-NRLF 
 
 bO 
 
 BY 
 
 K6LLWANG6R 
 

 The Gift of Beatrix Farrand 
 
 to the General Library 
 University of California, Berkeley 
 
 LANDSCAPE 
 
 ARCHITECTURE 
 
 REEF POINT GARDENS 
 LIBRARY 
 
THE GARDEN'S STORY 
 
 PLEASURES AND TRIALS OF AN 
 AMATEUR GARDENER 
 
 BY 
 
 GEORGE H. ELLWANGER 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 "THE STORY OF MY HOUSE" 
 
 Fair Quiet, have I found thee here? 
 
 ANDREW MARVELL THE GARDEN 
 
 FOURTH EDITION 
 
 NEW YORK 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
 
 MDCCCXCI 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1889, 
 BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, 
 
 Add to lib. 
 
 UANDSCAPE 
 
 ARCHITECTURE 
 
/ 
 
 
 
 ' 
 
 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. 
 
 836 
 
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 1700, ARTICLE LXXXIV. 
 
publication of a book on the Gar- 
 
 or no a piy tnere 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 fortho 
 
vn 
 
 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 bird 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. 
 
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 . . 299 
 XV. THE LAST MONK'S-HOOD SPIRE . . . 325 
 
 INDEX .....,,. 339 
 
tttftcn in Anticipation. 
 
 And the spring comes slowly up this way. 
 
 CHKISTABEL. 
 
 Or call it winter, which, being full of care. 
 Makes summer's welcome thrice more wished, more rare 
 
 SONNET LVL 
 
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 y a foretaste 
 
2Tf)e (JKartren's 
 
 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 trie dazzling rex rubro- 
 rums, the bizarres, and the tall marbled by- 
 blcems, 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 ; 
 
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 
 
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 
 
Statfcfyatfon. 7 
 
 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 Lilium 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." 
 
2Ff)e gfeartren's 
 
 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 right 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. 
 
glntfcfyatfon. 
 
 To 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 
 2 
 
io 
 
 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 
 
gfittfcfjmtfon. 
 
 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 JMna^in, storax, 
 tods, cinnamon, etetes, carctemofn, and 
 bean. Mix again, and leave for a few days, 
 when add essential oil of jas*me, violet, tuber- 
 ose, an4-attaf of roses, together with a hint of 
 ambergris or urask, 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 
 
12 2Ff)e (SJartren's 
 
 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 
 
&ntfcfjmtfon. 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 OTe <at&en's 
 
 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-courters of spring continue to blos- 
 som diurnally through the post, in the shape of 
 flower and vegetable catalogues. These unfold 
 
Jht ^tttfctpatfoti. 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 Ipomcea 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 
 
 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 
 
En &ntfcf{mtton. 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 STf)e (Kartien's 
 
 who imported them ! He should be incinerated, 
 and his ashes blown by the four winds to the 
 four quarters of the globe." 
 
 The melancholy fact exists, notwithstanding, 
 that the sparrow is here, and stands urgently in 
 need of a prescription. He has succeeded in his 
 dual rdle of harassing both mankind and his 
 own desirable congeners. One by one he has 
 driven away the song-birds from our home- 
 steads, appropriating the nesting-places of the 
 wren, the bluebird, and others, whose presence 
 was invaluable in the orchard and among small 
 fruits. The oriole still remains, concealed by 
 the apple-bloom, or comparatively secure from 
 assault in his rocking-chair in the elm. The 
 song-sparrow and purple martin are diminishing 
 yearly, the robin, blackbird, and oriole alone 
 being able to resist his malicious persecution. 
 In like manner, the Rocky Mountain trout has 
 been placed in streams tenanted by the speckled 
 trout, only to override and diminish a superior 
 game-fish. Can not the champions of the Eng- 
 lish sparrow people' the country with the Austra- 
 lian rabbit, or disseminate the Swiss goitre, as 
 an act of philanthropy ? A State or Govern- 
 ment bounty on the sparrow's head would help 
 to thin his polygamous brood ; his slaughter for 
 " potted game " would add largely to the score ; 
 
19 
 
 the sportsman's trap might ingulf him by the 
 thousands ; and wholesale netting, as practiced 
 abroad, would well reward those who supply the 
 restaurant larder. The shrike, or butcher-bird, 
 is an admirable matador so far as he goes, and 
 would, no doubt, end in exterminating him, with 
 man's assistance, did he exist in sufficient num- 
 bers. Let us pray, meanwhile, for the advent of 
 a sparrow-bug, or Passer-aphis some insect- 
 scourge such as besets the inanimate world to 
 aid in delivering us from this feathered Philis- 
 tine. 
 
 The chimney-swallows, which last summer 
 awakened me with their chattering and whirring 
 in the chimney, at all times of the night and 
 early morning, will trouble me no more. A wire 
 screen placed across the top of the chimney has 
 rendered a little folding of the hands to sleep 
 possible at five in the morning. The chorus of 
 the Hylodes, or peepers, is yet in store that 
 piercing treble launched against the quiet nights 
 of early spring that nothing even the katydid 
 can equal in strident intensity, and that no earth- 
 ly power can still. Fancy attempting to go to 
 sleep in a country house near a swampful of 
 these shrieking demons ! " It is a plaintive 
 sound, a pure spring melody," says Burroughs, 
 for once apparently forgetting himself, or led 
 
20 2Tf)e Barton's 
 
 astray by its association with spring. But he 
 sets us comparatively at ease by stating that 
 there is a Southern species heard, when you have 
 reached the Potomac, " whose note is far more 
 harsh and crackling. To stand on the verge of 
 a swamp vocal with these, pains and stuns the 
 ear. The call of the Northern species is far 
 more tender and musical." It is at least some 
 consolation to know there are others worse off 
 than ourselves. 
 
 The uproarious crow-blackbird, too, is sure 
 to return to the Lombardy poplars in April. A 
 volley of coarse shot alone can drown his dis- 
 cordant gutturals, which he hurls at you in utter 
 disregard of the exquisite sensitiveness of the 
 human tympanum. Fortunately for mankind, 
 he is less numerous than the nauseous sparrow, 
 or deafness were necessarily the all-prevailing 
 malady. How many of these oral miseries there 
 are awaiting us ! It is enough to develop a 
 gouty diathesis to think of them. 
 
 The blue-jay is almost always referred to as 
 the most discordant among the birds, while little 
 fault is found with the harsh voice of the grackle 
 or crow-blackbird. Compared with the latter, 
 the jay is a paragon in manners, dress, and 
 every characteristic, unless we except his habit 
 of pilfering the nests of his neighbors. His 
 
glntfcfjmtfon. 21 
 
 voice certainly has a meaning from his vantage 
 in the tree-tops. It is emphatically a cry of 
 warning, uttered loud enough for every feather 
 in the forest to hear, that an enemy is intruding 
 upon the sacred domain. His crest of sapphire 
 would atone for his shrill clarion, were not the 
 meaning of his cry a sufficient excuse in itself. 
 The grackle, on the other hand, only screams 
 incessantly to hear himself scream, and to drown 
 the voices of the song-birds. 
 
 In Harris's " Treatise on Insects injurious to 
 Vegetation," the crow-blackbird is made to pose 
 as a public benefactor. The reader, at first 
 shocked by the statement that " few persons, 
 while indulging in the luxury of early green 
 peas, are aware how many insects they uncon- 
 sciously swallow," is somewhat relieved later on 
 by being told that these " buggy peas " contain, 
 in the first instance, a minute whitish grub, 
 which larva is changed to a pupa within its hole 
 in the pea in the autumn, and before spring 
 casts its skin again, becoming a beetle (Bruchus 
 ptsi), only to fly out into the awaiting maw 
 of the crow-blackbird ! " Buggy peas," I admit, 
 do not sound appetizing at first hearing ; still, 
 were we to draw the line at such trifles, I fear 
 our vegetable diet would necessarily be greatly 
 restricted. So long as we eat the insects with 
 
22 2H)e (JKar&en's? 
 
 the special vegetables they infest, there can be 
 but little objection. The strawberry and rasp- 
 berry parasites are, certainly, exceptions ; for no 
 one could taste and swallow more than one of 
 either, and live to tell the tale. The mushroom- 
 worm, the cabbage-louse, the lettuce-hopper, the 
 Brussels-sprout thrip, and dozens of other jump- 
 ing, wriggling things which the cook sends to 
 table, possess invariably the exact flavor of the 
 several vegetables they garnish. It would only 
 be by serving the wrong or foreign insects with 
 a particular dish that any gastronomical syncre- 
 tism could result. The argumentum ad gulam 
 advanced for the existence of the crow-black- 
 bird is, therefore, untenable, and I fail to dis- 
 cover any excuse for allowing him to usurp the 
 place of the starling, with whom he is forever 
 quarreling. 
 
 Another blanket of snow has been heaped 
 upon us, just as the previous vestiges had dis- 
 appeared and there were hopes of an end to 
 the interminable hibernation. It was a halting 
 philosopher who termed snow the poor man's 
 manure, for want of a proper definition. The 
 ammonia it contains one might better be with- 
 out at this season, when every shrub, plant, and 
 grass-blade- is crying for the caress of the rain. 
 Apparently the snow came from the asperous 
 
gftitfcfyatfon. 23 
 
 east. I have wondered why the east wind 
 should be so unkind, coming, as it does, from 
 lands sentient with sunshine and steeped in 
 tropic warmth. A wind like Ruskin's " plague- 
 wind, made of dead men's souls such of them 
 as are not gone yet where they have to go, and 
 may be flitting hither and thither, doubting 
 themselves of the fittest place for them." I find 
 the east wind has been grossly maligned ; it is 
 the west wind that bears the venom of Boreas and 
 the stratus-cloud in its icy breath, surging on an 
 upper current of the atmosphere, and coming 
 only in appearance from the east on a counter 
 under-current of air. The Rocky Mountains are 
 the real seat of the dreaded " easterly " storm, 
 and they not the east wind deserve our strict- 
 ures. 
 
 In point of viciousness and duration the pres- 
 ent equinox exceeds any other I have known. 
 The chanticleer on my neighbor's house-top has 
 been whisking seemingly from each point of the 
 compass at once ; and every variety of weather, 
 from an east wind bitter as quassia to the most 
 brutal of westerly blizzards, has raged unremit- 
 tingly for six days. I defy even Sir Admiral 
 Fitzroy to forecast the weather from so hetero- 
 geneous a horoscope a combination of winds 
 that has blown evil to me and good to my al- 
 
24 2T|)e (Sfartren's 
 
 lopathic doctor, whom I shall exchange for a 
 homoeopathist if I survive to undergo another 
 vernal equinox in this latitude. Without a word 
 of warning, I awoke in the night with the sensa- 
 tion of having been pounded in a mortar, and 
 with a Spanish chestnut-burr sticking in my 
 throat. I never realized before what the inno- 
 cent-looking yellowish mixture was that he pre- 
 scribed for the children potash and iron with 
 which he has been deluging me almost hourly, 
 night and day. A doctor ought to be exiled for 
 forcing such revolting stuff upon helpless pa- 
 tients a remedy which is almost worse than 
 the disease. Hugh Miller's " Testimony of the 
 Rocks," or Borden Bowne's " Studies in The- 
 ism," would be a delicious lenitive, in compari- 
 son. If I live, I shall find out whether his state- 
 ment is true : that it is the great catholicon for 
 diphtheritic and laryngeal troubles, and that 
 nothing else can disperse the dusky spots on 
 one's throat, or cause the white ones to " ex- 
 foliate," as he pathologically expresses it. It 
 was an exhilaration to me, with all sense of 
 taste and smell temporarily destroyed through 
 his vile prescription, to learn that he had an 
 allopathic doctor under treatment, and was dos- 
 ing him in the same wholesale manner that he 
 was medicating and mending me. 
 
fin ^ntfcfpatfon. 25 
 
 I shudder when I think of the books I ought 
 to "assimilate," directly and indirectly, in con- 
 nection with the subject of gardening. Think 
 of it ! Darwin's " Vegetable Mold and Earth- 
 Worms," Dyer's " Natural History of a Flow- 
 ering Plant," Harris's "Talks on Manures," 
 Warder's " Hedges and Evergreens," Darwin's 
 " Climbing Plants," Berthold Seemann's " Re- 
 vision of the Natural Order Hederacese," Ben- 
 tham and Hooker's " Genera Plantarum ad Ex- 
 emplaria imprimis in Herbariis Kewensibus ser- 
 vata definita," Loudon, Downing, Lindley there 
 is, apparently, no end to them. 
 
 The illustrations of the unabridged diction- 
 aries, too, that one is forced to encounter ; the 
 cuts of the snakes and the reptiles that are coiled 
 around every other page of a book one is com- 
 pelled to read ! One always opens the diction- 
 ary at the snake pages, or is confronted with a 
 growling peccary, a hooded basilisk, a Mephitis 
 Americana, or open-mouthed crocodile, to pro- 
 mote a shiver that is liable to develop into bron- 
 chitis. The most barbarous words, likewise, 
 seem always placed at the top of the page in 
 staring capitals medical and scientific terms 
 one must perforce swallow, even though the 
 dose be nauseating. The serpent and lizard 
 appear to be the favorites of the lexicogra- 
 3 
 
26 
 
 phers ; I find no cut of the fruit which tempted 
 Eve. As to the flower and tree illustrations, 
 the representations that have served to portray 
 Ltlium bulbiferum, the magnolia, and the weep- 
 ing-willow, are past praying for. They have all 
 done valiant duty, and deserve to be placed upon 
 the retired list with a liberal pension. 
 
 The gardener has just called, bringing the 
 cut flowers and his summary resignation at the 
 same time. He, too, has caught the spring 
 fever and desires a change. How we will miss 
 his Brussels-sprouts and endive. He was worth 
 having for his success in vegetables alone ; he 
 knew enough to cut asparagus close to the 
 ground without being told, and his heads of 
 cauliflower were so delicious au grattn ! What 
 is to become of all the spring work, mean\\hile, 
 which comes upon one so suddenly when it final- 
 ly does come ? Think of all the flower-borders 
 that have to be uncovered, the leaves to be raked 
 up and carried to the pile of leaf-mold, the 
 spring-manuring and spading, the seed- sowing 
 and pruning, the lawn-raking and rolling, and 
 the general cleaning and overhauling ! If I take 
 a hand in it myself, there is always the danger 
 of catching cold, and not for worlds would I 
 undergo another medication. I must get Cas- 
 per, the former German gardener, back again, 
 
fin &nticfjmtfon. 27 
 
 What if he did let the greenhouse plants be- 
 come a prey to the red spider? he was always 
 so good-humored, and accomplished so much! 
 Your short, burly, broad-backed gardeners some- 
 how always work easily and quickly ; they have 
 not so far to bend over ; the weeds jump up to 
 them, and they handle a rake as if it loved them. 
 A Mecklenburger for work and an Irishman for 
 blarney. 
 
 The long-awaited change has come at last 
 the promise the wild geese flying north chorused 
 from the upper air. Song- sparrow, bluebird, 
 meadow-lark, plover, and redwing have dropped 
 down suddenly and simultaneously from the sky, 
 and from the swamps I hear the croaking of the 
 frogs, eager to drink of the first warm rain. The 
 scarlet maple (Acer rubrum) is bursting into 
 bloom, and one can almost see the grass sprout- 
 ing, so thirstily does it absorb the moisture. 
 The woodcock have already returned to their 
 summer haunts ; I found them on the dry knolls 
 March 25th. Referring to the record of the past 
 eighteen years, the tables show that an early 
 spring occurs about every other year in this vi- 
 cinity. In 1880 the robin appeared February 
 27th ; the bluebird and song-sparrow a day later. 
 In 1874 and 1878 they appeared simultaneously 
 March 3d, compared with March 27th, 28th, and 
 
28 2Tf)e (SJarDeu's 
 
 29th in 1885. In 1880 and 1882 the scarlet 
 maple blossomed March 2d ; in 1872, 1873, and 
 1879, April loth ; in 1885, April 2Oth. The 
 earliest pipings were sounded from the marshes 
 March 9th in 1877 and 1878; the latest, April 
 2Oth in 1885 and April I4th in 1874. The earli- 
 est high temperatures recorded were those of 
 March 31, 1875, 69; March 27, 1882, 64; 
 April 23, 1885, 90. 
 
