Class Book. /■^o Gardening by Myself. BoxtiSk AN NA^ WARNER. Nor does he govern only, or direct. But much performs himself. The Task. NEW YORK: ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH & CO., 770 Broadway, cor, 9TH St., i'ST^ 35^05- ,W3 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by Anson D. F. Randolph & Co., Ie the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. SOURCE UNKNOWN AUG 2 1940 ^ Edward O. Jknkjns, PRINTER AND STEREOTYPER, 20 North William Street, N. Y. J- F PRE FAC E. Gardening by oneself is so lovely, and so easy a thing, that I would fain have every- body try it. Do not mistake me : you can- not do everything without glass and garden- ers, and that convenient helper popularly called " The Bank of England." But you can do so much, that you may well be con- tent ; and even be able to listen quietly to some one giving an unlimited order for priceless carnations, what though the thought comes to you (as it did to me) : '* I had but three, my own seedlings, and a grub eat up one of them." The thought that there are two left, will be very sweet to you, even then and there Touchwood's label is not the worst that can be put upon a plant : " A poor thing, sir, but mine own." But there is no need of raising poor things ; and you can hardly imagine, before- hand, how much dearer such friend-flowers are, than any, even the most splendid, mere acquaintances introduced by a professed gardener. I wish everybody had a garden, and would work in it himself, — the world would 4 PREFACE. grow sweeter-tempered at once. Why you may deal with one great florist after an- other, (I know, for I have dealt with a good many) and you will find nothing but cour- tesy and pleasant words from the beginning to the end. No urging you to take what you do not want, no clipping the measure of what you buy ; but on the contrary, your insignificant little orders are rounded out with unexpected treasures. As if the flor- ists could not bear even to think of empty gardens, while theirs were so full ; or else had a sort of gentle sympathy for the peo- ple who expect to live upon fifty cents' worth of flowers for a whole year. I think it is Mr. Biglow who solaces him- self with " More last words." I know there are many I might say. There are flower names you will look for here, and not find. The fair faces of my Campanula Lorei, look at me reproachfully even now, from a dis- tance; with the pink Eucharidiums, just unfolding their fresh colour. And there is Viola Cornuta, and my superb new Gen. Jacqueminot rose. But if I mentioned ev- erything, when should I have done? Not till my book was altogether too big lor you to buy. Shahweetah, 5^««^ 28, 1872. GARDENING BY MYSELF. JANUARY. Pines, ef you're blue, are the best friends I know, They mope an' sigh an' sheer your feelin's so. — Lowell, I THINK it is not common to choose this, month for a visit to Fairyland. Yet, as you never do thor- oughly know people unless you have lived with them, so neither ^ do you well appre- ^^ ciate Fairyland, unless ^/%'^;Jy^^<)sSV^ you have dwelt there ^rk 114 GARDENING BY MYSELF. too much, — give them every needed help, every delicate attention ; and let them have time, and do you have patience. You must not expect to see your Fairyland what gar- deners call a *' mass of bloom" so early in the season. If the beds were full now, they would be over-crowded by and by ; there- fore enjoy the flowers that are out and the growth already made, and be thankful as well as patient. Cannot one wait a little among such troops of roses? Why, my Souveiiir Henry Clay is so heavy with bloom that neither stake nor string will hold it. I have tied it again and again. Pio Nono is all in green just now, at the end of the month, gathering strength for a fresh outbmrst ; and Salet bears the last few of its new crop. And the beautiful Mine. Bosanquet blushes always ; and Mme. Falcot wears her daily dress of dainty buff; and Mme. Plaiitier has well-nigh said farewell until another year. Just over Mine. Falcot rise the tall stems of my excelsmn lily, with pendant bells of rosy buff, touched off with anthers of deep GARDENING BY MYSELF. 115 orange red. The annunciation lilies (L. candidum) — old, classical, but too pure or too something for most modern gardens — are sweet after their own rare fashion, gleaming out in spotless white ; and to my great pleasure, my new L. auratum shews three buds that promise full developement. The first one I planted, promised and failed. This was put in without any manure near it, and does better. L. thunbergianum and L. fulgidum are both past or passing, but both are fine : the first, a dark, gloomy red ; the second, red, flushed with orange. You will think I have forgotten the little things to do, in the great things done. First of all, then, there are weeds — always weeds — to be nipped long before they reach the bud. Then there are bare spots of earth between your plants, uncovered as yet, and always prone to bake and harden in the June sun. For both of these a small, fine rake is the best cure. Constant working among your plants, with a careful hand, is the greatest possible refreshment to them 1 1 6 GARDENING BY M VSELF. as well as to you. How easily the dew takes effect upon the softened earth ; how surely some sweet and gentle influences find their way into your spirit, if the care- trodden routine of life is broken up and stirred by work among those things which God has made and not man. JULY. Canst thou bind the sweet influences of Pleiades, or loose the bands of Orion ? Canst thou lift up thy voice to the clouds, that abun- dance of waters ma}'^ cover thee ? — Job 38 : 31, 34. I DO not know how any one can take full comfort in his garden who does not meet the Lord there. If all the little disap- pointments are to be borne alone ; if all the beauties that spring up under your hands bring no thought of the hand that created them, then the garden will be a very shorn place indeed, and you will fail to get from it half its richness. For the loss of a favour- ite plant makes us rich — and not poor — if it comes as a new, gentle lesson in learning the Lord's will, in accepting his choice in- stead of our ov\^n. That acceptance (it is more than mere submission) makes a thread of perfect gold all through the duskiest Hfe- 1 1 8 GARDENING BY M YSELF, pattern. And do I think it is in place with such very little things? O yes! — with everything. I had seen very little of life- work when the knowledge first came to me. I was standing by the river side waiting for my father, who at that time went to town every morning and came home every night. This night he failed to come. I saw the little boat break through the river- shadows with her line of light, I heard the oars dip and work, but the seat in the stern was empty. Dr. Skinner stood near me on the land- ing, — stepping about, musing, half whistling, as he often did Not talking to me, nor seeming to notice me just then at all. Yet perhaps his eye caught my look, or his ear my tone, as I said quietly, — ' He has not come !" With one of his quick motions Dr. Skinner faced round upon me. ''Are you resigned ?" he said. That was all. I have had greater things to resign since GARDENING B V MYSELF. 119 then, but the lesson about little things has never passed away. How do you manage in this July weath- er, — sometimes hot, sometimes dry, always uncertain ? How do you get along, when " the dust groweth into hardness, and the clods cleave fast together," unless you rec- ognize the Lord's hand in it all, and so accept his work? Easy then it is to wait for ''the small rain, and the great rain of his strength ;" easy even to bear " the treas- ures of the hail," if they come ; well know- ing that the " clouds are numbered in wis- dom." It is not an unmixed pleasure to go over your garden, even in the best of weather. Some blanks will be there, in spite of every- thing. For instance, this year asters and phlox and gilliflowers — three of my especial pets — have been in the duQips, and not dis- posed to grow. I planted them out when too small (don't do that), and then was oblig- ed to leave them to look after themselves, (also not to be done, if you can help it). 