to-day, not much larger than when it was first planted, while plants grown from it are large and fine. She wouldn't mind it so much if her friends were willing to divide _their_ plants with _their_ friends, but they will not do this "for fear of spoiling them." Instead, they send their friends to her. This is a fact, and I presume it can be duplicated in almost every neighborhood.

The flower-loving person is, as a general thing, a very generous person, and he takes delight in dividing his plants with others when he can do so without injuring them. He is glad to do this because of his love for flowers, and the pleasure it affords him to get others interested in them and their culture. But there is such a thing as being overgenerous.

Our motto should be, "Home's garden first, my neighbor's garden afterward."

It is generally thoughtlessness which prompts people to ask us to divide our choice plants with them. If we were to be frank with them, and tell them why we do not care to do this, they would readily understand the situation, and, instead of blaming us for our refusal, they would blame themselves for having been so thoughtlessly selfish as to have made the request.

The question is often asked:

"Why can't we save our own flower-seeds? Aren't the plants we grow just as healthy as those of the seedsmen we patronize year after year? Ought not the seed from them to be just as good as that we buy?"

Just as good, no doubt, in one sense, and _not_ as good, in another. We grow our plants for their flowers. The seedsmen grow theirs for their seed, and in order to secure the very best article they give their plants care and culture that ours are not likely to get. Their methods are calculated to result in constant improvement. Ours tend in the other direction. The person who grows plants year after year from home-grown seed will almost invariably tell you that her plants "seem to be running out."

The remedy for this state of things is to get fresh seed, each year, from the men who understand how to grow it to perfection.

One ought always to keep his shrubs and choice plants labelled so that no mistake can be made as to variety. We may be on speaking terms with the whole Smith family, but we never feel really acquainted with them until we know which is John, or Susan, or William. It ought to be so in our friendship with our plants. Who that loves Roses would be content to speak of La France, and Madame Plantier, and Captain Christy simply as Roses? We must be on such intimate terms with them that each one has a personality of its own for us. _Then_ we know them, and not _till_ then.

The best label to make use of is a zinc one, because it is almost everlasting, while a wooden one is short lived, and whatever is written on it soon becomes indistinct.

In attaching any label to a plant, be careful not to twist the wire with which you attach it so tightly that it will cut into the branch. As the branch grows the wire will shut off the circulation of the plant's life-blood through that branch, and the result will be disastrous to that portion of the plant.

Different varieties of perennials ought to be kept track of quite as much as in the case of shrubs. As the old stalks die away and are cut off each season, there is no part of the plant to which a label can be attached with any permanence. There are iron sockets on the market into which the piece of wood bearing the name of the variety can be inserted.

An all-wool label would speedily decay in contact with the soil.

Sometimes we get very amusing letters from parties "in search of information." Not long ago a woman sent me a leaf from her Boston Fern, calling my attention to the "bugs" on the lower side of it, and asking how she could get rid of them. How did I suppose they contrived to arrange themselves with such regularity? A little careful investigation would have shown her that the rows of "bugs" were seed-spores. If anything about your plants puzzles you, use your eyes and your intelligence, and endeavor to find out the "whys and wherefores" for yourself. You will enjoy doing this when you once get into the habit of it. Information that comes to us through our own efforts is always appreciated much more than that which comes to us second-hand. Make a practice of personal investigation in order to get at a solution of the problems that will constantly confront you in gardening operations.