 Compared with previous seasons, therefore, 
 the present has been no worse than the average. 
 One must needs be grateful for the meager pit- 
 tance March doles out in the way of blue skies 
 and stray shadows on the garden dial. The last 
 few days of the month have been prodigal of 
 sunlight; and see, the urn of the first crocus 
 already flaunts its hoarded gold to herald the 
 returning flowers of spring ! 
 
Qin ntline of tl]e arbcn. 
 
 Every wyse man that wysely would learn anything, shall 
 chiefly go about that whereunto he knoweth well that he shall 
 never come. In every crafte there is a perfect excellency 
 which may be better known in a man's mind than followed in 
 a man's deede. This perfectnesse, because it is generally layed 
 as a broad, wyde example afore all men, no one particular 
 man is able to compasse. ROGER ASCHAM. 
 
II. 
 
 AN OUTLINE OF THE GARDEN. 
 
 OGER ASCHAM might have alluded 
 to gardening when he penned the 
 foregoing lines. The art of garden- 
 ing is comparatively easy in theory ; its consum- 
 mation is more difficult in the soil. And it is 
 not unlikely we shall find the author of " The 
 Scholemaster " easier to read between the lines 
 than appears at first sight, in the interval that 
 shall elapse between the matins of the first 
 snow-drop bells and the vespers from the last 
 monk's-hood spire. 
 
 I write of the hardy flower-garden. This 
 may be large or small, though, beyond a certain 
 indispensable area, its perfected beauty depends 
 not so much upon mere size as upon intelligent 
 treatment. A small plot properly laid out, judi- 
 ciously planted, and kept in finished order, will 
 produce more satisfactory results than ten times 
 
32 f)e 
 
 the space poorly cultivated and insufficiently 
 maintained, It is essentially a garden maxim, 
 that whatever is worth doing at all is worth 
 doing well. So that, first of all, the grounds 
 should be no larger than can be properly looked 
 after. Grass-grown walks, untrimmed edgings, 
 a lawn run to weeds, at once proclaim the un- 
 tidy gardener, and detract from the best efforts 
 of the flowers themselves. I do not speak of 
 the stiff, formal garden, divided into methodical 
 squares, where everything must be equally bal- 
 anced ; or of " bedding-out," " carpet," or " rib- 
 bon " gardening. I speak of the hardy flower- 
 garden, where, in its effect as a whole, a sense 
 of tidiness combined with natural grace of out- 
 line and harmony of grouping should prevail. 
 If the space be too large to be perfectly main- 
 tained, diminish it ; but let whatever space there 
 may be under cultivation suffer no neglect or 
 show no parsimony of care. 
 
 No arbitrary rules will suffice to produce a 
 perfect garden, for, in the very nature of things, 
 no two gardens can be just alike. Each one 
 should seek his own expression in the combina- 
 tion he strives for. For this there exists infinite 
 variety of material, adaptable to the particular 
 soil, exposure, and character of the space one 
 would adorn and idealize. A charming feature 
 
&n utlfne of tf)e garlren. 33 
 
 of one garden may not be allowable in another, 
 either through lack of space, difference of expo- 
 sition, or natural incongruity. Thus, a minia- 
 ture pond for the cultivation of bog-plants a 
 delightful feature of the garden where it may be 
 carried out can not be introduced with propri- 
 ety on high exposures. Nor can a bank of ferns 
 be placed to advantage where they have not the 
 coolness and shade with which they are asso- 
 ciated, and without which they can not be satis- 
 factorily grown. In a large place, possessing the 
 resources of abundant shade and variety of sur- 
 face, there are few desirable effects which can 
 not be produced. Here the landscape-gardener 
 proper has a field for the practice of his art, and 
 the proprietor an occasion for the gratification of 
 his taste. In small grounds, however, as distin- 
 guished from the large estate, one need not be a 
 Croesus to enjoy the pleasures of gardening. 
 There is force in Bacon's statement : " A man 
 shall ever see that, when ages grow to civility 
 and elegance, man comes to build stately sooner 
 than to garden finely ; as if gardening were the 
 greater perfection." And yet, with the wonder- 
 ful advancement of the arts in this country dur- 
 ing the latter part of this century of progress, 
 the art of gardening, it must be admitted, has 
 also nhown marked improvement. Occasionally 
 
34 We ^arlren's Storg. 
 
 we find those who are content with a geranium- 
 bed as the means of outward embellishment ; 
 more often a finer perception of external adorn- 
 ment is manifested, though Bacon's statement 
 remains apposite to - day. The objectionable 
 forms of gardening, however, are being super- 
 seded by a more natural style a revival of the 
 old-fashioned hardy flower-borders, masses of 
 stately perennials, the hardy fernery, the rock 
 and bog garden, the azalea and rhododendron 
 beds. Poor indeed is the city veranda which 
 has not its Clematis Jackmani to flutter the 
 purple of royalty, and lonely the door-yard with- 
 out its clump of madonna lilies or perpetual 
 roses. A comparison of the flower-catalogues 
 of to-day with those of fifteen years ago shows 
 beyond contradiction the advancement of the 
 cultivation of hardy plants. Notably the case 
 with new varieties of roses and flowering shrubs, 
 progress is also observable with perennial flow- 
 ers. The tendency of the age to cast aside poor 
 for better forms, to resurrect or improve the old, 
 includes the flower-garden among the many 
 things to feel its quickening influence. Material 
 we have in abundance ; it only remains for us to 
 utilize it and adapt it to the ends in view. To 
 create the ideal in landscape floriculture, to sur- 
 round ourselves with lovely forms of nature, with 
 
&n utlfne of tlje CSartien. 35 
 
 no discords to jar upon the sense of harmony, 
 can only be attained by carrying out the sugges- 
 tions of nature itself, applying them with all their 
 possibilities of modification, change, and adapta- 
 tion to the means we would attain. 
 
 From the first, all appearances of stiffness 
 and rigidity of outline, whether of walks, road- 
 ways, or borders, will be studiously avoided. 
 The natural line of beauty we should attempt to 
 reproduce. The placing of ornamental trees 
 and shrubs will depend on the situation and ex- 
 posure ; the arrangement and grouping of flow- 
 ers and foliage-plants, on one's sense of color and 
 correct interpretation of effects. 
 
 I like the hardy shrub border, the low-grow- 
 ing and comparatively less robust shrubs, for a 
 screen next the highway ; for no garden, I think, 
 can be satisfactory without privacy. Glimpses 
 of the interior may be afforded the passer-by, 
 but retirement and shade constitute two of the 
 greatest charms of the garden. The hardy shrub 
 border combines privacy and beauty. In it I 
 would have, among others, for the larger sub- 
 jects, the Japan quinces ; many of the Deutzias ; 
 the common barberry, for its colored fruit in au- 
 tumn ; the purple-leaved, for its effective foliage ; 
 the light-colored althaeas, or rose of Sharon ; the 
 Calycanthus, or sweet-scented shrub, for its fra- 
 
36 STfje CKartretv'st 
 
 grance ; the large-flowered and changeable hy- 
 drangea ; the dwarf and golden-leaved syringas, 
 or mock-orange ; the double-flowering Prunus ; 
 the spiraeas in variety ; the fragrant Ribes, or 
 yellow flowering currant ; some of the small- 
 er lilacs ; the dwarf sweet-scented Magnolia 
 Halleana ; the Exochorda, the Daphne meze- 
 reum, the variegated dogwood, the white Wei- 
 gela, the purple-leaved plum, the cut-leaved su- 
 mac, the golden, fern-leaved, and cut-leaved elder. 
 Such strong-growing subjects as the For- 
 sythias, the large magnolias, the snow-ball, and 
 the lilac are apt to domineer over their compan- 
 ions. If possible, they should be placed by 
 themselves where they may have abundance of 
 room to develop their full beauty. Even with 
 most of the less robust examples I have enumer- 
 ated, the pruning-knife must be applied at the 
 proper season, to keep them shapely and within 
 bounds. It should always be remembered that 
 each shrub has its characteristic habit of growth. 
 This should be retained, so far as possible. To 
 trim all shrubs alike, is to ruin their beauty and 
 mar their natural grace of outline. Judicious 
 pruning, to promote health and vigor, is neces- 
 sary. Old growth requires thinning out occa- 
 sionally, and obtrusive root-sprouts and suckers 
 need to be removed. Althaeas, spiraeas, lilacs, and 
 
&n utlfne of tfje (Sartien* 37 
 
 honeysuckles may be trimmed early in spring. 
 Deutzias, Forsythias, mock-oranges, and Wei- 
 gelas flower on the wood of the preceding year's 
 growth, and should be pruned after June flower- 
 ing, when the old wood may be shortened or cut 
 out. Evergreens may be pruned in April or 
 May, to thicken the growth and preserve shape. 
 Happily, the practice of shaving trees and shrubs, 
 the art of " verdant sculpture," is less common 
 than formerly. Legitimately used to assist 
 Nature, the pruning-knife becomes a valuable 
 assistant ; too often it is the means of destroy- 
 ing identity of form. 
 
 Of the scores of Weigelas or Diervillas under 
 cultivation, I know of few to be recommended 
 for the choice collection of hardy shrubs. For 
 the most part the flowers are of a displeasing 
 color, while the shrub takes up a large space 
 which, with the " rose-colored " kinds, might be 
 occupied to far better advantage. 
 
 For the dwarfer shrubs and plants of the 
 hardy shrub border I should employ such sub- 
 jects as the tree and herbaceous pseonias, the 
 large perennial phloxes, the two forms of the 
 Japanese anemone, and some of the taller lilies. 
 The tall and hardy reed-like grasses Erian- 
 thus ravennce, Eulalta japonica and its varie- 
 ties may be used with good effect in both the 
 
38 
 
 shrub and flower border, though still more strik- 
 ing by themselves. 
 
 The width of the shrubbery border should 
 depend upon its length, and also upon the ex- 
 tent of space between the highway and the resi- 
 dence. - Very wide borders, where the frontage 
 of a place is not deep, contract the grounds and 
 curtail the expanse of lawn. Judicious planting 
 becomes the more necessary the wider the bor- 
 der, or large patches of bare ground will obtrude. 
 Very long, narrow borders are equally objection- 
 able, and have a stinted look. 
 
 I take it for granted the lawn will receive 
 the consideration it deserves. Undoubtedly the 
 most important element of beauty of the grounds, 
 without it all other forms of embellishment go for 
 little. Green is the natural relief of floral color ; 
 and in no way does floral color stand revealed 
 so vividly as when set off by a perfect sward. 
 To form a perfect lawn, 
 
 ful thikke of gras, ful softe and swete, 
 
 requires pains. The soil must neither be too 
 poor nor too rich, but contain a sufficient depth 
 of good garden soil to insure against drying out 
 during hot weather. Above all, earth removed 
 in excavating, usually composed of clay or gravel, 
 should never be used for surface soil, as is not 
 
0n Outline of tfje CKartren. 39 
 
 unfrequently the case. Jealous guard should be 
 kept, when sewer or other excavations are made 
 at any time, that the subsoil be not left upon the 
 surface, or dry grass patches will invariably show 
 themselves with the first hot weather. 
 
 With what grasses should the turf be formed ? 
 This has been answered a great many times in 
 a great many ways. Assuming that the sower 
 knows precisely what kind of seed he would sow, 
 the difficulty arises of procuring pure seeds of 
 the species desired ; the only sure way is to have 
 the seeds tested by an expert. I quote two au- 
 thorities on the best grasses for the lawn. 
 
 W. J. Beal : " Two sorts of fine Agrostis are 
 sold under the trade name of Rhode Island bent, 
 and, as trade goes, we may consider ourselves 
 lucky if we get even the coarser one. The finest, 
 a little the finest Agrostis canina is a rather 
 rare, valuable, and elegant little grass, which 
 should be much better known by grass farmers 
 as well as gardeners than it is. The grass usu- 
 ally sold as Rhode Island bent is Agrostis vul- 
 garis, the smaller red-top of the East and of 
 Europe. This makes an excellent lawn. Agros- 
 tis canina has a short, slender, projecting awn 
 from one of the glumes ; Agrostis vulgar is lacks 
 this projecting awn. In neither case have we 
 in mind what Michigan and New York people 
 
call red-top. This is a tall, coarse native grass, 
 often quite abundant on low lands, botanically 
 Agrostis alba. Sow small red-top, or Rhode 
 Island bent, and June grass (Kentucky blue- 
 grass, if you prefer that name), Poa pratensts. 
 If in the chaff, sow in any proportion you fancy, 
 and in any quantity up to four bushels per acre. 
 If evenly sown, less will answer ; but the thicker 
 it is sown the sooner the ground will be covered 
 with fine green grass. We can add nothing else 
 that will improve this mixture, and either alone 
 is about as good as both. Under no circum- 
 stances sow a little oats or rye ' to protect the 
 young grass.' Instead of protecting, they will 
 rob the slender grasses of what they most need/' 
 Daniel Batchelor : "As to the grasses best 
 adapted to soils and situations, it may first be 
 said that a wet soil is hardly to be considered as 
 a fit situation for a lawn ; nevertheless, there are 
 places where a moist condition of the soil can 
 not well be avoided, and for such the best grasses 
 are Poa trivialis, or rough-stalk meadow-grass ; 
 Alopecarus pratensis, or meadow fox-tail ; and 
 Agrostis vulgaris, or red-top. For average good 
 soil I have had the best results from a seeding, 
 in about equal proportions, of Poa pratensis, 
 or Kentucky blue-grass ; Festuca duriscula, or 
 hard fescue ; Agrostis canina, or creeping bent ; 
 
&n Outline of tfje gSarlren. 41 
 
 Cynosurts crtstatus, or crested dog's-tail ; and 
 Lolium Paceyz, or Pacey dwarf rye-grass. The 
 two last named are especially adapted to light, 
 dry soils, as they are deep-rooted and very 
 fibrous, and will continue green in the driest 
 of weather, even when the Kentucky blue is ap- 
 parently dead. I may here state that there are 
 hundreds of bushels of English rye grass-seed 
 imported and sold for Pacey's dwarf rye, but it 
 is a cheat, as the former is not hardy in our cli- 
 mate. Pacey's is quite a hardy variety, and is, 
 I think, of Scottish origin ; at any rate, it is one 
 of the best grasses for either lawn or sheep- 
 pasture. 
 
 " Some persons recommend, in mixtures, such 
 grasses as the Festuca ovina, or sheep's fescue, 
 and the Festuca tenuzfolza, or slender fescue. 
 I think that both of these are objectionable on 
 fine lawns, as they grow erect and tufty, while 
 the leaves are round, wiry, and sedge-like ; the 
 color, too, of both is blue, especially that of the 
 slender fescue ; and, altogether, these grasses 
 look intrusive and patchy when contrasted with 
 the flat, ribbon-shaped foliage of those I have 
 ventured to name with approval." 
 
 The addition of white clover to whatever 
 grasses one may sow is a matter of individual 
 preference. On some light soils it is a most 
 4 
 
4 2 
 
 valuable adjunct, if not a necessity, and many 
 would not be without its sprightly presence. 
 But of whatever grasses the lawn may consist, 
 the necessity of drainage in low situations, and 
 thorough preparation of the ground in all cases, 
 will be readily conceded. It is only in good, 
 well-drained soil that the finer grasses will re- 
 main verdurous during the intense heats of mid- 
 summer. Spring is doubtless preferable to au- 
 tumn sowing, still, in cases where it can be 
 done, it is a positive advantage to prepare the 
 ground in autumn, and allow it to settle thor- 
 oughly through the winter. The addition of a 
 small per cent of lime at the outset is to be rec- 
 ommended, except on thin, sandy soils. These 
 should be fortified with a liberal supply of old 
 manure and good loam and muck, with the ad- 
 dition of a sprinkling of quicklime. Thorough 
 rolling previous and subsequent to seeding is of 
 prime importance. 
 