1 20 GARDENING B Y MYSELF. Then I think the mischievous thrips, too small to trace save by their mischief; being (to quote Carlyle) *' like grains of gunpow- der — singly contemptible, but highly re- spectable in mass ;" I think they have brows- ed upon my poor seedlings in preference to older plants. I have sowed both asters and phlox again, for replanting. It is pretty to note the quickened prog- ress of things, as the season gets fairly un- der way, and plants begin to realize that if the}^ are to make a show at all, they must be about it. How fast the slender verbena widens out into a spread of beauty — in what a hurry the sweet peas come out ; purple and white and painted ladies jostling each other with soft wings ! Seedling petunias display their eccentricities, the last one open, having a large white blossom with a deep purple stain in the centre, as if one of my pansies were stationed there on guard. How fairly the geraniums unfold leaf after leaf, like a ship crowding sail as the breeze freshens ! By the way, it was a little incau- GARDENING BY M YSELF. \ 2 1 tious in me, dealing as I profess to do with things attainable by everybody, to instance Black Hawk of all my geraniums. For that is a twelve-shilling novelty — one that I should not have had myself, but for the open hand of a great florist, who is as generous as he is skilful. If you w^ould keep your garden from de- generating into very seedy real hfe, as the summer goes on, 3^ou must keep all dead flowers picked off". Sweet peas, for in- stance, will bloom the season through, un- less you let them ripen seed. Then the vines spend all their strength upon the swelling pods, and presently turn yellow at the root, and cease to be a thing of beauty or a joy. So with pinks, so with many other flowers. Some, indeed, take care of them- selves. Petunias drop their blossoms and leave no sign that mars the plant, and pan- sies seem to have strength for everything ; but verbenas and geraniums, though they go on blooming, yet soon get a sort of encum- bered look if the seed-heads are left on. Of 1 1 X 22 GARDENING BY M YSELF. course where the seed is ornamental, and the plant grown chiefly for that, these words do not apply. Honesty (lunaria) must not be shorn of its dead flower stems, and the ornamental gourds must be left to perfect their fruit. But as a general thing you never need fear to pick your flowers with the greatest freedom ; you will have all the more left. It is the very way to make them bloom, a friend of mine used to say ; and she was one famous both for picking and having. It holds good in many depart ments, from the days of Bunyan down : " There was a man (though some did count him mad). The more he cast away, the more he had." And so while some plants — and people — live a stinted, dry, bloomless life, others, through constant imparting of their riches, are all blossom and fragrance. " They shall still bring forth fruit in old age ; they shall be fat and flourishing." You can if you choose leave a few pods for seed, if you wish to save your own. GARDENING BY MYSELF. 123 But generally enough will ripen in hiding places, tucked away out of sight among the foliage, to answer all your needs ; and in the case of sweet peas, the seed is so cheap that ev^en this is of little consequence. Mignonnette seed you must gather from time to time, choosing those capsules that shew dark grains within their small open mouths. And pansy seed you must watch for, — the seed-vessels burst wide apart almost before the seed is ripe, scattering it hopelessly. Sweet peas have a trick of doing this, too ; and phlox, and balsams ; and some people recommend a little muslin bag tied round the flower stem, for a seed-catcher. In saving the seeds of asters and zinnias, make sure that you go quite down to the bottom of the chaffy cup in which they rest, else you may get only chaff; and let all new- gathered seed lie out in some airy shady place to dry a little, before you put it away. Whenever you can get ladies' small pru- ning shears or scissors, you will find them of great use in all these clipping operations 1 24 GARDENING BY M YSELF. For while tbej are strong enough, by means of a sliding spring, to cut easily a good stout shoot of old wood from a rose or a black- berry, they are also so small and light as to lie in a little basket and work in a tired hand. Such a pair can be found at the chief seed and agricultural stores, price from $2 50 up. Shears without the spring are cheaper, but will not do the same execution. Arrange a small plain basket, for work, not show ; with your shears (or failing that, an old pair of scissors), a knife, half a dozen labels, a pen- cil, and some strands of bast mat, or other soft strings. Then in another basket, larger but still light, have a trowel, and support- sticks of various lengths, and you are equipped. The sticks should be smooth and straight, v^^ith the bark on if possible ; and the labels neatly fashioned out of bits of old shingle, not less than four inches long. You can get these labels from the seedsmen, ready made, for twenty cents a hundred, if you can spare so much from your seed money. There is no better way of marking GARDENING BY MYSELF. 125 labels indelibly (that I know) than the old one : — whiten the smooth surface lightly with white lead, and write while it is wet, with a common pencil. If you have an indelible garden pencil, the wood must be wet with soda or saleratus water instead. Some peo- ple prepare a number of labels thus, and so have them fit for use at any time. And when the two baskets are ready, and your day's work is done, then go forth togeth- er in the edge of the evening for rest. You will forget how tired you are while you are tying up the pinks, bowed down with only the weight of their own loveliness. And the dry cares and parching disappointments of the day will somehow grow gentler as you sprin- kle soft refreshment on the little seedlings that have also, after their own fashion, been bearing the burden and heat of the day. And the pruning, severe though it may have been, in your life experience, will somewhat change its look as you catch a glimpse of the needs-be, through the medium of your own wise and tender meaninof in what II * 126 GARDENING BY M YSELF, seems — at first sight — so harsh. Cut back the roses? pinch out the balsam's leading" shoot? insist that your ipomeas shall climb at your pleasure, instead of wandering aim- lessly about? Ay, — and a few weeks will shew why ; in the abundant colours and the richer green, in the close, compact, working growth. A few weeks for the flowers ; but with us it is a few years. Even so. " Every branch that beareth not fruit he taketh away, and every branch that beareth fruit he purgeth it, that it may bring forth more fruit." Among the hardy perennial flowers, there are many lovely, old-fashioned kinds, well worth the having — if you can get them. Spiderwort, with its deep blue eyes ; and ragged robin, with its funny fresh look of mconseguence, daffodils and rocket for the early spring ; and periwinkle and money- wort to carpet any bare spot of ground ; and lilies of the valley, and Solomon's seal, — with a host more. Some of them you will find in the florist's catalogue; a few in GARDENING BY MYSELF. 127 the seedsman's list ; but everywhere under a new name, where you must have sharp wit to find them out. For few innocent mind- ed persons would ever guess that Alyssum saxatile meant golden basket, or that Lych- nis flos-cuculi and ragged robin were one and the same. It's all nonsense, by the way that, " A rose by any other name would smell as sweet." Can you get at the perfume of a wall-flow- er through Cheiranthus cheiri ? Well — have all of the old-fashioned beau- ties you can get and find room for ; but some I fear live only in memory, and many have retreated to the gardens where fashion never comes. There you may find them — if you can find the gardens ; and can may be get a root or a layer or a " slip " for the ask- ing. They will not all grow^ well from seed. In these days, when there is so little to do in the garden except waiting for rain, and fighting the weeds that wont wait for it, the spare minutes may be well employed in in- creasing the number of your plants. Not 128 GA RDENING BY M YSELF. by sowing seeds — it is too early yet for that, except the few things that are sown for suc- cession ; but in the way of layering, budding and making cuttings. This last, Mr. Hen- derson calls the most important of all floral operations ; furnishing, with care, an inex- haustible supply of plants. And he adds the comforting assurance, that care is the thing needed, not great knowledge. Yet a little knowledge is a good foundation for care's work. When I was a child, I was taught elabo- rately how to make cuttings in the English fashion, by our English gardener, — a man thoroughly at home in the business from a seven years' apprenticeship and much use. His success was always good ; and mine, following his directions, was rarely want- ing. Yet some of these English ideas Mr. Henderson has, American like, cut down and simplified ; and so I shall sometimes choose to give you his directions, rather than those which I could more properly call my own. The simpler the better, always. GARDENING BY M YSELF. j 29 Leaving for the present some varieties of the work which are better suited to the cool autumn months than to this dry heat, let me tell you first what can be done now. Layers can be made among your roses any time from the middle of June, till the Sep- tember frosts set in. The shoots should be new wood, not more than a month old. LATEB, SHOWING OTT, PEG, WEDGE, ETC. Make your cut in the midst of the green, fresh leaves ; first down half through the shoot, and then along, splitting it lengthwise 1 30 GARDENING BY M YSELF. for three quarters of an inch or more, accord- ing to the size, and on the upper side. Bend the shoot gently over, and peg it down, with the cut an inch or so deep in the earth. And it is usual to put a bit of stone or stick — an}^ small trifle- — in the cut to keep it open. The layers may be made in the mere garden bed, or in small pots sunk up to their rims by the side of the bush. Layers in pots give the strongest plants soon, as they can be set out in the fall with less disturb- ance to their roots, and so get better estab- lished before winter. Another plan, very successful in hot weather, is a sort of air layering. Did you never notice a broken twig, which hanging just by a mere fibre of bark, had hardened and granulated at the broken end, as if