 Once formed, it is a common error to sup- 
 pose the lawn will take care of itself. A top- 
 dressing of fine compost or some good com- 
 mercial fertilizer should be applied at least once 
 every other year early in the spring. Either is 
 preferable to manure of any form, which is un- 
 sightly. Fresh manure is especially to be avoid- 
 ed, if for no other reason than the crop of weed- 
 
&n <S)utlfne of tf)e (Kartren. 43 
 
 seeds it contains. Inequalities of surface should 
 be filled up with loam and freshly seeded, and 
 the roller be thoroughly applied over the entire 
 surface after raking. Always sow grass-seed 
 liberally. It is a mistake to leave either a close 
 or a heavy sward over winter. Cut too short, 
 the grasses suffer; left too long, they are un- 
 sightly and start slowly. The lawn should not 
 be shorn closely or frequently the first year; 
 after that, frequent mowings are advantageous 
 where the shorn grass is left to enrich the 
 sward. Often the sweep of the lawn is spoiled 
 by being too closely planted with trees or shrubs, 
 frequently with both ; or by being cut up with 
 flower-beds. While some shade is very desir- 
 able, too much shade is injurious to the growth 
 of grasses ; and close planting interferes with 
 the sense of generous breadth which the lawn 
 should impart. 
 
 Even with all possible pains and precautions 
 we are still without a perfect lawn. The grand 
 army of weeds remains to be combated per- 
 ennial pests innumerable ; annuals which sow 
 themselves a thousand- fold ; plantains voided by 
 granivorous birds ; purslane traveling on wings 
 of the wind ; dandelions, rooted deeply as in- 
 gratitude ; sorrel, lover of sandy soil ; mouse- 
 ear chickweed ; yarrow, daisies, mosses, lichen ; 
 
44 W* Barton's 
 
 and that English sparrow among the weeds, 
 crab-grass, whose maw is insatiable and whose 
 worm never dies all these fail not to appear at 
 their appointed time. Persistent warfare with 
 the gouge-knife is the only means of keeping 
 down the perennials. The spreading, self-sow- 
 ing annuals that creep along stealthily, under- 
 mining the grasses, are less amenable to treat- 
 ment, and frequently require to be dug up 
 in patches, resodding or resowing the spots 
 whence they were removed. All of these pests, 
 unpleasant as they are, we would willingly ex- 
 change for the crab-grass (Paspalum sangui- 
 nale), the bane of American lawns. This an- 
 nual appears most disagreeably during August, 
 at the time of its inflorescence, its brownish 
 stems rising from large tufts, which crowd out 
 the finer grasses, giving the sward the appearance 
 of having been burned, and utterly ruining the 
 appearance of the turf wherever it obtains a 
 foothold. It revels in drought and hard-pan, 
 and, like the horse-leech's daughters, cries out 
 continually, " Give, give ! " Practically inexter- 
 minable, the mower passes over its wiry stems, 
 which cling to the ground and perfect their seed- 
 sowing for another year. Good soil, abundant 
 watering, and shade alone tend to check it. The 
 only thing to be said in its favor, as distinguished 
 
0n (Dutlfne of tfje CKartren. 45 
 
 from other lawn pests, is its late appearance and 
 comparatively short duration. 
 
 Frequently ants and the white grub the 
 larval grub of the May-beetle (Lachnosterna 
 fusca) cause no little damage to the lawn. 
 The latter is not satisfied with the intolerable 
 annoyance he causes in the imago form by 
 bumping against everything he sees, but already 
 begins in the pupa stage to devour the roots of 
 grasses and valuable plants, blighting everything 
 his voracious mandibles seize upon for prey. 
 Patches of dead and withered grasses proclaim 
 his depredations, when the turf should be closely 
 perforated with a metal rod to the depth of half 
 a foot, pouring caustic lime into the openings, 
 and resowing the surface a few days afterward. 
 
 The ant is fond of building his cities on the 
 sward. These may be destroyed by perforating 
 the hills and pouring in a solution of crude car- 
 bolic acid, composed of one pound of acid to 
 two quarts of water. A gill of the liquid will 
 suffice for an ant-hill. " Tobacco insecticide 
 soap " is also efficacious. It is, moreover, excel- 
 lent, when sufficiently diluted, for destroying 
 ants where they have formed their hills in or 
 about plants. We thus see that a fine, velvety 
 sward, like very many other desirable things, 
 has its price ; and that, to carry out Loudon's 
 
46 
 
 apothegm, " The basis of all landscape-garden- 
 ing is good breadth of grassy lawn," calls for 
 forethought, pains, and unflagging perseverance. 
 
 After the lawn, the flower-border demands 
 our attention. And here, especially, I repeat 
 with emphasis the golden rule of the garden : 
 That is worth doing well what is worth doing 
 at all. Compare the sickly, starveling flowers, 
 struggling for bare existence in beds choked 
 with weeds, and baking in a crust of arid earth, 
 with the luxuriant, well-grown plants which 
 careful culture yields. In the one case, disap- 
 pointment ; in the other, constant increase of 
 beauty. " But I am no gardener, and Primrose 
 employs a professional," is the reason often as- 
 signed ; the important fact being lost sight of, 
 that back of the gardener and all other garden 
 operations lies the fundamental principle of 
 floriculture proper preparation of soil. The 
 parable of the sower has also its application to 
 the garden. 
 
 A rich, friable loam is adapted to the re- 
 quirements of the majority of border-flowers. 
 Where the natural soil is stiff, clayey, or sandy, 
 it is useless to expect satisfactory results, even 
 with the most liberal manuring. Clay soils can 
 only be rendered tractable by the addition of 
 leaf-mold, sandy loam, and decomposed ma- 
 
0n (Outline of tfje tertJen. 47 
 
 nure in sufficient quantity to render the soil free 
 and elastic. Sandy soils should be treated with 
 plenty of strong garden-loam, leaf-mold, and an 
 abundance of old manure. It may be observed, 
 in this connection, that a leaf-mold and compost- 
 heap should form a part of the reserve garden. 
 When leaf-mold is desired, it is often difficult 
 and expensive to procure. The rakings of old 
 leaves in autumn, and the leaves used for winter 
 protection, left in a heap to decompose, will usu- 
 ally suffice to keep up a sufficient supply. Prop- 
 er drainage secured, the flower-border should be 
 composed of surface soil to the depth of at least 
 two feet. This will insure the roots a supply of 
 moisture far below the surface. Treated thus 
 at the beginning, the foundation will be perma- 
 nent. ; and, beyond sometimes forking in an au- 
 tumnal top-dressing, we have done with the 
 question of soil. I am aware that it is often the 
 custom in England, where climate and skill pro- 
 duce the highest results, to retrench and replant 
 the flower-border every three or four years. 
 This involves much labor, and disturbs number- 
 less plants which do not like removal. It is far 
 easier and better to separately lift or divide such 
 plants as may have exhausted the soil, replant- 
 ing them in fresh earth. 
 
 No plan of gardening involving an expensive 
 
48 STf)e Barton's Storg. 
 
 annual effort can be satisfactory, even to those 
 of abundant means. It should be the effort, 
 therefore, to plant subjects that will be perma- 
 nent, and increase in beauty from year to year. 
 If a plant proves unsatisfactory from any cause, 
 cast it aside. If its color clashes with that of 
 its immediate neighbors, shift it to some other 
 position where it will not offend. It is almost 
 impossible to plant a large collection without 
 color discords. The various shades of red in 
 juxtaposition are generally the most trying, and, 
 often, effects can not be fully measured until 
 flowering-time. In such cases it is best to im- 
 mediately shift one or the other offender. If left 
 until fall, even when a detailed garden memoran- 
 dum is kept, the cause is apt to be mistaken or 
 forgotten, to intrude itself another season. 
 
 With comparatively few exceptions, trans- 
 planting may be effected even during the hottest 
 weather by soaking the soil, lifting the plant 
 with a ball, and replacing in soil which has been 
 thoroughly watered. In dry weather the soak- 
 ing must be thorough and repeated, so that the 
 subject may be lifted with a good-sized ball, and 
 little or no root-disturbance. This operation is 
 best performed in the evening. In hot, sun- 
 shiny weather the plant may be shaded for a 
 few days until re-established. 
 
0n (Outline of tije (jKartien. 49 
 
 Often plants crowd each other ; too many 
 species of similar habit occur side by side ; hur- 
 ried spring planting may place desirable subjects 
 amid incongruous surroundings, and the sym- 
 metry of the flower-border become disturbed. 
 Its outline, shading, and harmony of color are 
 naturally seen to the greatest advantage at the 
 flowering season, and it is then that transplant- 
 ing may be most intelligently performed. Cer- 
 tain subjects, like lilies, daffodils, etc., must, of 
 course, await their proper season for removal ; 
 and, where the subjects for shifting are numer- 
 ous, cool, wet weather should be selected. I 
 would not by any means appear to advocate 
 summer transplanting, to the exclusion of spring 
 and fall; but where the position of individual 
 plants is immediately offensive, or where they 
 are unduly crowding each other, summer trans- 
 planting is to be recommended. 
 
 It is always advisable to have a reserve 
 flower-patch to draw from, where subjects may 
 be obtained to replace those that may fail or 
 prove unsatisfactory, for the purpose of ex- 
 change, or where masses of particular kinds are 
 liable to be called for. Generally, a stock of 
 desirable plants may be had by annual sowings 
 and division. The seeds of some perennials 
 germinate very slowly, and are often trying to 
 
50 
 
 raise. Much is to be gained with the majority 
 by sowing as soon as the seeds are ripe, and 
 wintering the slow-germinating kinds in a cold 
 frame, pricking off when large enough, and 
 planting out subsequently in their proper places. 
 Not a few perennials spare us this trouble by 
 sowing themselves ; many bloom the first year 
 where sown early ; a large portion germinate 
 slowly. In all cases, fresh seed insures the best 
 results. Sow in light soil in shallow boxes, cov- 
 ering with a light layer of moss to retain moist- 
 ure, and wintering in the cold frame such spe- 
 cies as do not develop sufficiently to plant out in 
 autumn. Perennial seeds one should not de- 
 spair of until well on to the second year after 
 sowing. Many of them are in the habit of lying 
 dormant for a year, In England seed-pans are 
 usually kept dark, being moved into the light as 
 soon as the seeds are up. Lichens, which clog 
 the surface of the soil, do not grow in the dark. 
 Annuals germinate readily, and cause little 
 trouble. 
 
 Another mode of propagation is by cuttings. 
 These, taken from the plants just when growth 
 begins, or after blooming, should be inserted in 
 boxes or pots filled with a mixture of leaf-mold 
 and sand, keeping them in a shaded frame until 
 rooted ; then pot singly in three-inch pots, plant- 
 
&n utltne oj tfje ^Kartren* 51 
 
 ing them out finally the following spring where 
 desired. 
 
 What flowers shall we plant, and how shall 
 they be planted ? This will depend largely on 
 the space to be filled, and on other considera- 
 tions. Many, who are accustomed to be absent 
 during the summer, will plant spring bloomers 
 almost exclusively a mistake, for this means 
 bare borders during midsummer. Where one 
 has a rock-garden, some plants, that otherwise 
 might find a place in the borders, will be kept 
 apart in this more proper situation. Where there 
 is a hardy fernery, ferns will naturally be ex- 
 cluded. There will also always exist a diversity 
 of opinion regarding the merits of 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- 
 
52 2H)e Barton'* JStorg. 
 
 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 with the same plants often 
 repeated ; variety is the spice of the garden. 
 Though the taller-growing species, 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 plants of medium size ; 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 down in 
 summer ; or light-rooting flowers, like the lovely 
 Iceland poppy and some of the finer small an- 
 nuals, may be employed to take their place. 
 
 The great secret of successful gardening 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 
 something else to continue the blosssoming 
 
&n Outline of tfje ^artren. 53 
 
 period without leaving unsightly gaps of bare 
 ground. The necessity of placing plants intelli- 
 gently will thus be readily apparent the just 
 apportioning of spring, summer, and autumn 
 flowers with these several ends in view. Mod- 
 erate shade is of advantage 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 3T!)* ffiatlren's 
 
 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 (Outline of tfje CKar&en. 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. 
 
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. 
 
Spring 
 
 flowers. 
 
 Shall we be so forward to pluck the fruits x)f 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. 
 
 i 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 2T|)e OJartren's 
 
 April the French poet assigns a place exalted 
 above all the other months : " Avril, rhonneur 
 et des bois et des mots!" 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 
 fcettdus). 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 
 
J^lotoers. 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 Bahndur 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 2Ti)e (^arOen's JStorg. 
 
 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 Virginica) will soon be painted with vio- 
 lets and Trilliums ; 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 exf end 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 
 
2Tf)e Sprfnjj OTilto JFlotoer*. 63 
 
 assume several hues- -white, with shadings of 
 rose, and penciled with deeper-colored veins. 
 There is another form of spring beauty (C. 
 parwflora), 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 : 
 
 Vitae 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 
 
 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 Horsfieldt 
 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 
 
2Tf)e Sprfnjj SUi'lti 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. grandtflo- 
 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 bi color, 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 2Ff)e (JKartoen's 
 
 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. odor at a, 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 
 
STf)e Spring 3$?fr& 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 : 
 
 Trots choses blanches : la peau, les dents et les 
 mains. 
 
 Trots noires : les yeux, les sourcils et les paupieres. 
 Trots rouges : les levres, les joues et les ongles. 
 Trot's tongues : le corps, les cheveux et les mains. 
 Trots courtes : les dents, les oreilles et les pieds 
 
68 
 
 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 petites : 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 </, 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- 
 fore, look deeper into the eye of woman. A kiss 
 upon the eyelids and for this we do not require 
 
STfje Sjmnfl OTfltr 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 
 
 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. 
 
JFlotoers. 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 (Erythronium 
 Amertcanum), 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. grandtflorum, 
 and the large, white form, E. giganteum-, from 
 the Rocky Mountains, are far more beautiful. 
 A variety named E. Hendersonii, with lilac flow- 
 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 t)e C&artien's Storg. 
 
 Little later than the adder's-tongue comes 
 the lung- wort (Mertensia Virginicd), 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 (Dtcentra cucularid) 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 maculatum) is usually found 
 with the columbine, both being fond of places 
 where the Hepatica has preceded them. 
 
 Jack-in-the-pulpit (Arisama triphyllum) 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 
 
2Tf)e J&jmnjj OTflti iFlotoers. 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 artsa- 
 runi) are termed Capuccini, 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 (Amelanchier Canaden- 
 sts) has lighted its chandeliers and silvered the 
 6 
 
74 OT* gKartien's Storn. 
 
 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 almfolia), whose 
 midsummer fragrance hangs like incense over 
 the thickets where it grows. In August I should 
 be willing to exchange it for the Amelanchier, 
 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 
 
$"!)e Spring OTfltr JFlotoers. 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 2Tf)e CKar&en's 
 
 the marsh-marigold, than whose glossy foliage 
 nothing could be a lovelier, livelier green ! A 
 " g a y 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 
 
5Tt)e JSprfnfl ffl^flti 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 paucifolid), 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 
 
7 8 2Tf)e CSar&ett's 
 
 these, with the dwarf cornel (Cornus Canad en- 
 sis), itself a bold rambler and always fresh-look- 
 ing, are charming when well established in the 
 Alpine garden. 
 
 I should like to see a wild-woods garden 
 placed in almost entire shade, and free from 
 all rude draughts of air, composed exclusively 
 of some of our native trailers and flowers, and 
 a few of the miniature ferns. For the trailers, 
 runners, and carpet plants, for instance, twin- 
 flower, partridge-vine, goldthread, dwarf cornel, 
 fringed Polygala, false Solomon 's-seal, prince's- 
 pine, ground-pine, and winter-green ; with star- 
 flowers, Pyrolas, bluets, and star-grass ; and, for 
 the small ferns, the common polypody, the oak 
 and beech-ferns, the smaller Cystopteris, some 
 of the dwarf spleenworts, and the hart's-tongue. 
 
ittljen IBaficrbils begin ta peer. 
 
 In the flower-garden especial observance ought to be taken 
 of the choicest roots of the Asian Ranunculi ^ Aulmoneys, ten- 
 der Narcissi^ and divers others of the like Tendernesse, and 
 strangers to such Entertainments as our Northern Countries 
 afford. PHILOSOPHICAL TRANSACTIONS OF THE ROYAL SO- 
 CIETY, ARTICLE LXXXIX. 
 
 Devotion to Flora as a queen among us is as yet a living 
 truth, and among or around the heart of all true gardeners 
 there is woven a thread of twisted gold. F. W. BURBIDGE, 
 
IV. 
 WHEN DAFFODILS BEGIN TO PEER. 
 
 , HE white-throated and white-crowned J 
 sparrows have lingered longer about 
 the garden and the copse than usual 
 before retiring to distant coverts. Thanks to 
 unremitting warfare, my premises are compara- 
 tively clear of the English sparrow, so it is pos- 
 sible to hear the song-birds. Next to the in- 
 comparable music of the hermit-thrush, I think 
 the major and minor of these two sparrows, who 
 are almost always in each other's company, one 
 of the most pleasing of all our bird-voices. They 
 are more sociable than the hermit-thrush, who 
 sings his hymn only in the most secluded wood- 
 lands ; the latter has hurried past us this sea- 
 son, not making his customary pause on his re- 
 turn trip. The blackbirds have suddenly disap- 
 peared, after a brief dress-parade on the lawn. 
 Over the distant lowlands I hear the vibrating 
 
82 5H)e {jGar&en's J5tori>. 
 
 warble of the meadow-lark ; while high above 
 the pastures float the mellow strains of the 
 bobolink. The wood-thrushes are early and 
 welcome arrivals. I wish they might remedy 
 the disagreeable crack in their notes which they 
 seem to have caught from the grackle, the ter- 
 mination of the second bar frequently sound- 
 ing like a snapped bowstring. Otherwise the 
 notes would be very liquid, and, at a distance, 
 might almost pass for those of the hermit. The 
 Baltimore orioles have brought with them their 
 orange- scarlet plumage, and still another new 
 note which they will change from time to time. 
 Year before last it was more sustained, and quite 
 as plain as if one pronounced it, " Pretty, pretty 
 bird ! " 
 
 The same cat-bird I am sure it is the self- 
 same demon has taken up his perch in the 
 maple close to my sleeping-room, precisely as 
 he has done for two years past. Nothing could 
 be more delightful than his opening matin song, 
 begun in a dulcet undertone, did I not know 
 from experience his long-drawn crescendo and 
 the frenzy of the finale a perfect Hungarian 
 "Czardas"! Pelting him with stones, a pile of 
 which I keep within reach, stops him, as it does 
 my morning nap. But he returns persistently to 
 his chosen tree. I shall turn the garden-hose 
 
Daffolifl* beflfn to peer. 83 
 
 upon him some evening, and see if cold water 
 possesses the virtue that the prohibitionists would 
 have us believe. 
 
 Notwithstanding the caution I gave to spare 
 the shears, the gardener ruined the beautiful 
 Forsythias on the slope. If one needs an illus- 
 tration of the cruelty of spring-pruning certain 
 shrubs whose habit it is to flower on the old 
 wood, he has but to trim a Forsythia into a 
 rigid outline and compare it with one left un- 
 touched. All the airy grace of the golden sprays 
 is fled. Fortuneii and viridi$sima % the for- 
 mer especially, are the best of the Forsythias, 
 or golden-bells ; suspensa looks ragged, even 
 with close pruning. 
 
 If you commence early to plant magnolias, 
 you may possibly succeed in obtaining one to 
 solace your declining years. The money the 
 nursery- men must make layering, budding, and 
 grafting the acres of things they do, and then 
 levying two or three dollars apiece on the w r ares 
 they puff up in their trade-lists ! All they do is 
 to stick their things into the soil, and they take 
 care of themselves. They must make thou- 
 sands annually on magnolias alone ; for there 
 is no case on record of any one establishing a 
 magnolia until at least three or four attempts. 
 I find growers invariably recommend transplant- 
 
84 
 
 ing this tree, when in blossom, the last thing in 
 spring a cunning device to sign its death-war- 
 rant, so as to insure another sale the following 
 year. Magnolia Halleana, or stellata, is beau- 
 tiful on the lawns, with the Forsythia and the 
 pink Chinese double- flowering plum (Prunus 
 trilobd). Every little while one feels like touch- 
 ing his hat to Japan, it has supplied us with so 
 many valuable hardy shrubs and plants. Con- 
 sptcua comes next to Halleana, a much larger 
 plant and flower. M. Lennet is a dark, late- 
 flowering variety which should not be over- 
 looked. The scarce M. purpurea, while not 
 nearly so robust, has a more refined and dis- 
 tinct flower than Lennei, of a very rich lake- 
 color ; the petals are narrower and more point- 
 ed than most magnolias. 
 
 In well-sheltered positions M. macrophylla 
 will withstand even the severe climate of western 
 New York, by protecting it for the first few years 
 during winter a fact worth remembering with 
 regard to many deciduous and evergreen trees 
 which are usually considered not perfectly hardy. 
 This species would be worth growing for its 
 magnificent leaves ; when to these are added its 
 gigantic white tulip-shaped blooms, it is incom- 
 parably the most tropical-looking of all our trees. 
 To obtain its most striking effect it should be 
 
Daffotuls befltn to peer. 85 
 
 seen in a clump, the immense flowers being rela- 
 tively few. 
 
 Here it is well to direct attention to the pre- 
 vailing error of planting permanent subjects too 
 closely, or too near walks and roadways. It 
 should never be forgotten, when planting, that 
 the small tree must grow, and eventually require 
 space to develop. How often noble specimens, 
 just when they are attaining their full beauty, 
 must be removed, from this point having been 
 lost sight of in the first instance ! 
 
 Unfortunately, conspicua and Lennei are 
 both somewhat tender; and of the large-flow- 
 ered species, Soulangeana is oji this account 
 one of the most satisfactory for general cultiva- 
 tion. M. Thomsoniana, an American hybrid, 
 a cross between the native glauca and tri- 
 petala, seems to have become lost of late years. 
 Difficult to propagate, no doubt the nursery- 
 men can not realize a sufficient dividend upon 
 it, and so have discarded it. It is a valuable 
 half-evergreen species, retaining much of the 
 fragrance of its American parent. 
 
 Soon after the first magnolias the Japanese 
 quinces appear, the most brilliant of ornamental 
 shrubs. A single specimen of the scarlet varie- 
 ty will light up the largest lawn. There is a, 
 softer and equally beautiful shade in the varie- 
 
86 
 
 ties umbellicata, auranttaca, and others ; and 
 also numerous lovely flesh-colored kinds. 
 
 The double-flowering white Japanese peaches 
 have appeared with Spirceas Thunbergii and 
 prunifolia. It is not because its blossom is 
 whiter than the Spirccas, 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 odoratd) 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 
 
Uaffolnls fceflfn to jjeer. 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. Peray wine, which I 
 fancy it resembles, the favorite of Dumas pcre. 
 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 
 
88 2T|)e CKartren's 
 
 to select a corsage-bouquet from the infinite 
 number of nineteenth-century varieties, each 
 one more bewitching than the other ! I 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. 
 
Baffotrils begin to ^eer. 89 
 
 Daffodils running the entire gamut from yellow 
 to white. Daffodillies 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 Eucha- 
 ris 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! 
 7 
 
90 We ^KarOen's 
 
 Sulphur hoop-petticoat daffodil (Narcissus cor- 
 bularia citrind), 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 7 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, 
 
ZBaffotuls fteflfn to j)eer. 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 va- 
 rieties. But I find B. consptcuus, which has 
 just opened, is almost another bicolor poeticus, 
 also somewhat resembling one of the finest 
 Leedsi forms, aureo 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 &I)e (JKartJen's 
 
 nearly six hundred forms in a public garden,' 1 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-narcis- 
 
SBaffoTuls foeflin to j)eer. 93 
 
 sus 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 incomparabilis sorts multiply rapidly. Gen- 
 erally, orange Phcenix 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 Horsfieldi. Its 
 
94 
 
 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. 
 
 Maximiis (Hale's vase of beaten gold) I 
 have been unable to manage. Neither can I 
 grow the double poettcus 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- 
 
Baffotuls begin to peer. 95 
 
 Righ, nobilis, 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 proecox 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, 
 
96 
 
 " 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 Leedsii 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 
 
3!2I?f)en IBaffotrils begin 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 poeticus, 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 poeticus are many ; the 
 garden varieties, recurvus, patellaris, and or- 
 natus, being finer than those collected wild. All 
 of the polyanthus, or tazettas, are likewise de- 
 liciously 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 2Tt)e Barton'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 
 
Baffolifls fceflfn 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 incomparabiUs 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 
 
ioo 
 
 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 Prtmo 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 : 
 
liaffotrfis begin to jjeer. 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. 
 
Pleasures which nowhere else were to be found, 
 And all Elysium in a plot of ground. 
 
 DRYDEN. 
 
 Imitez ce grand art, et des plants delicats 
 Nuancez le passage a de nouveaux climats. 
 Observez leurs couleurs, leurs formes, leurs penchans, 
 Leurs amours, leurs hymens. 
 
 DELILLE, L'HOMME DES CHAMPSO 
 
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 
 
io6 
 
 lighter and varied instrumentation of the lesser 
 reptilia. 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 musca. 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 ! 
 
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. bifolia vary much, some being far 
 better than others ; this species also contains a 
 white variety. S. Italic a and S. amosna 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 I9th 
 the anniversary of the death of Lord Beacons- 
 field, who wore a bunch of primroses in his but- 
 
io8 
 
 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 t the large, purple clusters of 
 the Siberian cortusotdes, 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. Sikktmensts 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. Parryi, 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 
 
no 2T|)e (JKartren's .Storg. 
 
 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 
 
in 
 
 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- 
 
ii2 Qtfyz (jKartren's 
 
 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. 
 
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 
 
2Tf)e foocfc^artren. 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 
 
 state that he is a treasure among flovyers. 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. Saxifraga cordtfolia 
 and its varieties have thrust out their large 
 trusses of rosy blossoms above their glossy 
 
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 cneontm) 
 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 r 
 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. amoena, 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. divartcata, 
 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 
 (Letophyllum buxifolium) 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 
 
120 2Tf)e CKarlren'* 
 
 easier things to grow ; they demand a partially 
 shaded position, and peat freely sprinkled with 
 silver sand. 
 
 A host of Iceland poppies (Papaver nudi- 
 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. Alpmutri). 
 Meconopsis Cambrica, the Welsh vvildling, 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 Nepalensts, the finest of 
 
121 
 
 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, 
 9 
 
122 2Ti)e gKartien'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. 
 
 Genttana acaults 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. crimta), 
 mirroring the blue October skies, and excep- 
 tional for the four fringed lobes of its corolla. 
 G. Andrews^, 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 fulg ens). 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 We 
 
 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. /. cristata, 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 corifolia and correcefolia 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 Gibraltarica, otherwise similar to the 
 
125 
 
 common sempervirens, though not so hardy. 
 /. tenoriana, with purplish-white flowers, and 
 /. jucunda, with small pink blossoms, also de- 
 serve a place. Desirable among white flowers 
 is the hardy little Alpine catchfly (Si'lene 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 {Hypoxis 
 erect a) will grow almost anywhere. Among 
 trailing plants proper, there are none which 
 exhale such a flavor of the woods as the 
 twin-flower (Linncea 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 erfje ^artren's j&torj?. 
 
 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 (Tiarella cor- 
 dtfolid], 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-mold and loam. The goldthread 
 (Coptis trifolid] 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, Coptis, and Linnaa very many 
 dainty native wild flowers may be associated, 
 such as false Solomon 's-seal, Pyrola elliptic a 
 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 2Ti)e (^arlren's 
 
 most beautiful of plants for the shady portion 
 of the Alpine garden. The showy orchis (Or- 
 chis spectabilts), the earliest of the Orchidacece, 
 thrives under cultivation. The yellow lady's- 
 slippers (Cypripedium pubescens and parvtflo- 
 rutri) 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. spectabile) 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. fimbrmta, 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. ciliarts, the 
 yellow fringed orchis, is difficult to manage. I 
 have been surprised to be most successful with 
 the most delicate, H. blepharzglottis. This is, 
 I think, the loveliest of the Habenarms, 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. Spirant he s 
 cernua, or ladies- tresses, and S. gracilts, are 
 neither of them difficult to manage in partial 
 shade and sandy loam, and should be cultivated 
 
130 We CKartren's 
 
 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 fimbriata, 
 but more variable in its shades. The British 
 marsh orchis (O. latifolid) 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 
 
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 
 St'lenes, Saponaria ocymoz'des, Lotus cornicula- 
 tus, Genista saggitalis, the Dodecatheons, the 
 Alyssums, the Androsaces, the Alpine Dzan- 
 //ius, 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 
 
I 3 2 
 
 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 blowers. 
 
 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 Jound 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 Habenarias lift their purple spires ; it moves 
 
136 |)e gfcarlren's 
 
 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 
 
Summer jHotoera:. 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. Tne 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 
 TO 
 
138 ST!)e Barton's <Stora?. 
 
 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-Us 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 We <ar&en's J&torg. 
 
 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. Ponttca 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 super bum. 
 
 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. c&- 
 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 We (SJartren'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. vulgar is on 
 carulea 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. 
 Stuarti, 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 Jf lotoers. 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 W e ^Kartien'jsf Storg. 
 
 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 vartegata is a large-leaved plant, 
 attractive for its variegated foliage. H. Kwanzo 
 fi. pi. is a robust species, preferable to H. 
 fulva. H. grammea 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. 
 
2Tt)e Summer JFlotoers. 145 
 
 Another fine, old-fashioned, tall-growing per- 
 ennial occasionally seen in country gardens is 
 the fraxinella (Dictamnus fraxinelld}, 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 Sfje C&artren's 
 
 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 Dtely- 
 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 the 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. 
 
Summer JFlotoer*. 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 STt)e (Kartien's JStorg. 
 
 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 -Naccount 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 
 
 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 Summer JFlotoers. 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 
 
 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 
 
Summer JFlotoer*. 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 
 ii 
 
154 We ^Katfoen's <Storg. 
 
 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 spirasa or Hoteia 
 Japonic a 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. Humboldtit is equally robust, though its flow- 
 ers are not so pure a white. The species fiti- 
 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. 
 
2Tf)e .Summer JFlotoer*. 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! " 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 Dianthus are all of 
 them pretty, notwithstanding the interminable 
 appellation of one, Dianthus sinensis Heddewigi 
 diadematus flore pleno ! 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 ^artren's .Storg. 
 
 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 (Di- 
 anthus phtmarius), 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 
 
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. persiscifolid) 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. pulld), 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 magnificat), 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 We ^artren'* Storg. 
 
 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 /), 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 
 
Summer JFlotoers. 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- 
 bees 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 
 
 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- 
 
2Ff)e Summer JFiotoers. 161 
 
 ness, and the yellow camomile (Antkemts 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 Sieboldit 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 
 merrily dancing out the last sweet night of June. 
 
Jfarooritts. 
 
 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. 
 
 LPH ABETICALLY, 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 &f)e (SKartren's 
 
 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 
 Lzlzum, so varied in form, color, and periods of 
 blossoming, that, like the daffodil, a garden might 
 
(JRarlren 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, and 
 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 advisable 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 
 
 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 not of another. I have 
 seen magnificent beds of established Lilium au- 
 ratum and speciosum on the Eastern coast in 
 open sun, that it w r ould 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, 
 
too gKartien jfabontes. 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. gtgan- 
 teum. 
 