all ready to send out roots ? I have, — and wonder now at my own stupidity that could not put two and two together. For that was really an air layer, — onl} when made on purpose, the branch is cut and wedged open just as for an earth layer. The roots GARDENING BY M YSELF. \ 3 1 will put forth into the mere open air ; and then the layer should be at once cut off and set in a small pot, and shaded and watered until it begins to grow. In making layers from some plants, the shoot is not cut, but is twisted — or has a bit of the bark taken off. Budding, too, is summer work. Let it be done, says Mr. Henderson, either so early that the new shoots can ripen before frost, or so late that they will not start until spring. That is, either before midsummer or in the fall. The stem or stock on which you bud must be in just that state when the bark will easily quit the wood ; and the bud itself must be taken from a well-grown shoot, thus. Cut across the shoot a half inch or so above a leaf, and from that cross-cut bring the knife down through the wood to as fa^ below the leaf, taking out a bit of bark and wood an PREPARED BUD. . , i i i J ^^ „ mch long, and sloped to a .ooint at the lower end, like a long, narrow 132 GARDENING BY MYSELF. triangle. Carefully take out the bit of wood from the bark and examine the bud at the foot of the leaf, to see that it is sound and perfect. If there is a little hole there in- stead, throw away your bit of bark and try again. Then on the stock make a cross-cut STOCK WITH INCISIONS. BTOCK Wixa BXTD IKBERTED. just through the bark, and from the middle of this a like cut straight down and as long as your bud. Gently loosen and lift the cut edges of bark, and slip in the point of your bud, easing it down till the leaf stalk GARDENING BY MYSELF. 133 is near the centre of the long cut. Then bind it firmly round with bast-mat or lamp- wick, winding the strand above and below the bud, taking care not to injure that in any way ; not letting the binding cover it, nor making the whole so tight as to cut into the bark of the stock. You merely want to kold the bud in place, and to keep out the air ; covering tke cut edges of the bark com- pletely, so as to give the stock and bud a chance to unite. For good buds of choice va- rieties, as well as for cuttings, you must sometimes depend upon friendly gardens having a larger variety than your own. And remember it is of first-rate importance in budding, that the bud should be plump and fresh. Therefore if the bud shoots are to be brought or sent any distance, be careful to guard them against even the first symptom of dryness. 12 8TOCIK AND BUD BOTTND UP. 1 34 GARDENING BY M YSELF. They may be packed in damp moss and oil- silk paper, and go safe ; but as people seldom carry those conveniences in their pocket, and as one may be offered a new rose-shoot when one is away at a tea-drinking, let me tell you a substitute. Ask for a raw potato, cut it in two, and stick the ends of your rose- shoots well in. There is nothing better. I am not sure that any of the books recom- mend a plan so unlike all ** modern improve- ments," but our old gardener approved it greatly ; and he would go off in a hot morn- ing and bring back a potato full of new cherry buds, or have apple shoots sent to him thus from a hundred miles away. Hot weather is not the best time for cut- tmgs ; but of course we who live by ouu wits must learn to make use of things just when they come, and cannot refuse sprigs of geranium because it is July. We get them in a bouquet, or on a visit ; or they come to bless our sick-room. And here let me say, there is no sweeter kindness to an invalid than to send her flowers — cut flow- GARDENING BY MYSELF. 135 ers, not a dress bouquet ; and there is no better amusement for her (if she can do any thing) than to play garden with them. A knife and scissors for trimming, a saucer of sand ; water and sunshine ; are all she needs for great success in striking her cuttings. Then fresh earth, a kitchen spoon, and the smallest sort of pots when they begin to grow. It is such fascination to study fresh life when you are languid ! — life that is not flaunted in your face, that does not extin- guish you wdth its wild breath ; but is gen- tle, quiet, tender, with the very fragrance of the Lord's touch. Sitting there by your flower-stand, with eyes shut or open, there comes over your restlessness a certain sense of rest, and peace somehow soothes away even the thought of discontent. " The earth is satisfied with the fruit of Thy works." And as we remember, we are satisfied too. When by any good, honest means we have cuttings of fine plants at our disposal, then monies the question what to do w^ith them. 1 36 GARDENING BY M YSELF, how to make them grow ? The way is not hard. But first about getting them. Do you think I am needlessly fastidious ? Where a plant is large, why may not one take a cutting ? Or what harm to gather from another plant, loaded with ripe seed? That sounds reasonable ; but it does not work well. An unmanageable golden rule encircles other people's flowers, to my eyes : a sure sense that, for some reason or other, sofnebody would rather I should not touch. Perhaps those seeds are the very first that have ripened, and the owner has not yet secured her own supply — perhaps you might take off a cutting in just the wrong place. One thing is certain : if you know a person well enough to treat her plants as if they were your own, you also know her well enough to ask leave. Now then for our cuttings. How will you choose them ? — if you can choose, — for upon the proper ripeness of the wood will depend much of your success. In all soft- wooded plants, such as fuchsias and vj i they will not all bloom, any more than all your seeds will come up, or all your cut- tings grow. Some crocus or other will take a distaste to the world after seeing an inch of it, and so droop down and fade away. Some snowdrop, rising higher to peer out through the wdndow panes, will discover that after all it is not spring ; and in your warm room its white buds will turn yellow and shrivel up with disappointment. Some enterprising tulip will run so fast, going all to top, that there is nothing for it but to tumble down and die ingloriously of mere want of root and patience. Such things will be in this typical world of flowers. And thus you come to look at the success- ful ones, the finished specimens of flower- hood, with a certain added gladness and ap- preciation. They have fully wrought out the beautiful plan of their life ; there are no more failures possible for them. Snowdrops, when they do well, are parti- cularly lovely in the house ; their pure white and green tinting seems like a very I J 2 GARDENING BY M YSELF bit of imprisoned spring-. And the scillas might be the spring sky, and the crocuses the spring sunshine — -that is, the yellow ones. Anything more exquisite than m}^ crocus Gold Lac last winter, could not be imagined of the sort. Six bright gold blos- soms, striped and dashed and touched with the richest dark brown, came up like fairy- rockets — two together, three together, one alone. And all from one small bulb. Fan- ny Keinble, on the other hand, following slowly and with dignified steps, was of a beauty hard to describe : the shape, the whiteness, the purple marking must be seen. Sir Walter Scott is another grand crocus, — ve?y large, beautifully striped. Do not try to grow the large show tulips in the house, but take instead the little Dice Van Thols, — pretty sure to do Avell, very sure to give pleasure. Especiall};^ (just this one bit of counsel) the rose-colored, — have that by all means. The bud comes up quite white. GARDENING BY MYSELF. 173 " That will never be a rose-colored tulip," said my sister, watching it from her seat by the fire. But as the days went on, the little white tulip began to blush. It could hardly be (in this age of the world) for being look- ed at ; but blush it did ; and the sweet rosy colour grew and spread and deepened, till my tulip was all warm and flushed like a child awaked from sleep. Little gold-striped Van Thol is very good too, — bright and sonsy and " peart," as our freedmen say. Slowly, while all this goes on (it is last winter, in my study, you understand), a blue La Perouse hyacinth has lifted its head from the brown soil and the green leaves ; and now as one waxy bell after another takes colour and shape, you ask if there was ever anything quite so fair? Yes, Lord Anson fol- lows, bating no jot of his rosy pretensions ; and the white Emieus, and the pale yellow Pluie d'Or, lose nothing by having to follow instead of to lead. 1 do not generally plant my finest bulbs 15* 174 GARDENING B V MYSELF. for the house, nor often the ;z^w ones ; but some of those that have already bloomed in the garden, or young offsets. For pot or glass culture is said to weaken the bulb , and people who get but few new ones each year cannot afford that. I like to see them first in their full glory out of doors. But such roots as I have mentioned — not new, nor quite full-sized, give exquisite flowers ; though of course the spike is not so large. Then for another house beauty, have at least one polyanthus narcissus, — nothing can be much pleasanter inside your window, when the snow lies deeo without. Even a little simple narcissus — ^nch.di's Incomparable — brings its yellow cup absolutely full of the spring. Then anemones and ranunculus. And for them, I must say they are uncertain ; they may bloom, they may not. If everything is just right, they will; if everything is not, they won 't. That is about the state of the case. But if they bloom, thej^ '11 make you so happy that you will go on planting them GARDENING B V M YSELF. j y r- every year for the mere chance. I had a pot of ranunculus in bloom one winter, that fairly brought people in from the street. Such balls of colour ! such violet perfume !