 II. Subgenus EULIRION (flowers funnel- 
 shaped). Types : L. longiflorum, L. candi- 
 dum, L. Washingtonianum. 
 
 III. Subgenus ARCHELIRION (flowers open). 
 Types: L. tigrinum, L. speciosum, L. aura- 
 turn. 
 
 IV. Subgenus ISOLIRION (flowers erect). 
 Types : L. croceum, L. concolor, L. Phtladel- 
 phtcum. 
 
 V. Subgenus MARTAGON (flowers turban- 
 shaped). Types : L. mart agon t L. super bum, 
 L. pomponium, L. poly phy Hum. 
 
 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 
 12 
 
170 &t)e (Kartren's 
 
 and superbum), L. C. rubrum, L. C. Hartwegi, 
 L. C. minus, L. C. accident ale, L. C. parviflo- 
 rum, L. C. parvum, Z. C. puberulum, L. C. 
 Walker z. No less than seven forms of L. Phi- 
 ladelphicum are mentioned : L. P. andinum, /,. 
 P. wanscharicum, L. P. of Brentwood, Z. />. 
 of Connecticut, Z. P. of Massachusetts, L. P. of 
 the Orange Mountains, L. P. varietas Hooker i. 
 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 
 
STtoo Barton JFaborfte*. 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 pasonias, which 
 would be utterly ruined were he not kept in 
 check. Last year he added the white Iceland 
 poppy and Spiraa filipendula 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 
 
 like, and strongly-scented flowers are distinct 
 among the turbans. 
 
 L. pulchellum, another small red species, 
 from Siberia, blossoms with tenuifolium. 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 (Z. 
 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 
 
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 
 well, 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 
 
 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- 
 ntcuni), 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, Z. 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. Hansoni. It is to the Japanese species what 
 
2Ttoo <arfcen JFaborftes. 175 
 
 the panther lily (L. pardelinum) is to the North 
 American kinds there are many finer to choose 
 from. But both are easy to grow, and the grand 
 whorls of Hansont 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- 
 boldtti, Z. rub esc ens y and L. Parryi are finer. 
 All the Californian species, except pardeltmim, 
 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 ex- 
 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. Washmgtonianum> 
 a distinct species in almost every particular. 
 
176 2H)e Barton's 
 
 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 Z. pardeli- 
 num Alpinum. 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 
 
too gKar&en JFaborftcs. 177 
 
 Turk's-cap (L. martagori), and its fine varieties, 
 album and dalmaticum ; 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 Thunbergianum 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. Z,. 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 We Barton's Storg. 
 
 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. 
 
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 f)e Barton's 
 
 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-\ti& leaves, growing in partial shade ; 
 these have not yet flowered. This species, in 
 Europe, attains a height of ten feet, and bears 
 
2Ttoo e&artien jfaborftes. 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 1 840 by 
 Dr. Asa Gray, on the Alleghanies, North Caro- 
 lina, and named in his honor L. 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. superbuni), an inhabitant of meadows 
 
1 82 ST!)e <attren'* JStorg. 
 
 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 
 
Eton e&artren 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. super bum 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 2Tt)e CSartren's 
 
 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 
 
^artren JFaborftes. 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 rubrtim andflavum. 
 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 
 
 13 
 
1 86 2Ffje 
 
 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 in 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 
 
CKar&en JFaborftes. 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 fill 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 
 7 his it is to be a Rcse. 
 
1 88 f)e Barton's 
 
 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 
 
CKartren 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 multtflora? 
 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 pseonia-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 
 
190 2T!)e (KarDerc's Storn. 
 
 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. 
 
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. 
 
 I 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 2Tf)$ (Kartien'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 " F arm-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 &|)e Barton'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. 
 
 44 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 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 et ne dtsons 
 rien," is a good one for summer, and preferable 
 to D'Artagnan's, " Faisons bien et latssons dire!' 
 Happy in July is the man on the sea-shore ! 
 How refreshing it is to get it all wet on one side 
 
198 2H)e (SJartien's 
 
 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. 
 
Wfstront. 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 irpoTroXis, /co/u/icoo-ir, and 
 
200 We 
 
 Krjpos. 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, ptQv alyXfav. Who- 
 ever is interested in bees will have read the 
 fourth Georgia, 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 
 
201 
 
 suddenly affrighted (what with the handling and 
 what with the noise), made up again with all 
 speed possible ; the man held and the bear 
 palled, 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 
 14 
 
202 f)e CKartren's 
 
 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 We OJarUerTs 
 
 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 arid 
 streams at this season. After Beethoven re- 
 
OTfstront. 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 tb 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 
 
 not improbable that the music produced by the 
 fanning of innumerable wings should be distin- 
 guished when the performers are invisible. 
 
 I see a humming-bird visiting the wild lilies 
 he can not resist his favorite color red. In a 
 moment he darts to the lime-tree, but only for a 
 moment, when he is rifling the blooms of the 
 Japanese honeysuckle, where he remains sus- 
 pended for a long period, often joined by the 
 female. The boom of his swiftly-vibrating wings 
 is audible where I sit ; it seems as if they cooled 
 the air ! In the garden he skims rapidly over 
 the borders, pausing a minute over the blue 
 larkspurs, invariably visiting the scarlet lychnis 
 and Chalcedonicum lilies ; never neglecting the 
 red monardas, and always returning to the 
 honeysuckles. In Prof /Grant Allen's "Pleased 
 with a Feather " I learn that the metallic luster 
 of his topaz, emerald, and ruby-tinted throat is 
 due to the fine lines of the feather barbules ; 
 and these it also is which give the sable sheen 
 to the crow, whom I admire treading his favor- 
 ite corn-field. 
 
Insect bisitors. 
 
 EIN Blumenglockchen 
 
 Vom Boden hervor 
 War fruh gesprosset 
 
 In lieblichem Flor ; 
 Da kam ein Bienchen 
 
 Und naschte fein : 
 Die miissen wohl beide 
 
 Fur einander sein. 
 
 G6THE, GLEICH UND GLEICH. 
 
IX. 
 MY INSECT VISITORS. 
 
 |S I listen to the humming of the bum- 
 ble-bees, I think the term " bombina- 
 tion," formerly applied to the droning 
 of the large Bombus, should be retained. It is 
 expressive, and carries the sound shed by him of 
 the black - velvet coat and winnowing wings. 
 Sir John Lubbock's experiments with regard to 
 the color-sense of bees are interesting as de- 
 tailed in Chapter X in the volume " Ants, Bees, 
 and Wasps." Repeated experiments made with 
 honey placed on papers of different colors not 
 only indicated a liking for blue on the part of 
 bees, but showed a very decided preference for 
 this over all other colors. Since the researches 
 of Lubbock, Darwin, Wallace, and Miiller, it is 
 now well known that special colors in flowers 
 are definitely designed to attract certain special 
 kinds of insects ; as, for instance, flowers that 
 
(fcarlren's 
 
 are intended for fertilization by various small 
 flies are generally white, those which are de- 
 signed to attract beetles are usually yellow, and 
 those which depend upon bees and butterflies 
 are almost always red, lilac, purple, or blue. 
 Blue flowers, Prof. Allen observes, are, as a rule, 
 specialized for fertilization by bees, and bees 
 therefore prefer this color, while conversely the 
 flowers have at the same time become blue be- 
 cause that was the color which the bees prefer. 
 As in most other cases, the adaptation must have 
 gone on part passu on both sides. As the bee- 
 flowers grew bluer, the bees must have grown 
 fonder and fonder of blue; and as they grew 
 fonder of blue, they must have more and more 
 constantly preferred the bluest flowers.* 
 
 A singular preference of the large bumble- 
 bee (Xylocarpa Virginicd) has come under my 
 notice in the case of the big bee-larkspur (Del- 
 phinium Wheelerii}. One of the most robust 
 and large-spiked varieties, I should not recom- 
 mend it for the flower-border, both its small 
 flower and peculiar color being less pleasing 
 than numerous other varieties. It is growing 
 side by side with handsomer and equally con- 
 spicuous kinds, and I should have discarded it 
 
 * Cornhill Magazine, " The Colors of Flowers." 
 
Insect ITfgftor*. 211 
 
 long since were it not for the fascination it has 
 always offered to the bumble-bees. The color 
 of the sepals is a peculiar sky-blue, rayed with 
 pale violet ; the two spur-petals that project 
 above the two yellow-bearded petals being dark 
 brown and showing almost black against the 
 contrasting color. Between these the bee or- 
 dinarily plunges his proboscis into the nectary ; 
 but the large black bumble-bee I refer to rarely 
 if ever does this, but drives his spear into the 
 spur of the flower from the outside, close to the 
 base of the spur where the honey is stored. 
 Perhaps this is done to save time and labor, or 
 it may be owing to his short proboscis. He 
 performs his work rapidly and assiduously, often 
 remaining until stupefied from his banquet. 
 This species has a habit of hovering over the 
 flowers or in mid -air with a loud bombination, 
 while chasing his mate, and seems more alert 
 and quickly alarmed than others. When D. 
 Wheelerit is in blossom little attention is paid 
 to any other larkspur or any other flower of 
 the garden, though numerous varieties of the 
 bee-larkspur are far more odoriferous. The 
 dark centers of the flowers are, of course, a 
 conspicuous guide to the nectary ; but similar 
 centers exist in many other varieties. 
 
 So marked is the preference shown by this 
 
212 &f)e ^avlren's JStorg. 
 
 species of bee for the variety specified, that on 
 placing a large bunch composed of four other 
 varieties of the bee-larkspur side by side with 
 Wheelerii and experimenting with nearly a 
 dozen different bees, in every case the insects 
 when intercepted by the foreign flowers merely 
 alighted on them for an instant, and, without in- 
 serting their proboscides, at once deserted them 
 for the variety they were frequenting. I have 
 been unable to determine whether it is the pe- 
 culiar shade or some special odor of the flower 
 which causes it to be sought out above the 
 others, or whether it is on account of its being 
 richer in honey. Besides this species I find 
 other principal visitors in Bombus terrestris and 
 the smaller bumble-bee, though none nearly as 
 numerous as the large black species. . ter- 
 restris also usually obtains his sweets from the 
 outside of tire nectary ; but the smaller bumble- 
 bee generally draws his nectar in the legitimate 
 way. An occasional honey-bee searches for 
 sweets through the aperture which has been 
 made for him by a stronger lancet than his own. 
 With regard to the perforation of the corolla 
 by bees, Darwin states that those plants, the 
 fertilization of which actually depends on insects 
 entering the flowers, will fail to produce seed 
 when their nectar is stolen from the outside ; 
 
Insect Visitors. 213 
 
 and even with those species which are capable 
 of fertilizing themselves without any aid there 
 can be no cross-fertilization, and this, as we 
 know, is a serious evil in most cases.* Aristotle 
 noticed that all kinds of bees and certain other 
 insects usually visit the flowers of the same spe- 
 cies as long as they can before going to another 
 species, and it is a well-established fact, readily 
 observable in any flower-garden, that bumble- 
 and hive-bees will visit plants of the same species 
 of opposite colors ; but I am puzzled to account 
 for the marked preference in the instance cited. 
 The plants referred to are situated in a long row, 
 and are considerably more numerous than any 
 other variety. Yet this fact would hardly ac- 
 count for the preference I have noticed, for sev- 
 eral seasons. 
 
 I think we do not accord the Germans suffi- 
 cient credit for what they have accomplished by 
 their painstaking and invaluable investigations in 
 the interest of plant knowledge. The ear-split- 
 ting terms they have to make use of and con- 
 tend with ! Just think of having to know that 
 the " Sauerstoffabscheidung " of green plants is 
 an " Ernahrungsvorgang," and that the latter is 
 closely connected with the " Lichtvermittelter 
 
 * Self- and Cross-Fertilization, chapter xi. 
 
214 
 
 Desoxydationsprocess " ! Is it any wonder it 
 requires a " scholar of Trinity College, Cam- 
 bridge," to translate a German scientist ? 
 
 The first stimulus to more exact observation 
 and distinction of plants was necessity to know 
 the countless medicinal species and to avoid con- 
 founding them with others. The old herb- 
 gatherers were the first botanists. But since 
 Aristotle, Theophrastus, and Dioscorides, who 
 were herbalists rather than botanists, how much 
 is the present system and knowledge of this sci- 
 ence indebted to -the Germans ! What flowers 
 have not been analyzed through their busy mag- 
 nifying - glass beginning with Brunfels and 
 Fuchs ; continued by Erhart, Hoffmann, Kom- 
 pler, Rumph, Hermann, Schreber, Sprengel, 
 Go'the, Humboldt ; and followed by Meisner, 
 Endlicher, -Meyen, Link, Schleiden, Von Mohl, 
 Seubert, Miiller, and others ! 
 
 To all who would look beneath the surface 
 and grasp the real purport and significance of 
 flowers, Hermann Miiller's volume, " The Fertili- 
 zation of Flowers," recently translated into Eng- 
 lish, will be found of signal interest. Christian 
 Sprengel, in 1787, was the pioneer to discover 
 these fundamental truths : 
 
 i. The nectar of most flowers is secreted 
 for the sake of insects, and is protected from 
 
insect trfsftors. 215 
 
 rain, that the insects may get it pure and un- 
 defiled. 
 
 2. The colors and odors of flowers are de- 
 signed to attract the attention of insects. 
 
 3. Without the aid of insects very many 
 flowers are incapable of fertilization, and there- 
 fore the secretion of honey in the flower, its pro- 
 tection, the odor of the flower, and the coloring 
 of the corolla, are Nature's contrivances to cause 
 its fertilization by insects. 
 
 While bringing forward the fact, however, 
 that the pollen was conveyed by insects to the 
 stigma, no greater advantage was assigned by 
 Sprengel than direct contact of the reproductive 
 organs in itself no advantage over natural fer- 
 tilization without suspecting that the real value 
 of insect-visits to the plant consisted in the pol- 
 len being thus carried to the stigmas of other 
 flowers, and by this means accomplishing cross- 
 fertilization. So, Sprengel's work, " The Se- 
 cret of Nature in the Form and Fertilization of 
 Flowers discovered," was allowed to lie fallow 
 until called up again by the advance of knowl- 
 edge and the researches of modern scientists, 
 more particularly by Darwin's great work, " The 
 Origin of Species," and his later book, " The Fer- 
 tilization of Orchids." Miiller's work, published 
 much later than those of Darwin, besides the 
 
2i6 
 
 author's own marvelous researches and observa- 
 tions, includes references to everything of im- 
 portance which had been written upon the sub- 
 ject prior to its publication. Of the mass of 
 information here presented, the enumeration of 
 the various flower species, with their throngs of 
 visitors, is one of the most noteworthy features. 
 
 It will prove interesting, perhaps, to recapitu- 
 late briefly the forms and character of insectiv- 
 orous life which serve to carry on the process 
 of cross-fertilization. " A review of the mode 
 of life of insects which visit flowers, and of 
 the families to which they belong," says Prof. 
 Miiller, " shows continuous gradations from 
 those which never visit flowers to those which 
 seek them as a secondary matter, and finally to 
 those which entirely depend upon them. This 
 shows clearly that insects which originally did 
 not avail themselves of flowers gradually became 
 more and more habituated to a floral diet, and 
 only became correspondingly modified in struct- 
 ure when they had learned to depend upon such 
 a diet exclusively." 
 
 In the scale of importance as fertilizers, the 
 order of Hymenoptera, to which belong the 
 bees, takes the highest rank, its members in the 
 perfect state being entirely dependent on flow- 
 ers. Bees, which confine themselves exclusively 
 
Insect ITfsftors. 217 
 
 to a floral diet, have led to more adaptive modi- 
 fications in these flowers than the Orthoptera 
 and Neuroptera, the Hemiptera, the Coleoptera, 
 and the Diptera and Thysanoptera combined. 
 To them we owe the most varied, most numer- 
 ous, and most specialized forms, the flowers 
 adapted to the Apidce probably surpassing all 
 others together in color-variety. 
 
 The Hemiptera, to which belong the bugs, 
 stand higher than the Orthoptera and Neurop- 
 tera, to which belong the cockroaches and 
 dragon-flies, several species being fitted by their 
 small size to creep into and suck honey from 
 very various flowers. The Coleoptera, to which 
 belong the beetles, are of much greater impor- 
 tance as fertilizers, for many species in widely 
 different families feed at times on flowers, and a 
 still greater number confine themselves to such 
 food exclusively. On the other hand, the vora- 
 cious beetle does much harm to numerous flow- 
 ers by nibbling their reproductive organs. 
 