— the only flowers, I think, that I ever knew smell just like a violet. And as for the ane- mone, she is a queen ! — whether she wears her robe of scarlet, or of purple, or of deep- est violet blue. It is hardly fair to speak of jonquils after these. Yet they are both delicate and dain- ty, and well repay one's care. And some of the oxalis tribe yield great returns ; and cyclamens are exquisite and expensive ; and the amaryllis is doubly ditto, ditto ; and ixias, and many more are to be grown, if you have room, money, or opportunity. So much for house favourites. Out of doors, I may as well confess at once that I have too many favourites to name them all. You would grow tired, if I did not. I must name a few, and then deal only in general remarks. If your crc^cuses and blue-bells are scat- 1 76 GARDENING BY M YSELF. tered about in the grass, then, to bear them company, plant a few Persian iris in the beds, — close at the front, for they are low, — • with a little clump of Bulbocodium vernum, to give another variety of colour. They will all be up very early. Then come the hyacinths — rising higher and higher as these first hght troops of blos- soms clear away, and going steadily on to their perfect bloom, regardless of frost or even snow. There is the white pyramid of Semiratnis, and the lovely Duchess of Bed- ford, and Belle Esther — her white dress pick- ed out with green. There is Triomphe Blan- dina, the great waxy bells in a flush of beauty; and Penelope, suffused with a mere thought of pink. Princess Royal wears her rose colour in two shades ; and Eendragt has flowers like a star ; and Tuba Flora one knows and names, even at a distance, so large, so beautiful. Norma, too is in the group, and the Duchess of Richmond. There stands OtJiello, as dark as he knows GARDENING BY MYSELF. 177 how, being only a hyacinth ; surrounded with the softer tints* of Mimosa and Charles Dick- ens and Niinrod ; and these in turn with Blocksberg^ RicJiai'd Steele, Env:^ye, and Gi'and Vedette, There are the yellow Louis d' Or and Piet Hein among the doubles ; with the deep-hued beauty, RJiinoceros, and Pluie d^ Or and its shower of pale gold. Neither must I forget my pet, La Cherie — the blue- eyed white lady that comes almost last of all, shunning the crowd. When these exquisite tufts of clear pink and white and yellow and purplish blue (true blue is the rarest thing among flowers) have graced your borders and gladdened your heart for a while, suddenly, some morning, there comes a change. Off among or beyond blues and pinks appears a spot of brilliant red, a streak of flame colour, — • and there is tulip Brutus open to the sun. Claremont Gold Lac follows close, and La Reine and the Grand Duke of Russia are not far behind. The garden has been full of love and beauty ; but now some dash and I yS GARDENING BY M YSELF. enterprise and display, — robes of purple, and great cups of gold, and banners of every shade of red. Even the Marriage dc ma fille is a marriage in high life, and the Bride of Haarlem is clearly " a lass wi' a tocher." How they " fall in," as the soldiers say, donning their colours in hot haste. The purple-striped Caiman, and Yelloiv Prince, and Couleur Cardinal. Dorothea Blanche holds her ground modestly, as some people will, in a white dress and pink cheeks ; and King Pepin is roj^al in his markings. How superb is the Duchess of Parma, in her court dress ; and Rose Gris de Lin and Proserpine, are like two roses for colour, and Lac von Rijn quite lovely in its quiet lilac and white. In gen- eral, I think the single tuhps are much the finest, — much more like tuhps, and one pre- fers to have a flower look like itself; yet there ai e great beauties among the doubles, with over-skirts extremely rich and bouf- fants. Besides some that I have named, Lncarnat Gris de Lin and Conqueror could hardly be improved. GARDENING BY MYSELF. lyg Then there are the parrot tulips — gay, rich, almost flaanting- — yet not quite ; with cups too large to be held up ; and last of all, the Show Tulips, as the florists call them ; late, tall, and of more regular beauty than most of the earl}^ kinds. No one who buys Cicero, or the Duchess of Brunswick, will think his money ill spent. Next in order of blooming, are my favour- ite hardy gladioluses (I follow '■' Agricultur- ist " authority in my plural) — by no means to be compared with the late-flowering French hybrids, and yet giving wonderfully pretty bloom, and plenty of it, long before their French cousins begin their toilet. Plant them in the autumn, and take the benefit of their cheapness. You can get them for eight or ten cents apiece. Lilies come next, and they too should be planted in the fall. But here I bethink me of my promise not to mention everything : remembering too that there are still left some things Avhich I ought not to pass hy. 1 80 GARDENING BY M YSELF. Iris, with its rich peculiar blossoms ; and Crown [mperial — gay but not sweet ; and the little Anomatheca cruenta, and all the rest of your catalogue ! Get everything you can, and especiall}^ all the Hlies ; and make sure that you have at least one of the old Liliuin candidiini. So old that it is rare ; sweet, elegant, spotless : worth dollars to you, though but fifteen cents to the florist. Between the time when your list is finish- ed, and with a sigh of relief that tells how great the perplexity has been 3^ou make a fair copy of the order and send it off, chang- ing the possible into the inevitable, — be- tween that time and the delicious minute when the bulbs arrive, each wrapped in its own soft labelled paper, and the " inevitable " order is changed back again into a box full of wonderful possibilities — to begin once more — between those two bits of time there is much to do. Of course you will question now and then with yourself, as to whether the box may arrive '^to-day;" but, mean- GARDENING BY M YSELF. 1 8 T time you will not forget that there are other things in the world besides bulbs. Do 3'ou want columbines for next year, or holly- hocks, or fox-glove, carnations, sweet wil- ham, or perennial poppies? Then sow them now. These should all be planted early, for if the young seedlings are not well estab- lished before winter, they will surely winter- kill. For larkspur and some other hardy annuals, it is enough if the seeds are in the ground any time before very cold weather. They will lie over till spring. Of course it may happen, that all your seeds for fall sow- ing are in the bulb box — another reason for ordering that early. OCTOBER. ** He hath made everything beautiful in his t me/* — ECCLES. 3 II. ryiHIS is so true, and the ever recurring JL freshness of the beauty is so new, so varied, that we are in a state of perpetual wonder as if we had nev^er seen it all be- fore. This sky is not the sky of June, but one look into its intense blue makes you content with the change ; and the river is dancing with sparkles and flecked with joy- ous white ; and the wind — '* Ay, thou art welcome, Heaven's delicious breath, When woods begin to wear the crimson leaf. This by day, — but there come other things by night. Have everything ready, so that you can remove tender plants into the house at a moment's notice ; when some (187,) GARDENING B V M YSELF. j 3 3 crispiness of the evening air tells of frost. Hardy plants that may yet need winter protection, need nothing now. The later they are covered, the better; for they might as well be frozen as smothered, and smoth- ered they will assuredly be if covered too early. The end of November is time enough for that. But make all preparations now, of every kind. Gather the leaves as they fall into some secure corner ; pile up your brush near at hand, and prepare soil and pots and labels. Make all your fall sowings in the reserve ground if possible, instead of the regular beds. Most of the seedlings are easily transplanted, and the beds are left free for the late or early digging — late and early, if you can give it — which is so important to the summer display. One of my beds suffered sadly this year in the dry weather, because, being full of bulbs, it had but a slight spring dressing; and so the ground hardened and dried as it never should. For this same reason, it is well, 1 84 GARDENING B Y M YSELF. where you can, to have certain beds just set apart for bulbs ; and then you can keep back some of your pot plants to fill them up when the bulb floAvers have passed away. For planting the bulbs you need only a good garden soil, well enriched with very rotten manure from the cow-yard, and soft- ened and lightened with sand and leaf- mould if it is too stiff. It is also very im- portant that the bed should be well drained ; therefore never on any account plant bulbs or tubers where the water will stand at any time. The same sort of soil may be used for bulbs in pots ; though if you want the very best results (according to Mr. Henderson), you should make for them a compost of decay- ed turfy loam, river sand, rotted manure and leaf-mould, well mixed together. Mr. Vick says where the soil is stiff, it is well to give each separate bulb a little bed of pure sand to rest in. But we are not come to the planting yet ; only I would say, have all your materials ready. The soil and the GARDENING B Y M YSELF. i g 5 sand and the pots ; the boxes, if they are to go in boxes ; the moss, if they are to be planted in moss. Shall I go further, and say, the turnip, if — ? '' No ; I most earnestly hope that everybody who has a turnip will put it to a more fitting use. Fancy content- ing oneself with a hoUowed-out turnip or carrot for a hanging-basket, while there was a yard of wire to be bought for two cents, or a handful of moss to be had for the gath- ering, or an old box in the world that one could cover Avith pine cones and bark ! If the ready-made pretty things are not at- tainable, set your wits to work and make still prettier. The stems of wild grape vines are fine twisting material, and bits of old hollow branches, or old knot-holes with their frame- work, may be cut and trimmed and fashioned into the daintiest bulb-hold- ers. Look about you in your walks, — gath- er conch shells by the seashore, if your path lies there ; or build up smaller shells and bright-hued pebbles into handsome con- glomerates of what shape you like. Then 16^ 1 86 GARDENING BY MYSELF. exercise your taste in suiting the bulb to the setting. Let nothing too elaborate spoil the simple beauty of crocuses and snow- drops ; and give tulips a holder which shall be dark and rich rather than gay. I believe, for me, there is nothing so pleasant as the plain red flower-pot, with its fresh brown earth, for any house plant, — making no pre- tensions, it seems to accomplish the more ; yet I have enjoyed a hyacinth in a glass very much, and some of the new crocus glasses are extremely pretty. As for porcupines, and beehives, and all the other enormities to which crocuses are sometimes condemn- ed, I think they are just — worse than tur- nips ! Could I say more ? As soon as your dahlia stalks are touched with the frost, cut them down ; and either take up the roots at once, or leave them (some say) to ripen for a week. Store them in dry sand, and keep them dry and warm. Not in a Jiot place, of course, but more than just above freezing; and so with your glad- iolus roots. Take up the cannas rather ear- GARDENING B Y MYSELF. i g/ ly, for too much frost on their leaves is said to affect the root, and store them also in sand. Cannas will winter well in a good dry cellar, but tuberoses do best with the dahlias and gladioluses. Not the old tube- rose roots, remember ; but the offsets, which will grow to a flowering size in two seasons. Datura roots too ma}^ be kept in sand. Most of the varieties are too tender for the winter outside. As the days turn cool, and the hope of open air results grows less and less, secure all you can to vary the colour and fragrance among your window plants. Stocks that have not yet bloomed will flower well in the house ; and a tard}^ young balsam, pot- ted and trained to a single stem, will be very handsome. So with some of the d .varf chrysanthemums, — though they should be left till the last minute. Try all sorts of experiments, — but try them careful- ly, and note the results. Excellent discov- eries are made in just this way. Another thing is to be noted just now. 1 8 8 ^^ RDENING BY M YSELF. For tnose whose garden-room — and some other things too — is hmited, it is very im- portant to have especially those flowers that bloom all the time. In a great place, if a whole flower bed is oat of bloom you hard- ly notice it, for the many that are in. But with us it is not so. Notice, therefore, as the season flies along, what blossoms ac- company it, wdiat others are scattered in its flight. Not everything will bear the frosts and cool winds even of October, and those that do are very precious. First here, as elsewhere, come the roses — small Washingtons in their way, and every- where taking the lead ; in sunshine, in cloud, in loving favour. Yet not all the roses. Lu- dovic Careau has long been flowerless, and Pio Nono shows not even a bud, and Cainille de Rohan reserves its brilliance for the glow of summer days. But juvSt look at my perpet- ual moss Salet. Two or three exquisite full-bloom roses, as pink as June and almost as sweet, with large scattered buds here and there, as yet muffled in their mossy GARDENING BY MYSELF, 189 cal^^x. Agrippma, the brilliant little Bengal, offers both buds and blossoms with calm unvarying regularity, very regardless of weather; and Mine. Bosanqiiefs paler face is seldom absent. Hermosa, too, shows deep spots of colour. Now^ look at Sombricl. Long nev/ shoots, thick set with their deep green leaves ; and bearing high in air a perfect array of buds, in every stage of growth, and two open roses. But oh ! such roses ! Translucent white, into which there has somehow crept a thought of colour — what colour, you cannot tell. The whole so waxy and pure and moulded, that you are ready to repeat the comical remark once made by a greenhouse visitor, and say thej^ are **just like artificial flowers." These do look "just like wax," only with a differ- ence, — the difference between life and death, the false and the true. Take one of Soinbrier s breaths of fragrance, and you will debate the wax question no longer. A beauty of another style is Souvenir de Malmaison with buds that are absolutely I go GARDENING BY MYSELF. huge ; three, four, and five of them crown- ing the stalk, disdaining any minghng with mere green leaves. And this great pink cup, almost as regular as porcelain ones and well nigh as deep, what is it like ? What, but a Malmaison rose? The clear pink hue, the assured air of a queen ; the dainty, coquet- tish air of a rose, — it is a superb flush and blood beauty. Not etherial, not spirituelle^ like Sombriel, the Malmaison has never learned — and does not believe — that " II faut souffrir, pour etre belle." There is nothing like roses, even for Octo- ber. I have counted (some years ago, when my garden was better filled than it is just now) two hundred roses in their perfection, on my own bushes, at one time, — and that time an October morning. And this did not include the over-blown roses, nor the half- open buds. Coming down from these heights, it is pleasant to see how many of the intrinsical- ly fine things, of humbler pretensions, yet GARDENING BY M YSELF. i g i hold their own. Mignonnette, always lovely and always sure, now outdoes itself; and sweet alyssum makes a small white wilder- ness that is very sweet indeed. And pinks show w^hite stars, and crimson stars, and stars of all shades ; and verbenas bloom steadily on. Pansies take breath after the summer heats, and look out upon the cool- ing- world with wide open eyes and expan- sive faces. There is a sort of sadness in the late bloom of the less hardy things, — the tube- roses, dahlias, and zinnias, which are so gay to-day and may be cut down to-night. One turns from them to the chrysanthemums, just coming out, defying the frost. Ah, Grub ! — • if you had only not eaten up my one Japan- ese specimen last spring ! However, Mr. Vick's wise counsel to rejoice over the flow- ers that live, rather than to mourn over those that die, is strictly in place here. Have I not Gloria Mundi, already answering to its name ; and Eve, softly opening out its paler tints ; with Dr. Brook's gay orange, and Ful^ 1^2 GARDENING BY MYSELF. gidiims deep red, and SiiowbaWs perfect white. I have seen this last loaded with its beautifully incurved, globe-shaped blossoms, and these in turn bearing a spotless weight of early snow, themselves almost as feathery and white. Chrysanthemums are just grand whenever the season is long enough to give them a chance. They thrive better, I think, for a light covering of brush or leaves dur- ing the winter months : not that they are not quite hardy ; but this seems to secure an early start in the spring, and for plants that may be called to a neck-and-neck race with the frost, an early start is very desirable. Among faithful, sure bloomers at this sea- son, I must not forget my lovely Louicera Halliana: perfectly hardy, a cloud of white sweetness in the early season, and from then until now never without a good show of its graceful blossoms. I got one two or three years ago from Mr. B. M. Watson (who I believe first introduced it in this country), and have had constant comfort in it ever since. GARDENING BY MYSELF. 