 The Diptera, to which belong the flies and 
 gnats, stand on a still higher plane than the 
 Coleoptera in the matter of adaptation to a 
 floral diet, and are of far more importance for 
 fertilization, the majority of Diptera resorting to 
 flowers. In the habits of the Empidce of the 
 general order Diptera, Miiller clearly sees the 
 15 
 
218 f)e Barton's 
 
 transition from blood-sucking to honey-sucking. 
 Sometimes in a single species the females, which 
 require more nourishment, are blood-suckers, 
 while the males seek honey only. In Paltosto- 
 ma torrentium (Blepharocertdce), two different 
 kinds of females exist together, one blood-suck- 
 ing, the other honey-sucking ; while the males 
 are all alike, and all feed on honey. In like 
 manner, Miiller states that several flowers seem 
 to have acquired an offensive smell correlative 
 to the habits of certain anthophilous flies which 
 at times feed on putrid flesh and excrement as 
 well as flowers. Tiny species of midges, which 
 people dark corners by day and leave them in 
 the evening, are regular fertilizers of many flow- 
 ers which afford somber hiding-places for their 
 visitors. 
 
 In almost all bees highly specialized for fer- 
 tilization, the body is more or less thickly clothed 
 with long, feathery hairs, that in many flowers 
 become dusted, without any direct effort, with a 
 considerable quantity of pollen, which is then 
 cleared off by means of the tarsal brushes. 
 Easily as the hairs take up pollen, they return it 
 with equal ease to viscid or rough stigmas. 
 
 So greatly has the hirsute covering of the 
 hind-legs increased, and so perfect has become 
 the development of tarsal brushes in the exceed- 
 
Insect ITfsftors. 219 
 
 ingly numerous species of Halictus and Andre- 
 na, that the practice of feeding the young on 
 pollen collected by these hairs is exclusively or 
 mainly relied upon. In all species which pro- 
 vide for their own young, the males are of far 
 less service for fertilizing plants than the females, 
 as they are merely interested in their own main- 
 tenance, and neither collect pollen nor visit flow- 
 ers very diligently. Yet, in all species in which 
 a more or less thick coat of feathery hairs has 
 become developed upon the bodies of the fe- 
 males, it has become transmitted by inheritance 
 to the males, so that they also serve as pollen- 
 collectors. 
 
 Think of the number of bees alone that take 
 part in the process of fertilization ! bees with 
 abdominal collecting-brushes and long probos- 
 cides ; the specially long-tongued Bombus and 
 Anthophora ; other bees with long or moder- 
 ately long proboscides ; bees of the genus Pro- 
 sopis, themselves possessing a peculiar odor, and 
 preferring highly odorous flowers ; Andrenadce 
 and Apidce ; hive-bees and bumble-bees ; work- 
 ers and drones ; big bees and little bees ; and 
 almost every variety of Hymenoptera with a 
 sting in its tail. 
 
 The Lepidoptera, to which belong the but- 
 terflies and moths, are likewise highly important 
 
220 STDe 6Jarten's 
 
 agents in the evolution of flowers, for which they 
 are peculiarly fitted by their long, thin probos- 
 cides, enabling them to probe the most various 
 flowers, whether flat, long, or tubular. Even at 
 night, in fragrant gardens, in lonely meadows, in 
 the most sequestered woods, the process of in- 
 sect fertilization goes on continuously. Then it 
 is that the great nocturnal hawk-moths, their 
 two immensely long, hollow laminse coiled in a 
 spiral, emerge at twilight to haunt the lighter- 
 colored flowers, which exhale their odor most 
 powerfully at night. Verbenas and petunias, 
 always intensely fragrant at this time, are espe- 
 cially sought out by the crepuscular Lepidopte- 
 ra. Like the humming-bird and swallow, the 
 body of the great sphinges, tapering at the tail, 
 and the stiff, pointed, sharply-cut wings, are 
 framed with special reference to agility and sus- 
 tained flight agility to avoid their pursuers, and 
 great strength of wing to sustain constant sus- 
 pension in mid-air. I have seen the deliciously 
 scented Japanese honeysuckle (Lonicera Halle- 
 ana), on warm June and July evenings, swarm- 
 ing with the large Sphingce, including S. Caro- 
 lina, S. cinnerea, and the smaller S. druptf era- 
 rum, the former being present most numerously. 
 The humming of the rapidly vibrating wings, 
 the quick, furtive flight, the perpetual hovering 
 
n insect TTfsftora. 
 
 over the flower-chalices, the curious coiling and 
 uncoiling of the great suctorial tubes, are a feat- 
 ure in the strange processes of Nature that, once 
 seen, can scarcely be forgotten. 
 
 Miiller, from whom I have already drawn 
 largely on this fascinating subject, referring to 
 the dusk-loving Lepidoptera, explains that the 
 rapid movements always characteristic of this 
 species may be due " to the shortness of the 
 period suitable for their flight, or to the pursuit 
 of bats!' In cases which have come under my 
 own observation, I have noticed that the Sphmgcc 
 appear most numerously at dusk, haunting their 
 favorite flowers with little diminution for about 
 two hours, and apparently decreasing in num- 
 bers as the night advances. Bats, I have repeat- 
 edly noticed, seem most abundant during the 
 early hours of night. Tennyson's passage in 
 " Mariana " 
 
 After the flitting of the bats, 
 
 When thickest dark did trance the sky 
 
 would corroborate this, if the poet meant to 
 italicize the anterior preposition. 
 
 While angling for speckled trout at night in 
 summer, I have observed, where the bats were 
 very numerous, their sudden departure and sub- 
 sequent appearance, at perhaps quite long inter- 
 
222 2T1)e (fcartren's 
 
 vals. Attracted by the abundance of stream- 
 frequenting Lepidoptera, the Cheiroptera dis- 
 continued their aerial chase so soon as the quar- 
 ry withdrew from the neighborhood of the water, 
 returning with the reappearance of their prey. 
 Upon the retirement of the bats, the trout in like 
 manner ceased to rise freely to the artificial 
 white moth, the time of the " take " being ap- 
 parently regulated by the presence of the bats, 
 though governed really, of course, by the return 
 of the insects in their merry-go-round over the 
 surface of the stream. Finally, the flowering 
 period of my Japanese honeysuckle I have always 
 found a certain index to the commencement of 
 night-fishing. 
 
 I am not aware whether the great sphinx is 
 too big a mouthful for the bat ; he is certainly a 
 bonne bouche for the greater and the lesser owls. 
 Several summers ago I was awakened suddenly, 
 about midnight, by a strange noise, as of some 
 one raising the awning and tiptoeing on top of 
 the veranda. A bright moon was shining, and 
 not a breath of air was stirring. On the veran- 
 da's rim, looking down upon the honeysuckles 
 and their honey-seeking visitors, stood two small 
 screech-owls ; while, startled from his perch 
 upon the awning, a great horned owl flew away 
 without a sound. 
 
insect Vfsftor*. 223 
 
 " The swift, violent movements of the Lepi- 
 doptera" the author of " Die Befriichtung der 
 Blumen " continues, " is of very great impor- 
 tance to the plants they visit ; for the more flow- 
 ers that will be visited in a given time, the less 
 the time spent on each, and the shorter the 
 time spent in the flight from one to another. 
 This explains how many flowers have adapted 
 themselves specially to nocturnal insects, both 
 by their light colors visible in the dusk, and by 
 their time of opening, of secreting honey, or of 
 emitting their odor. The Sphingtda perform 
 their work as fertilizers with peculiar rapidity, 
 dropping their long proboscides into a flower while 
 hovering over it, and instantly hastening away 
 on their violent flight to another. Accordingly, 
 most nocturnal flowers have adapted themselves 
 specially to these Lepidoptera, hiding their honey 
 in such deep tubes or spurs that it is only acces- 
 sible to the Sphingida" 
 
 To the Lepidoptera is assigned the sec- 
 ond or third place as fertilizers before or 
 after the flies. No special mention of the 
 humming-birds as flower-fertilizers is made by 
 Miiller, who confines his observations strictly to 
 insects. 
 
 Very many flowers that are only accessible to 
 the butterfly, moth, and humming-bird, on ac- 
 
224 We Barton's 
 
 count of their long, contracted nectaries, have 
 become, as we have seen, gradually developed 
 or modified through the agency of their visitors ; 
 while the colors, odors, and periods of opening 
 of flowers generally are in relation to the tastes 
 and habits of the insects that frequent them. 
 Odor, no less than conspicuousness, is a power- 
 ful magnet to the insect tribes ; indeed, strong 
 scent is even a greater attraction than brilliant 
 colors. 
 
 Many flowers are both conspicuous and odor- 
 iferous. On this point Darwin observes : " Of 
 all colors, white is the prevailing one ; and of 
 white flowers a considerably larger proportion 
 smell sweetly than of any other color, namely, 
 14.6 per cent ; of red, only 8.2 per cent are odor- 
 iferous. The fact of a large proportion of white 
 flowers smelling sweetly may depend in part on 
 those which are fertilized by moths requiring the 
 double aid of conspicuousness in the dusk and 
 of odor. So great is the economy of Nature, 
 that most flowers which are fertilized by crepus- 
 cular or nocturnal insects emit their odor chiefly 
 or exclusively in the evening. Some flowers, 
 however, which are highly odoriferous depend 
 solely on this quality for their fertilization, such 
 as the night- flowering stock (Hesperts] and 
 some species of Daphne ; and these present the 
 
insect Ufsftor*. 
 
 225 
 
 rare case of flowers which are fertilized by in- 
 sects being obscurely colored." * 
 
 Thus we see how important a part the insect 
 world has taken in the evolution of the floral 
 world, and how much the beauty and variety of 
 the garden owe to the myriad murmuring wings 
 which ceaselessly ply their appointed task of de- 
 velopment and improvement. 
 
 * " Cross- and Self- Fertilization," p. 374. 
 
Scrubs anb ffilimbers. 
 
 AMONG the links between man's mind and Nature we may 
 place, as one of the most obvious, man's earliest attempt to 
 select and group from her scattered varieties of form that 
 which at once a poem and a picture forms, as it were, the 
 decorated border-land between man's home and Nature's 
 measureless domains, The Garden. BULWER, MOTIVE POWER 
 
X. 
 HARDY SHRUBS AND CLIMBERS. 
 
 the lilacs were in bloom there 
 has been no lack of other shrubs to 
 extend the blossoming season. The 
 slender-branched Deutzia (D. gra- 
 cilis), the rough-leaved (D. scabra), D. Pride of 
 Rochester, D. crenata fl. pi., and others of the 
 species, are all indispensable flowering shrubs, 
 appearing in the order named. Scarcely less 
 effective are many of the shrubby Spirceas, 
 which flower in the following order, from the 
 middle of May to the middle of August : 
 (i) Prunifolia fl. pi., Thunbergit ; (2) Nicon- 
 derti ; (3) chamcedrifolia ; (4) cratcegifolia, 
 lanceolata, lanceolata fl. pi., lanceolata robus- 
 ta ; (5) ulmifolia ; (6) opiilifolia aurea, cre- 
 nata ; (7) Fontenaysii, salicifolia, sorbifolia ; 
 (8) Billardi ; (9) aricefolia; (10) callosa, cal- 
 losa alba, callosa super ba, species Japonic a. S. 
 
230 
 
 opultfolia aurea is a valuable variety, with gold- 
 en-yellow foliage. It deserves a place by itself, 
 or plenty of room to develop in the shrubbery. 
 Soon after its blossoming period, the four-cleft 
 seed-pods of the cymes, which are thickly clus- 
 tered along its drooping branches, turn to a 
 rich terra-cotta shade. This shrub, when once 
 pruned into symmetrical shape, should receive 
 as little pruning thereafter as possible, or the 
 light, graceful effect of the sprays will be de- 
 stroyed. S. Japonica is of recent introduction, 
 a graceful, medium-sized species, covered in 
 July with attractive, rosy-red cymes. 
 
 The native white fringe (Chionanthus Vir- 
 ginicd), though classed as a tree, should be in- 
 cluded among flowering shrubs. It is distinct 
 and beautiful, with its glossy leaves and feathery 
 plumes of pure white, fragrant flowers. Its odor 
 reminds one somewhat of the native yellow- 
 wood (Cladrastis tinctorta or Virgilia luted), 
 one of the finest of ornamental trees, with wis- 
 taria-like racemes of fragrant white flowers, pro- 
 fusely produced during midsummer every other 
 year. This vies with the lime-tree in the attrac- 
 tions it presents to the bees. 
 
 Of the snow-balls there are a score of varie- 
 ties to choose from. Among these, the com- 
 mon Guelder rose ( Viburnum opulus sterilis} is 
 
Scrubs antt (ftlfntfcers. 231 
 
 among the best. The Chinese V. plicatum is 
 the finest of all, surpassing the common variety 
 in habit, foliage, and flowers, and it is not un- 
 justly considered one of the most valuable orna- 
 mental shrubs. There are likewise very many 
 varieties of the syringa, or mock-orange, to select 
 from ; some earlier and later, some with larger 
 and smaller flowers, some odorless and some 
 intensely perfumed. Doubtless the familiar gar- 
 land syringa (Pkiladelphicus coronarius), one 
 of the earliest to appear, is as satisfactory as any 
 of the strongly scented kinds. P. Gordonianus, 
 a late bloomer and vigorous grower, is more 
 delicately perfumed. The golden-leaved syringa 
 (P. folzi's aureis) should be in every choice col- 
 lection of shrubs ; its shape is easily maintained, 
 and its vivid golden foliage is valuable for en- 
 livening the shrubbery or contrasting with pur- 
 ple-leaved subjects. 
 
 Some like the odor of the elder- flower ; many 
 do not share the preference shown for it by 
 the flies. In any event, the variegated-leaved 
 variety (Sambucus variegata], its foliage mot- 
 tled with white and yellow, is one of the best 
 variegated -leaved shrubs. The elder's cymes, 
 produced so profusely, are always beautiful. 
 The golden-leaved variety has vivid yellow foli- 
 age, but, somehow, appears to have a sickly 
 
232 
 
 look, or to have assumed an autumnal hue be- 
 fore its time. The fern-leaved and cut-leaved 
 varieties are both fine ; and S. mgra, a medium- 
 sized European species, gives us handsome pur- 
 ple-black berries in the fall. The Halesia, or 
 silver-bell (H. tetraptera], a beautiful, large 
 shrub, with white, bell-shaped flowers in May, 
 should not be overlooked. Besides its peculiar 
 flower, it is distinguished by its large, four- 
 winged fruit. 
 
 During latter June the laurel-leaved privet 
 (Ltgustrum laurifolium) is laden with its spikes 
 of creamy-white flowers. This and the box- 
 leaved variety are probably the two finest ; the 
 latter retains its thick, dark-green leaves for a 
 long period, and both are of erect and handsome 
 habit. But the privet is liable to suffer from 
 extreme cold, and is slow to recover when af- 
 fected. The white alder, or sweet pepper-bush 
 (Clethra alni folia), should have a partially 
 shaded and sheltered position, as well as abun- 
 dance of moisture, to do it justice, its natural 
 habitat being swamps and low woods. A drive 
 through the woods on the New England coast 
 in August is rendered doubly delightful by its 
 delicious breath, rising from the shaded thickets 
 where it grows in the greatest luxuriance. On 
 account of its graceful and fragrant flower- 
 
antJ (ftlfmbers. 233 
 
 spikes, its neat habit, and its florescence when 
 most other shrubs have passed, it should be 
 seen much more frequently in the choice shrub- 
 bery. The button-bush (Cephalanthus occiden- 
 t alis), which often keeps the Clethra company, 
 is a desirable shrub, with attractive foliage, and 
 round heads of sweet-scented white flowers ap- 
 pearing at the same period. 
 