193 When your bulbs arrive, choose out first those that are to be for winter pleasure in- doors. These must be first planted. And if you have others of your own, from last year, it is well to look them over carefully, and set aside such as already show starting roots or shoots. These are early kinds, and will probably give early flowers in the house. You may grow these pretty things in al- most any way, and " with gratifying re- sults." So florists will tell you, and they ought to know. Hyacinths, crocuses, snowdrops, scillas, narcissus, will consent to live and flourish in anything, for a sin- gle winter. You may take moss, or sand, or earth, or water ; you may use (it is not always choose) a flower-pot or an earthen bowl, a glass, a wire basket, an old box, or a noseless pitcher; and (if certain other conditions are met) your bulb will do its duty and rise superior to all surrounding circumstances. But remember that moss and sand must be kept moist, with even 17 1 94 GARDENING BY M YSELF. more care than earth ; and earth must be light and rich ; and the water in your bulb glasses must be always sweet and fresh. Not by changing it every week, as some direct, which is needless trouble and endan- gers the long roots ; only sprinkle the wa- ter at first (after the glass is filled) with fine powdered charcoal. It will slowly settle to the bottom of the glass, in an unnoticea- ble thin layer, and the water will never grow impure. All you have to do, is to add a little more from time to time. All florists (I believe) say that dark glass- es are the best, giving the roots a shadow at least of their natural seclusion. Fill the glasses with soft water up to the neck, just so high that the bulb can touch it, and no more. Planting in moss or sand I have never tried, having a strange fancy for seeing the bulbs in as natural a state as possible; but the authorities give this simple direction: If you plant in a bowl or vase having no drainage hole at the bottom, cleanse the GARDENING BY M YSE LF. j q^ moss well before planting : if a common flower-pot is used, this is not needful. Lay the moss lightly in, arrange your bulbs as you wish, and cover with more moss. Sand (sea-sand) must be washed to ^^t rid of the salt ; and river sand should be dried in the oven, to kill all animal hfe that may be there. The tiny shell fish of our river shore, will sometimes try the taste of land plants if they have a chance. Some planters mask the surface of the sand with moss, after the bulbs are in ; others like the contrast of the green leaves and silvery soil. But however you plant, the earth or moss or sand must be thoroughly watered at once ; and then the pots and boxes and glasses must be set away in a cool dark room or cellar, where there is neither frost, nor sunshine, nor mice. Florists generally advise the planting of several bulbs in the same pot. I can only say that with me it does not work well. One will bloom, and another will lan- guish, — three gay tulips, and one dying 196 GARDENING B V MYSELF. or dead, — two snowdrops up, and the third refusing to follow ; or one crocus in bud, and the other quite past its prime. If they are in separate pots, the failures can be remov- ed, and the rest closed in to hide the blank. Even for a great window-box I think I should put all the bulbs in pots. But of course that is a matter of fancy. If you have no good place in the house for your bulbs at first, set a large box or open frame in the garden, on a dry walk or a bed of coal ashes, place your pots on this, and fill in between them with coal ashes or tan. Then cover the frame with boards, or spread several inches of dry leaves, sand, or tan over the pots. Frost will not reach them for a long time here, and in ordinary seasons they need not be stirred before the middle of November. If you are impatient, and set your bulbs at once in the light, insisting that they should enact Young America, and bloom before taking root, do you know what you will have ? Something about as valuable as GARDENING BY MYSELF. 197 a basket of neglected onions, with slim green shoots a foot long ! All, or almost all, advice about flowers, must be received with a certain degree of caution and mixed with a few grains of good sense before using. Fifty miles off, the mid- dle of October is quite another time of year from our October I5.th ; and a wet clay soil, and a dry sandy one, make changes of sea- son and condition that must by no means be disregarded. While one place is revelling in the golden glory of the fall, another is al- ready fast in the chains of winter ; and the late weeks of November, which find my garden in perfect working order, in another region come down upon an unmanageable wilderness of wet or frozen clay. It is true we prepare the soil for our bulbs, helping them to forget these differences as far as may be. But if we forget them, there will be failures of some sort. A writer in one of the late papers says : " The earlier bulbs are planted in this month (October) the better." Now this is not al- 17* I q8 garden [ng by m yself. ways true. You must study your climate. They should be planted in time to have a good root-growth before cold weather, but not so early that the green shoot will begin to push its way ; nor so they will be up too soon in the spring, before the covering can be safely taken off You do not want your beauties working their way through the leaf blanket, and hanging their pretty heads beneath the weight of driving snow. The last of October, or early November, are my planting times here on the Hudson; and from September to December are the ex- treme limits in all winter-having places. But take notice, the bulbs must be planted in some part of that time ; you cannot wait till spring. Florists say, that orders are sent for tulips and hyacinths just when they are ready to bloom ! You must plant in the fall, with few exceptions. It is so hard for any but a practiced florist, having all facili- ties, to keep safely such kinds as may be kept for spring planting, that ordinary peo- ple had better not try. Lilies grow mouldy, GARDENING BY MYSELF. 199 and anemones dry awa}^ to powder ; all that you cannot plant this fall, let a florist keep for you till spring. If you cannot get them, you will at least not^lose your money. It is strange work to plant bulbs. Beau- tiful work, but strange; having a certain weird significance and likeness to greater things. Seeds are another matter. A few days, a week or two at most, brings up their fresh growth ; and even in this uncer- tain world we do all look ahead so far as that. It is the gentle time of year, too, when everything is tending towards sun- shine and blossom and fruit. They are but spring ventures. But for our bulbs ! — Sum- mer is behind them when they are planted, and before them stretch the long, long win. try months of ice and snov/, — the months of absent or tuneless birds, of half-hardy things that are dying, and tender things that are quite dead. The very year is fading when they are laid for their quiet sleep. The seeds spring up and grow we know- not how ; so swiftly, so suddenly, with 200 GARDENING B V MYSELF. such a full burst of life. But the bulbs once planted, lying inches deep beyond the sun- light, lie still and give no sign. The labels set here and there in the fresh smooth earth, might each one bear the inscription : " Wait." How long? And whose eyes shall sec the bed in its glory, when the winter is over and gone ? We know not. And so as I plant my bulbs, planning and mapping out, laying them carefully each in its place, there come through my heart these words: ''Who shall live when God doeth this?" I cannot tell. But of that other resurrec- tion I know ; though the waiting be long and desolate and wintry ; I shall not miss the glory of that spring. " For them which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him." N O V E M B E I? . Our leaves are shaken from the tree, And hopes laid low, That after our spring nurslings, we May long to go. — Gerald Massey. u A CHRISTIAN," says some old quaint /^ writer, " must be very careful to keep his spirits up when his condition in the Avorld goes down." The words came to me this morning, when I thought of the present condition of things in my Fairyland. There is no time, the season through, when the garden should take such heed to its personal appearance as now. The spring promise makes you foiget much; the sum- mer fulness makes you overlook more. ^YQw the blankness of winter brings its ex- cuse, for what can you expect then? But the fall is a time of struggle and change (201) 202 GARDENING BY M YSELF. and new relations, which may be very rich, or will be very desolate. Leave it to itself; let the weeds flourish and the flowers blow down ; let the frost- bitten plants lean hopelessly upon their hardier neighbours, and the fallen leaves cover the ground with their damp mat; and your garden will be dreary with the forlornness of unblessed sorrow. Loss and disappointment and death have taken so much, let them even have the whole ! — Ah that is a w^onderful mistake, in either case. Look around, and see what the frost has spared. Make the most of it, cherish it. Gather away the wreck and rubbish of dead associations and useless regrets ; espe- cially unearth the weeds — those '' roots of bitterness" which spring up but to trouble and defile. Remove with a smooth clean cut the broken branches, the hanging shreds of summer glory ; clip off the dry flowers that blossomed when so much else was fair; and look bravely at the ground which God has GARDENING BY MYSELF. 203 cleared. There is always work for you to do. It is astonishing how much can be done, — what transformations spring up under the wise hand of the fall gardener. Whole beds of mignonette, that were choked with de- caying leaves, shine out and bloom with more than summer fragrance. Late roses, blown from their support, and trailing their deUcate buds in soil and ruin, once lifted up and bound securely, shew tear- washed faces as lovely as an}^ June-kissed darling of them all. The heartsease revels in the cooler, fresher winds, with eyes so large and happy and quiet, that you cannot even miss the gay gladiolus and the dainty tuberose that once lived near by. And though zinnias are withered, and balsams are brown, and a hundred little beauties of the summer are sent into long, cold exile, yet there are white wreaths on the honeysuckle, and a few glowing pinks, w^hile chrysanthemums are in their glory. How strong they look ! 204 GARDENING BY MYSELF. how warm in their bright colours ! Even the pale and white-robed ones lift up brave faces to the wind. And if there is a sigh and a thought in your heart for the more delicate spring blossoms, that decked the w^orld " When feelings were young and the world was new," still give thanks for these ; for the glory of work and character and endurance, when the flush and promise of first things has passed away. You will find it sweet work to make the most of these late beauties ; training them up, displaying them to the sun. For chrys- anthemums, one or two barrel hoops, rest- ing on crotched sticks, make a very good support. Have hoops enough, and then let the flower stems lie loosely and at ease They should not be tied up stiffly, with stems bound close together so as to crowd the flowers. In the house, keep all your potted plants as cool as possible. They have but just GARDENING BY MYSELF. 205 come from the fresh air, and may easily " get a headache" — as Dr. Kane and some other people used to tent life have done, when first obliged to sleep indoors again. There are something less than a thousand and one ways recommended for the plant- ing of your hardy bulbs. . In ribband lines of different colours ; in separate clumps of one ; in regular one, two, three order, wherein red, yellow, blue and white follow each other without even a chance of escape : all these and many more are directed, ad- vised, and practised. A general helter- skelter style finds favour with some, and also the expensive fashion of having whole beds filled with a single colour and a single name. This may do well in great places, but I con- fess I should think the passed Ami du Coeur bed would look mournful, with the La Ciler- ies not yet in bud. However, where \vays are so many, and opinions so countless, it is a doubtful matter to put forth one's ov/n. Indeed for the great bulb owners, who have 18 2o6 GARDENING BY MYSELF. everything and can do anything, I have nothing to say. If they can plant Tuba Flora broadcast, and have a half acre of named crocuses, and an avenue of Lilium auratum, they may be safely left to their own devices. But we, with just a handful of beauties, how shall we dispose them to the best advantage ? I will tell you some rules that have wrought fine effects in my own garden. First, not planting too many together. For it is not a mere grand sweep of colour that we small florists want, but to study and enjoy the special individual plant. Not broad waves and stripes of tinted glory, a part of the great whole of our country seat ; but groups of lovely, fragrant tufts and bells, each 0:13 a friend, each known by sight; making home more like home, and helping with their quiet grace to soothe and hush and charm away the SQiall rough- nesses and weary breaths that come in the course of one's everyday life. A few hyacinths together will do this far better GARDENING BY MYSELF. 20/ than a crowd. Therefore plant in small groups. But next, make your groups different. Have no stiff* arrangement of colours, yet have an arrangement. You will find a grouping of pink and white hyacinths quite delicious in its harmony and contrast ; while the dark blues go excellently well with the pale yellow and lemon tints. The reds and paler blues are rich together; or the me- dium blues with the blush whites ; and so on. You will find work enough for your fancy, if you give it a chance. It rarely has a good effect to mix different sorts of bulbs in the same clump. The beauty of tulips, for instance, is so unlike that of hyacinths that they just put each other out. You lose the clear tints of the one, and the gay, dashing hues of the other. Snowdrops are too pale to stand among crocuses, and the Persian iris gets small credit for its lovely markings, if planted near the deep blue scilla or the bright purple bulbocodium. Give each sort a 2o8 GARDENING BY MYSELF. setting of space and brown earth, if you can ; and then you may pass from group to group with ever new refreshment and de- light. Another thing must be borne in mind. Some of your hyacinths are " tall," others ^' low ;" some are marked " early," and some bloom late. Now you want to have the clumps always symmetrical and shapely ; therefore study the placing of your bulbs from this new point of view. If all the early ones are at one side, if all the tall ones are in front, it is easy to see that the effect will not be good. I generally give the matter a good deal of study. When the ground is all prepared, and planting day has come, choose from your basket the bulbs for your first clump, and lay them out in order upon the bed — if hyacinths, six or eight inches apart, and tulips a little less, and crocuses not more than three. Then consider the arrange- ment, keeping each bulb in its labelled wrapper until you are ready to plant. And GARDENING BY MYSELF. 209 as fast as you plant each one, set by it a wood label with the name. Flyacinths should be set at least four inches deep, lilies somewhat more — say five or six ; and smaller bulbs somewhat less. Two inches is depth enough for a crocus. Lilies (the hardy ones) should be placed where they can be left several years without stirring, and cro- cuses and snowdrops will also thrive best to be let alone. Tulips and hyacinths do better taken up. As the frost will sometimes throw out your labels, and as it is also possible that some of them may be raked off with the covering of the bed in spring, I have found it save trouble to make a sort of map of each bed and group ; numbering each bulb on my list, and writing down the numbers in their proper place on my map ; so that if a label is missing, I shall still know what bulb was planted in that place. Until you have learned to know all your pets by name, it is a very good way. After planting, smooth the earth 18* 2 1 o GARDENING BY M YSELF. neatly down, but put no covering on as yet. I see it said by some advisers that it is not worth while to try to save your own bulbs. Take the good of them this year, then throw them away and buy more, for they will never be good for anything again. This is a mistake. Tuberoses indeed will not bloom a second season, unless in their be- loved Italian climate ; but all other bulbs that I have ever tried will live and flower admirably from year to year. If any of them see fit to abdicate at the summer's end, they always leave a successor so like them- selves that you cannot tell the difference. Much depends, of course, upon the care you take. The first spike of blossoms you have from a new bulb, is due, somebody says, to other care than yours. A bulb makes most of its preparations a year before- hand. But while this is true in a measure, its bloom of next year depends — by the same rule — upon you. Cultivate carelessly and you may well fling away your roots at GARDENING BY M YSELF. 2 1 1 the year's end. But if you plant right and manage right ; if when the red and blue glory of the flowers is departed you giv^e the green leaves their turn ; fostering them with no less care, and giving them every facility for perfecting their growth, that the bulb also may mature and ripen ; then you will have a rich reward for your trouble and patience. Then )^ou will find (as I have done) your tulip roots growing larger in- stead of smaller, from 3^ear to year. You will find none to buy so large, none more solid. Then, besides the little handful which you can afford to get new every fall, you will soon have roots b}^ the basket, — enough to fill all your spare places, and with some to bestow upon rooms and gardens more vacant, perhaps, than yours have ever been. This is a great pleasure : to place a single tuft of sweetness in a sick room ; to fur- nish a bright glow of beauty for a room full of nothing but toil ; a spot of freshness for weary eyes ; a reminder of the Lord's good hand for hearts bowed down with sadness. 212 ^^ RDENING BY M YSELF. No one knows but those who have been too poor to buy one hyacinth, what even one hyacinth can do. Therefore, for every reason, take the best care of your bulbs. Save even the little off- sets. Well planted and cared for, they will make fine flowering roots in a year cr two, and may yield a good deal even before that. I have got much pleasure from them in this way : If mixed in among the full grown bulbs, they would look insignificant ; there- fore I plant them by themselves, as they come, with not much arranging, but in good soil and at proper distances. And they make a sort of small world by themselves. Little spikes and little bulbs, but the clear- est, fairest colours ; not looking much like hyacinths, nor much like anything else, un- less a fairy garden. Planted so, you may fill a bed with them, or let them be one of the features in a large bed, — a lovely little variety, a cluster of baby blooms. Or they will make a pretty edging to a bor- der. Only give them all care, treat them GARDENING BY MYSELF. 