 Kalmta lattfolia, a member of the ornament- 
 al heath tribe, would be one of the most desira- 
 ble medium-sized shrubs if it could be grown as 
 it grows itself. But I find it useless to attempt 
 in western New York, where artificial culture is 
 entirely unsuited to it, under whatever condi- 
 tions of soil and position it may be tried. The 
 leaves of the Kalmia are said to be poisonous 
 to some animals, and the honey derived from it 
 has been known to prove fatal in several in- 
 stances. It is always well to try new plants 
 which one admires, or plants that have been 
 recommended ; but, when one does not aspire 
 to having a botanical collection, it is also well to 
 drop all subjects that one does not admire, or 
 that prove themselves ill adapted to the climate. 
 Still, a plant may be well worth cultivating in 
 one climate and worthless in another I might 
 almost say, successful in one's neighbor's gar- 
 den and a failure in your own, or vice versa. 
 16 
 
234 
 
 Only through experimenting, however, can one 
 determine what to attempt and what to avoid. 
 
 Of the DiervillaSy or Weigelas, 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 
 Wetgelas 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 
 
JSfjruto antr <lfmi)ers, 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 paniculata 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 
 
 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 ; Elceagnus 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- 
 
antr Climbers. 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 
 Jackmanni and Viticella are the most gener- 
 ally seen the common Jackmanni, 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 srte <arlren'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 Viticella 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 
 Jackmanni 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 
 
JSijrubs an"& 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 STfje dRartien'* <Storg. 
 
 forms, the recently introduced Japanese species, 
 Lomcera 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 
 
Scrubs an"& (ftlfmfcers. 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. Actinidia 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 We 
 
 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 (Periploca Grczca), a handsome, fast-grow- 
 ing European climber, with glossy foliage and 
 purple-brown axillary clusters of flowers. The 
 native wild bean (Apios tuber osd) 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. 
 
 Finally, among the native clematis, the com- 
 mon virgin 's-bower (C. Virgintand), the fra- 
 grant C. crispa, and flammula, as well as C. 
 integrifolia and Pitcheri, may each and all 
 be used to advantage in the adornment of the 
 garden. 
 
3n anb out of tlje <S>art>en. 
 
 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. 
 
XI. 
 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 ram 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. chalcedomcd) 
 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 We (SKartJert'a JStorg. 
 
 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 plants, 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 true 
 colors of many. 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, 
 
En anTr out of tf)e (Karfcen. 247 
 
 the foliage abundant, and the plant of elegant 
 habit. 
 
 Bupthalmum cordifotium, 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. glastifolia y 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 
 
 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. pule her, a very 
 late species, bears large purplish blossoms, with 
 yellow centers, a handsome and distinct flower, 
 the best of its tribe. Scabiosa Caucastca 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 chalcedomca 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 
 
Xn antr out of tfje <arDen. 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 didyma), 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 Statice, or 
 sea-lavender, the best of which is S. latifolia. 
 The Statice 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 Statice helps one out. 
 I see it now, its feathery sprays rising above 
 the sweet-smelling nosegay composed of car- 
 17 
 
250 erfje CKartren's 
 
 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 querulce and raucce ; Martial's, argutce and 
 inhumance. In the " Anthologia," on the other 
 
Xn arrti out of tlje (SJartJen. 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 (Asclepias 
 
252 2Tf)e C&artren's JStorg. 
 
 tuberosd] 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 glabrd). 
 
 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- 
 
anti out of ttje (fcartren. 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 
 
^artren's J&torg. 
 
 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 unconfmed 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 
 Hepaticas 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 
 
anti out of tfje ^arfcett, 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 
 
 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 Hepaticas and Violas are hidden by the 
 stronger growing plants of midsummer. There 
 is a crowd of tall evening primroses, white and 
 purple Eupatar turns, 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- 
 
antr out of tf)e <artien. 
 
 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 
 Heliopsis 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. 
 
JFernerg. 
 
 You will pardon some obscurities, for there are more 
 secrets in my trade than in most men's. And yet not vol- 
 untarily kpt, 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. 
 
 HATEVER 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 Ftltces, felci, fougeres, 
 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 3|)e (SJarlien's Sstorg. 
 
 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 2T|)e 
 
 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 
 
)> JFernerg. 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 (Osmunda 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 large 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 
 18 
 
266 
 
 flowering fern (O. Claytoniana), 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 sensibilis), common 
 to low w r oods 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. 
 
j) jFernerg. 267 
 
 The common brake or bracken (Pteris aqui- 
 Una}, 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 virginicum), 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 Aspidiecz, number many 
 of the noblest of hardy ferns. Of these, the de- 
 ciduous A. aculeatum and A. Goldianum, the 
 evergreen A. achrosticoides, A. cristatum, A. 
 filix-mas, A. marginale, 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 
 
 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 (Adiantum pedatum), 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 
 Cystopteris 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 
 
ifetnerg. 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 Filices 
 is, that the smaller they become the more beau- 
 tiful they seem. The little oak-fern (Phegop- 
 teris dryopteris), 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 OTe (Barton's 
 
 Woodsia Ilvensts 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 trichomanes), 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 ntgrum is an easily grown 
 small English fern which will grace any collec- 
 tion. Ceterach officinarum 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- 
 cessfully 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 
 
J^ernerg. 
 
 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. 
 
ittibsummer flowers cmb iftifcsummer 
 boices. 
 
 That time of year, you know, when the summer, beginning 
 to sadden, 
 
 Full-mooned and silver-misted glides from the heart of Sep- 
 tember, 
 
 Mourned by disconsolate crickets, and iterant grasshoppers 
 crying 
 
 All the still nights long, from the ripened abundance of 
 gardens 
 
 HO WELLS. 
 
XIII. 
 
 MIDSUMMER FLOWERS AND 
 MIDSUMMER VOICES. 
 
 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^y 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 Lome era Halleana and Lilium aura- 
 turn 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 Qtfyt (ar&en's Storw. 
 
 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. 
 
Jflotoers anfc Voices. 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 ivhe-u whe ; whee ii. 
 
 The common pe-wee or phoebe-bird pos- 
 sesses no such subtle charm. He never tires of 
 
278 3FDe Barton'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. 
 
JFlotoers anti Voices. 279 
 
 In the fields Grylliadce 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-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 &t)e (Sarlmt's <Stoq>. 
 
 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 (Ecanthus 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 arid 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 
 
JHotoers anti Vofces. 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. pantcu- 
 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. Drummondii, would not seem 
 improbable. The decussata class embraces the 
 taller-growing varieties, the sujfruticosa 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- 
 19 
 
282 2Tf)e Barton'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 alw r ays 
 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 
 
f&f&summer JFlotoers 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. 
 There are very many beautiful varieties of the 
 tall-growing perennial phlox, varying more or 
 less in strength of stalk, size of trusses, and 
 length of time the plant continues in vigor. 
 Among the desirable kinds which are due to the 
 skill of the hybridizer, it may be well to specify 
 some of the most vigorous and distinct, the 
 extended catalogue lists being somewhat con- 
 fusing to the amateur. For the phlox, like 
 numerous other florists' flowers, is not without 
 crying colors, its purples and rose-purples in 
 particular being generally objectionable. Of the 
 whites, which are indispensable to set off the 
 hues of their companions, queen of the whites 
 and Virge Marie are the best, the latter being 
 a taller grower, later to blossom, and better 
 withstanding hot sun. Of the light-colored 
 varieties Richard Wallace, white with violet 
 center, and Premier Ministre, white with rose 
 center, are among the strongest growers, and 
 produce the finest trusses. Of the lighter reds 
 perhaps the most distinct are Gambetta, Madame 
 Lechurval, Reve d'Or, L'Avenir, and Lothair, 
 the latter the most brilliant of the salmon-colored 
 
284 We Barton's 
 
 forms, and one of the most brilliant of flowers. 
 Parrai, recently sent out, is the finest of the rose- 
 colored type, while Oberon still remains the finest 
 deep red. 
 
 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 cusptdatum 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. 
 
Jttftrgummer JFIotoers antt Voices. 285 
 
 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 remarked, 
 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 grandiflora), 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 (Tanacetum vul- 
 gare, var. crispum} 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 
 
286 2Tt)e C&artoen's 
 
 varieties the gold- and silver-leaved are the 
 most desirable, always elegant in the rock-gar- 
 den or flower-border. A singular flower at this 
 season is that of one of the tobacco-plants (Nico- 
 tiana affinis), which opens its long, pale trumpet 
 in the evening, exhaling a rich odor like that of 
 the petunia. This scent it withholds during the 
 day. When cut, the flowers remain open in 
 the house, scentless during the day, and becom- 
 ing odorous at night. The plant itself, an an- 
 nual, can scarcely be considered ornamental, and 
 its leaves are a great favorite of the potato-bug. 
 But at dusk the numerous long-tubed white 
 flowers are very conspicuous and striking, and 
 it well merits a place in the rear garden for cut- 
 ting purposes. Nicotiana tabacum, the culti- 
 vated tobacco, and its varieties, are fine tropical- 
 looking plants, with huge leaves, that may be 
 employed to excellent advantage as foliage- 
 plants, in company with the eulalias, and the 
 taller growing grasses and rushes. But, being 
 annuals and tender, they require to be raised 
 from seed sown early in the spring. The even- 
 ing primrose is likewise a curious flower, lighting 
 its pale-yellow lamps in the evening and extin- 
 guishing them by day. The flowers open audi- 
 bly, the expanding of the corolla being charac- 
 terized by a peculiar sound as the flowers pop 
 
Jftflisummer JFlotoers antr Voices. 287 
 
 open. Besides the common evening primrose 
 (CEnothera bienm's), a. troublesome weed in 
 many States, there are numerous other species 
 to which garden space may well be accorded. 
 The larger flowered variety of biennis, called 
 grandzflora, .is to be preferred to the type, CE. 
 fruttcosa, and its varieties grow from one and a 
 half to three feet high, and are abundant bloom- 
 ers with smaller, bright-yellow flowers. CE. 
 speciosa, a fine species of Arkansas and Texas, 
 and a dwarfer form, bears numerous large white 
 blossoms passing to rose. CE. Missouriensis, a 
 Western species remarkable for the size of its 
 flowers and fruit, is a small-growing form well 
 adapted for rock-work, with vivid golden-yellow 
 blooms appearing from July to October. The 
 evening primrose is far better known in English 
 gardens than it is at home. Its color, fragrance, 
 and free-flowering habit render it a desirable 
 plant of late summer, when it is grown in rich 
 soil. Only some of the species are nocturnal, 
 though most of them are more odorous, and 
 open more fully in the evening. All the tall- 
 growing kinds seed freely, and are readily grown 
 from seed. 
 
 August and September are the months of the 
 sunflowers, or Helianthece, named from heltos, 
 the sun, and anthos, a flower, from the errone- 
 
288 2Tf)e 
 
 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 Asterotdecz, 
 belong also the Heltopsts, Rudbeckta, Echtna- 
 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- 
 
JFlotoers antr Voices. 289 
 
 ily form hybrids. Even the big annual deserves 
 a space somewhere in the rear garden, and 
 merits the encomium of Clare : 
 
 Sunflowers, planted for their gilded show, 
 That scale the lattice windows ere they blow. 
 
 In the mythology of the ancient Peruvians it 
 occupied an important place, and was employed 
 as a mystic decoration in ancient Mexican sculpt- 
 ure. Like the lotus of the East, it is equally a 
 sacred and an artistic emblem, figuring in the 
 symbolism of Mexico and Peru, where the Span- 
 iards found it rearing its aspiring stalk in the 
 fields, and serving in the temples as a sign and 
 a decoration, the sun -god's officiating hand- 
 maidens wearing upon their breasts representa- 
 tions of the sacred flower in beaten gold. Nu- 
 merous varieties of the great -disked sunflower 
 exist. It is the art of the gardener to know 
 how to place them. I turn to old Gerarde to 
 find him an enthusiast over the great flower of 
 gold. His cultural directions still hold good : 
 " The seed must be set or sowne in the begin- 
 ning of Aprill, if the weather be temperate, in 
 the most fertile ground that may be, and where 
 the sun hath most power the whole day." And 
 where is the florist or botanist who can paint the 
 marigold of Peru as vividly as it was etched in 
 
290 2T1je <artren's 
 
 the " Great Herball," or " The History of Plants," 
 nearly three centuries ago ? Almost all of Ge- 
 rarde's, as also most of Culpepper's icons of 
 plants, are models of their kind, bringing the 
 plant before one, not only truthfully, but pictur- 
 esquely. You see its form and color, savor its 
 fragrance, become acquainted with its virtues 
 you fairly see the plant grow and the flowers 
 expand. The page was ampler in the days of 
 the colon and the tall folio, the margin for em- 
 broidery wider, and author and reader were less 
 hurried. To-day, after the lapse of centuries, 
 the descriptions stand out with the vividness of 
 an old copper-plate proof. The reader who has 
 had the patience to follow me, and who does not 
 know him, will be interesfed in a typical descrip- 
 tion by Gerarde : " The Indian Sun or the golden 
 floure of Peru is a plant of such stature and tal- 
 nesse that in one Sommer being sowne of a 
 seede in Aprill, it hath risen up to the height of 
 fourteen foot in my garden, where one floure 
 was in weight three pound and two ounces, and 
 crosse overthwart the floure by measure sixteen 
 inches broad. The stalkes are upright and 
 straight, of the bignesse of a strong mans arme, 
 beset with large leaves even to the top, like unto 
 the great Clot Bur: at the top of the stalke 
 cometh forth for the most part one floure, yet 
 
jFlotoers antr Voices. 291 
 
 many times there spring out sucking buds, which 
 come to no perfection : this great floure is in 
 shape like to the Cammomil floure, beset round 
 about with a pale or border of goodly yellow 
 leaves in shape like the leaves of the floures of 
 white Lillies : the middle part whereof is made 
 as it were of unshorn velvet or some curious 
 cloth wrought with the needle ; which brave 
 worke if you do thorowly view and marke well, 
 it seemeth to be an innumerable sort of small 
 floures, resembling the nose or nozell of a can- 
 dlesticke, broken from the foot thereof: from 
 which small nozell sweateth forth excellent fine 
 and cleere Turpentine, in sight, substance, savour, 
 and taste. The whole plant in like manner be- 
 ing broken, smelleth of Turpentine : when the 
 plant groweth to maturitie, the floures fal away, 
 in place whereof appeareth the seed, blacke, and 
 large, much like the seed of Gourds, set as 
 though a cunning workeman had of purpose 
 placed them in very good order, much like the 
 honiecombes of Bees : the root is white, com- 
 pact of many strings, which perish at the first 
 approach of winter." What more could be said 
 of the plant he is depicting, unless by the bees 
 who draw nearer to the heart of the flower than 
 we ? And who could depict it half so well ! 
 Plant-knowledge is assuredly more accurate since 
 
292 CTfje <artjen's JStorg. 
 
 the Linnasan and natural systems, but plant-study 
 isn't half so picturesque as it was when the old 
 masters held the magnifying-glass. And, after 
 all, who will object to an error when the picture 
 is so artistically painted ? Is not a misnumbered 
 page a charm of an Elzevir? There are some 
 much smaller ornamental annuals than the large 
 Peruvian species, but so many superior forms of 
 perennials exist, that the former are scarcely 
 worth the trouble of growing. 
 
 Among the earliest of the perennial sun- 
 flowers is the showy ox-eye (Heliopsis ICEVIS), 
 frequent along streams and banks, where its nu- 
 merous yellow flowers form vast golden stream- 
 ers during August, conspicuous from a great 
 distance. At nearly the same time Helianthus 
 divartcatus peoples the thickets and meadows 
 a brilliant lemon-yellow flower. Later comes 
 H. decapetalus, the blossom not unlike the pre- 
 ceding, 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 (H. 
 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. mul- 
 tiflorus increases very fast, a small root set out 
 
J&f&summer JFlotoers an* Voices. 293 
 
 in early spring forming a large bush by August. 
 The flowers are always larger on young plants ; 
 after the second year they diminish in size, when 
 the plants should be divided. Rudbeckia hirta, 
 the orange-daisy of the fields, would be desirable 
 were it not so common a weed. R. specie sa or 
 Newmani is a preferable form, being a stronger 
 plant, and less straggling in habit. R. nitida, a 
 taller-growing plant, is one of the best of its 
 class, extremely showy in masses, though it lacks 
 the dark contrasting cone that characterizes the 
 other forms specified. 
 