213 with all respect, and they will pay you well. There are many common garden bulbs and tubers, quite hardy, that may be left un- stirred from year to year — indeed do best so. The daffodil, of blessed childhood me- mory, with the Poet's 7iarcissus and Orange Phonis of the same family, and Double White and Incomparable. Then there are peonies — great masses of colour or of white- ness ; and dicentra ; and amaryllis longi- flora, a very fine hardy bulb. In fact, / always want every thing I can get ! — and some that I can not. DECEMBER. These naked shoots, Barren aslances, amc^ng which the wind Makes wintr}' music, sighing as it goes, Shall put their gracefxil foliage on again, And more aspiring, and with ampler spread, Shall boast new charms, and more than they have lost. — Cozuper. IT is one of the happy things in this fitful human hfe, that we are all so ready to bridge over the times and places that seem empty and without interest. Once let the present lose relish, and straightway we stretch out our hands to grasp tlie future, and taste its sweets by anticipation. So extremes meet, and the echo of departing wheels gives place to the faint roll of the approaching, and the days of loss pass gently on into days of hope. Winter days are not often called by that (214) GARDENING BY M YSELF. 2 1 5 name ; yet they are days of patient waiting, " and if we hope for that we see not, then do we with patience wait for it." Patient waiting, — yes, that is it. I had left my garden in the bright, brave glory of November ; I came back to find it con- quered, frost-bound, white with December's snow. Not a bud, not a blossom ; not even the cheery face of one of my pansies to wel- come me home. Where are they all? Waiting. Even so must I wait, yet not in uncertainty. For *^ while the earth re- maineth, seed-time and harvest, and cold and heat, and summer and winter, and day and night, shall not cease." I know that the shrivelled leaves will have fair, fresh, successors. I know that hid away in the deep brown earth my tulips and hyacinths are safe ; perfecting their roots, preparing for a glorious blooming by and by. All tender things that need protection should have it before the ground freezes to any depth ; yet put it on as late as possible. The bulb beds need five or six inches of 2 1 6 GARDENING BY M YSELF. dry leaves, if you can get them ; if not, use litter or straw or some such substitute. Spread the leaves smoothly, and keep in place with a layer of light brush. Tender roses may be pegged down and sheltered with an arched roof of sods ; or common earth will answer nearly as well, unless the soil be stiff and full of clay. I think many dwarf kinds keep better if they are pruned close before covering; but it is easy to protect the whole bush if you open a slight trench at one side, and fasten the branches down in that. If the bush is too tall to lay down, a cone of straw or cedar brush will protect it well. Hardy perennials — pinks, chrysanthe- mums, lilies, and such like, will repay the trouble of covering them too ; but a very slight dressing of litter or leaves is quite enough. The garden will look pretty then, in its winter dress, when all this is done; and under their double blanket of leaves and snow, the roses and lilies will bide their GARDENING BY MYSELF. 217 time, and jour bulbs wait safely for the spring. It is less easy to take care of the indoor treasures, — they are so easily killed with kindness. Of course they must be kept from frost ; and a few tender ones, such as coleus and achyranthus, like a really warm room. But most common plants winter best in a dreamy state of inaction, unless they can have the regulated heat and moist air of a greenhouse. Put geraniums and fuchsias and roses and even lantanas, in a frost-proof room or cellar, giving them little water if they have little light, and they will " worry through " the winter somehow, and come out all ready for pruning and planting in the spring. If you have more zonale geraniums than you know what to do with, set them close together in an old box, pack- ing it quite full, and then fill in between with earth. Or you may hang them up in your cellar, heads down, with no earth within sight, and they will contrive to live along even so. 2 1 8 GARDENING BY M YSELF. Examine all your house bulbs from time to time; and when the long roots come near the bottom of the glasses, and the bulbs in pots begin to get an impatient look about the tips of their green or white shoots, as if they meant to rise in the world whether or no, then bring them into a warm room and the fullest light you can give. A few at a time is the pleasantest way, that so each may be enjoyed with the completest enjoyment, taking first those that seem the most forward. Place them as near as pos- sible to your sunniest window ; and remem- ber that now they will be very thirsty things indeed. Yet do not turn the soil into mud. I have not forgotten yet the look of one poor beauty, which seemed to have been just drowned out. The owner shewed it, exulting ; but the tender green shoot got no further. Turn the pots often, after they are placed in the window, to keep the plant-growth erect and symmetrical. It is melancholy enough to see a tall hyacinth lopping all to GARDENING BY M YSELF. 2 1 9 one side in its eagerness to find the sun ; not rising proudly up from its encircling leaves, but creeping out between them to- wards the window. Keep watch, therefore, and straighten your plants (of all sorts) every day if need be, by turning them round. The mere flower stem, of course, you could tie up ; but the bells would still have their own way. And besides, things never look so pretty tied, if they will stand up without it. Sometimes the leaves seem to get ahead of the flowers, and they grow tall and strong, while the little head of blossoms peeps timidly out from the very bottom of the cluster, but ventures no more. If you see this weakness of disposition in any of 3^our hyacinths, then treat them thus : Twist up a small cone of rather thick paper, leav- ing a little hole at the small end, and set it down close over the blossom shoot, within the leaves. Thrown thus into .sudden twi- light, with a single spot of brilliant light above its head, the spike will generally soon 220 GARDENING BY MYSELF, tire of its seclusion and begin to grow ; stretching itself up, reaching towards the sunshine which comes glinting through the paper cone and tells of the wonderful world beyond. And once in fair progress, the cone may be taken off and the aroused shoot left to itself Bulbs in the house are much more likely to suffer from heat than cold. This is true of almost all house plants. Yet some few like the heat ; and it now and then happens that a young seedling, or delicate just- rooted cutting, gets chilled. A keen wind sifting in through the window, a sudden change of weather, a neglected fire, may bring this about ; and then the little plant droops and hangs its head, and looks un- mistakably forlorn. In such cases I have found nothing so good as setting the plant at once in a very warm place. Sometimes on a high shelf in a stove-heated room, sometimes on the hearth before our open wood fire, I have placed the chilled things ; and presently, leaf by leaf, they would re- GARDENING BY MYSELF. 221 vive and straighten up and ''come to.' Of course you must watch carefidly against their getting too hot. But if the plants have been not only chilled but frozen, then you must treat them just the other way. Keep them as cool as possible (only above more freezing), and let neither fire nor sun come near them. A cold shower-bath will be much more bene- ficial. Do they say that last words should be few ? There are so many words that might be said about flowers, which even with all my talking I have failed to speak ! For instance, you all want to find out the secret of perpetual violets, which — (honest- ly) I do not know myself. " Ever-blooming " varieties are in the catalogues, but whether they will really give twelve months of sweetness — or six, for that matter — in return for anything less expensive than glass and gardeners, is something I have never yet proved to my own satisfaction. Even violets have their notions. It used to be 222 G^ RDENING BY M YSELF. said in New York, that the double Neapo- litans would not bloom south of Twentieth street for love or money. Then winter roses. If 3^ou can keep a set of them in pots through the summer, or even from the early fall, giving them the best of care and attention, so that the pots will be full of zvorking roots, i. e., the little white, ten- der rootlets which are the very power of a working plant ; and if you can give the roses abundant moisture overhead, and 50° by night and 65°-70° by day, — and if you have the right kinds, — then you may have plenty of bloom all winter. If this is not possible for you, as it rarely is for me, then be content with substitutes. Take forget-me-nots, when the violets fail ; and when those pass away, enjoy the beauty of your blue lobelias. And for the roses, — you must learn to love even the leafless twigs, and to wait. Bulbs will give you colour, and sedums will give you soft green to contrast with your darker ivy ; and Solanum jasminoides will climb over your GARDENING BY MYSELF. 223 windows and cover itself, the winter through, with lovely white clusters ol bloom. *' There are briars besetting every path That call for patient care ; There is a cross in every lot, And an earnest need for prayer ; But a iowly heart that leans on Thee, Is happy anywhere.**