 Much resembling some of the perennial sun- 
 flowers is Silphium 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 blossoms, and 
 grows seven to ten feet high. For stately and 
 brilliant effect it has no rival during latter Au- 
 gust, forming a golden cloud of flower, the more 
 striking from its tall stalks and deep -green 
 foliage. The most remarkable of the genus is 
 S. lacimatum, 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, having 
 large yellow flowers and immense leaves. Other 
 
294 We g&artrett's Storg. 
 
 species are aster icus, integrifolium, trifolia- 
 tum, terebinthinaceum, and asperrimiim, all 
 with yellow flowers, and albiflorum, with white 
 flowers. The proper place for most of the 
 Silphiums is the rear garden, or the edge of a 
 distant shrubbery, in masses. But S. perfolia- 
 tum is always worthy of a topmost seat in the 
 garden synagogue, when in bloom. The He- 
 leniums are tall-growing plants, with large yel- 
 low or orange flowers, similar to Rudbeckia. H. 
 autumnale, 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 
 and September. The flowers are showy, pro- 
 duced in umbels ; the color of rays and disk is 
 uniform bright orange. H. pumilum is the 
 smallest and perhaps the poorest of the genus, 
 none of which take the place of the Helianthus 
 or some of the Silphiums. 
 
 Helianthus rigidus, generally known as Har- 
 palium rigidum, is a very striking early species, 
 with large, brilliant, dark-yellow flowers. It is 
 the lowest-growing of the genus, not exceeding 
 four feet in height. Its habit is to run much at 
 the root, and therefore it soon becomes trouble- 
 some in the flower-border. But it should not be 
 neglected on this account, and a place should be 
 
f&f&summer JFlotoers anti Voices. 295 
 
 found for it where it will have room to make its 
 bright midsummer display. The Eckmacea, or 
 cone-flower, on account of the large heads of 
 purple produced by E. purpurea and E. angus- 
 tifolia, is worth growing. Coreopsis lanceolata 
 is the finest of its genus, although C. grandi- 
 flora, C. pubescens, and C. auriculata are not 
 unlike it. C. verticillata is a small and pretty 
 species, with delicate foliage and numerous small 
 yellow flowers. C. prcecox is scarcely worth 
 growing, notwithstanding it is described as " cette 
 charmante espece" in the suave French cata- 
 logues. Other fine Helianthece are : Helianthus 
 doronicoides, H. strumosus, H. orgyalis, H. 
 giganteus, H. tuber osus, and H. Maximilian* ; 
 the last three growing from nine to twelve feet 
 high. H. giganteus has purplish stems, rough, 
 hairy, lanceolate, and sessile leaves ; flowers two 
 and a half inches across, abundantly produced in 
 August. H. doronicoides is one of the finest of 
 the sunflowers, a large-flowered, large-leaved, 
 tall-growing species, with bright-yellow blos- 
 soms. H. Maximilian* requires a warm climate 
 to show flower, it being the latest of the genus 
 to blossom. 
 
 At this season spiders become very annoying 
 in the garden, weaving their webs among the 
 flowers and leaves, so as to give an untidy ap- 
 
296 
 
 Barton's 
 
 pearance to the shrubs, vines, and flower-bor- 
 ders. They may serve some subtle purpose be- 
 sides catching flies, these hordes of weavers, big 
 and little, white and brown. But their dust and 
 leaf and insect and pollen-strewn shuttles are 
 certainly unclean. The sparrow will not walk 
 into their parlor, and brushing away the webs 
 or drenching them with the hose is merely tem- 
 porary. There is but one way to treat the Sep- 
 tember spider to follow the example of the 
 mistress of the house, and kill him, cruel as it 
 may appear. 
 
lowers anb -fruits of Autumn. 
 
 LET the shadow advance upon the dial I can watch it 
 with equanimity while it is there to be watched. It is only 
 when the shadow is not there, when the clouds of winter 
 cover it, that the dial is terrible. 
 
 RICHARD JEFFERIES, THE LIF: OF THE FIELDS. 
 
XIV. 
 FLOWERS AND FRUITS OF AUTUMN. 
 
 LEAS ANT weather glides by so swiftly 
 in the garden, that September is well 
 advanced toward October before we 
 realize that the year has begun to wane, and the 
 flowers have but a brief period to stay. Yet a 
 glance at the border reveals no such apparent 
 consciousness on their part. June, with all her 
 exuberance of bloom, scarcely contributes a 
 grander floral display than do the stately flowers 
 of September the Helianthece, the decussata 
 phloxes, the perennial asters, the Japanese anem- 
 ones. The lavish odors and delicate hues of 
 the early season are lacking in the later flowers ; 
 a ripe brunette in yellow has come to take the 
 place of the fair young bride of Spring. A full 
 supply of moisture during the first part of the 
 mpnth has had a beneficial effect in prolonging 
 the freshness of vegetation. It is only the ever- 
 
300 We CRarfcen's 
 
 increasing chorus of crickets, the lengthening 
 shadows, and an admonitory rustling in the fast- 
 ripening leaves of the trees that point inexorably 
 to the hour of the year. 
 
 For the second time many of the larkspurs 
 are blossoming. In the rock-garden the little 
 star-grass, Viola pedata bicolor, and the white 
 and purple V. cornuta simulate another spring. 
 Campanula Carpatica is covered with bloom ; 
 Ttinica saxifraga has not ceased to blossom 
 since early summer, and Spiranthes cernua re- 
 mains the sweetest wild flower of September. 
 The Cannas and the great Japanese variegated 
 grasses are just attaining their full beauty. 
 When planting Eulalias, the smaller-growing 
 E. gracillina univitata should not be omitted, 
 an extremely distinct and beautiful species with 
 wiry, grass-like foliage. 
 
 But the garden will not take care of itself 
 even now ; to preserve its fresh appearance the 
 knife must be frequently employed to remove 
 the withered stalks, and the rake to collect the 
 fallen leaves. Left to themselves, the borders 
 would already look rusty in August, and remov- 
 ing withered leaves and stems forms no small 
 portion of the season's work. The stems of 
 many perennials should not be cut down entire- 
 ly ; they serve more or less as a protection. Jt 
 
anti Jhrufta of Autumn 301 
 
 is well to treat them like the lily-stems, and not 
 use the knife on many subjects, except gradually, 
 as the stalks die down. 
 
 The coloring fruits, and the colored berries of 
 many of the shrubs look so handsome at this 
 season they might almost take the place of flow- 
 ers. I question if the dahlia, in all its glory, can 
 compare with many of the American crab- 
 apples, or the double Helianthus hold more of 
 yellow gold than the quince-trees are coining. 
 The colored berries belong more truly to Octo- 
 ber than to September ; they supply us largely 
 with brilliant reds, a color the garden falls some- 
 what short of during the autumn, yellows being 
 the dominant hues. The tall-growing Helian- 
 thus orgyalis, the fathom-high sunflower, is a 
 late arrival a dark-disked, golden-yellow flower, 
 that looks down upon many of its tribe. One 
 never knows at what elevation it will cease as- 
 cending until its sprays of blossoms unfold in 
 late September. It is a lively, medium-sized 
 flower, with delicate, long and very narrow lan- 
 ceolate leaves, possessing what no others of 
 the Helianthecz with which I am familiar pos- 
 sess a pleasant perfume. Its stalks, how- 
 ever, are rather feeble they have so high to 
 reach and its effect is much enhanced by care- 
 ful staking. It is best placed in the shrubbery, 
 
302 
 
 where it can receive partial support from other 
 subjects. 
 
 Formerly the dahlia was much more fre- 
 quently seen than now. Of late it is again be- 
 coming a favorite, many good singles and semi- 
 doubles having been added to its numerous 
 forms. The dahlia is a handsome old-fashioned 
 flower, always effective in the shrubbery, and 
 extremely desirable for cutting when arranged 
 with its own foliage. Symbolically it stands for 
 elegance and dignity. It might equally well be 
 the type of steadfastness, the cut flowers being 
 so lasting. None of its classes, including edged, 
 tipped, laced, show, and fancy, are prettier than 
 the tall, pure white, red, and yellow pompones. 
 Many other forms are showier, with much larger 
 flowers. The dahlia must be included among 
 those flowers possessing a special scale of color, 
 notably its dark reds, merging from vermilion 
 into deep maroon, and folded petals almost, like 
 black velvet. 
 
 There are very many fine forms and varieties 
 of the Canna, small and large, and with light- 
 and dark-colored foliage. Principally planted 
 for its grand foliage effect, its brilliant strelitzia- 
 like flowers are highly ornamental as well. The 
 Canna may almost supply the place of both 
 Tritoma and gladiolus, combining, as it does, 
 
JFlotoers anti JFrufts of Autumn. 303 
 
 intense color of flower with great beauty of 
 foliage and habit. So many species and varie- 
 ties exist that a list of them would become 
 tedious and confusing; the wild forms number 
 nearly a hundred, with garden hybrids and semi- 
 nal varieties innumerable. 
 
 The big phloxes continue to be the most mag- 
 nificent flower of late September, the pure white 
 " Vierge Marie " and the coppery-red " Oberon " 
 showing superbly against a line of light-green and 
 purple-leaved Cannas. Above the copse the sink- 
 ing sun shines on the grand flower-heads of a long 
 row, and earlier and earlier every day lights up the 
 red trusses with intenser fire. The position is a 
 partially shaded one, the soil light sandy loam 
 well enriched, the plants five years old ; in this 
 position the grubs have scarcely troubled them. 
 The phlox exhales a delicate yet pronounced 
 odor, the sweetest-smelling flower of late au- 
 tumn after the auratums have passed, except 
 the fragrant double ten-weeks' stocks (Matthio- 
 la annud), the nutty odor of which it much re- 
 sembles. The floral opposite of the crocus, the 
 hardy colchicum or autumnal crocus, is now in 
 bloom, its brilliant purple appearing after the 
 leaves have died down, reversing the order of 
 the spring flower it resembles. Or is the col- 
 chicum really the first spring flower, appear- 
 
304 We CKartren'* 
 
 ing months before the appointed time of its 
 sisterhood ? 
 
 Hydrangea paniculata grandiflora should 
 be a conspicuous flower in all gardens during 
 the autumn months. Unfortunately, it does not 
 thrive in some soils, where it becomes a prey to 
 the red spider. This species may sometimes be 
 seen in perfection in one garden and worthless 
 in an adjoining one. Apart from climatic influ- 
 ences the failure of certain plants is often puz- 
 zling. Much, I think, depends on vigorous sub- 
 jects to start with. Many plants grown year 
 after year by the nurseries in the same soil seem 
 to become enfeebled, or at least to transmit a 
 feeble habit to their offspring. 
 
 Situation likewise has much to do with the 
 failure of a plant too much sun, too much shade, 
 or too much wind. Manure is frequently in- 
 jurious to many plants, and grubs and insects 
 are more numerous in some places than others. 
 Some soils dry out quickly; others lack some 
 essential element ; still others become weak and 
 deficient in vitality. Manuring in the latter case 
 may assist but does not remedy the trouble. 
 Working over the soil by deep trenching, and 
 adding virgin soil and other elements that are 
 wanting, is perhaps the most effective and trouble- 
 some way out of the difficulty. If cne could 
 
anti ifrufts of Autumn. 305 
 
 only change old soil into new and transform an 
 inland climate into a climate of the sea-coast at 
 will, how much easier gardening would be ! But 
 even then there would be too much or too little 
 lime, or something else would be wanting, I sup- 
 pose "man never is, but always to be blest." 
 
 Pope was a gardener, of course. That he 
 was passionately fond of gardening can not be 
 doubted in view of his statement, as given by 
 Walpole, that of all his works he was most proud 
 of his garden. He was a landscape-gardener 
 rather than a floriculturist, however, painting 
 with trees instead of flowers ; and when we look 
 over the great field of those artists whose canvas 
 was Nature herself, where shall we find one who 
 possessed the flowing, natural touch of Downing ? 
 
 A wild garden, what Bacon termed his 
 " heath or desert, framed as much as may be to 
 a natural wildness," is a delightful feature of a 
 place. Here amon'g autumnal flowers belong 
 many of the huge Helianthece, Silphiums, large 
 starworts, and everlastings. There being no 
 formality, it does not matter so much if the 
 plants become overcrowded. The occasional 
 presence of golden-rod will scarcely prove an in- 
 trusion, and the wild rose, bitter-sweet, fire- 
 weed, and clematis may be allowed to roam at 
 will. Such a tangle should, of course, be placed 
 
in the distance, or spring upon one unawares. 
 We should see more of this " natural wildness " 
 in places whose extent and natural features are 
 adapted to it, a source of far greater satisfaction 
 than the flaring General Grant geranium-beds 
 that often disturb the sense of repose. The 
 prim modern garden, too, almost always lacks a 
 pleasing feature of the ancient garden when 
 rightly carried out ; it has so few spots to lounge 
 in. There is a dearth of garden-seats, niches, 
 and benches, and vine-draped arbors and clois- 
 tered summer-houses. And where has the old 
 sun-dial disappeared, that used to count the time 
 so leisurely and shadow the passing hours ? 
 
 The equinoctial has come and passed, shed- 
 ding a mild persistent rain instead of the frigid 
 down-pour it often brings. It cleared off with a 
 blazing fire in a cool western sky and a mellow 
 orange after- glow. A rarer, more exhilarating 
 air has followed in its train, through which the 
 first yellow streamers of the elms and birches 
 gleam like molten gold. There is a richer color 
 on the great hydrangea's plumes, a more satiny 
 whiteness in the chaste blossoms of the larger 
 anemone. A few days more, and the first white 
 frost will settle upon the lowlands a white mist 
 rather than a white frost, that must soon set its 
 blighting touch upon the flowers. If we might 
 
anfO Jhrufts of 0utumn. 3 7 
 
 only store these golden autumn days to draw 
 from during the tedious months of winter when 
 the shadow is not on the dial ! The next best 
 thing is a gracious autumn lingering into late 
 November, when the fire of the year goes out so 
 slowly that it seems still to flicker amid the pat- 
 tering rime. 
 
 Autumn is the harvest of those flowerless 
 plants par excellence, the fungi, when old past- 
 ures and orchards and close - cropped sheep- 
 walks yield up their treasures. There can be 
 nothing pleasanter at this season than an expe- 
 dition into the country in quest of the pink 
 mushroom of the pastures. To inhale the air is 
 in itself an inspiration, while road- side and lane 
 are brilliant with the fall flora, and grasshoppers 
 and crickets are chanting merrily in the fields. 
 Then there is the excitement of pursuit and the 
 triumph of capture. Mushrooms are like trout 
 and game they possess thrice the flavor where 
 you earn them yourself or where they are sent 
 by a friend. Neither should be purchased in the 
 market ; the bloom has been brushed off, the 
 freshness has fled. The mushroom is more 
 easily procured from the pastures than by arti- 
 ficial open-air culture. Like the poet, the out-of- 
 door culturist is born, not made, and, I believe, 
 must be born an Englishman. The leathery, in- 
 
308 
 
 sipid buttons the French hatch out and send us 
 from their Cimmerian caves become worse and 
 worse every year, like the cuts off the tough Mon- 
 tana rangers they are used to garnish. The large, 
 high-flavored Cep of southern France, gathered 
 like our Agaricus campestris from the open 
 fields, is quite another thing, and is a prince of 
 esculents when prepared a la Bordelaise. This 
 agaric is very little known ; it has even been 
 overlooked by Gouffe and Francatelli. It may 
 be had in good condition in the can of commerce, 
 and, unlike the champignon^ is always tender 
 and digestible. 
 
 The common field mushroom itself is excel- 
 lent a la Bordelaise, and, for those who do not 
 know it, the recipe is worth quoting as a fragrant 
 flower of the table when executed by a compe- 
 tent hand. There is no more expert guide than 
 fat old Baron Brisse (requiescat in pace]. I 
 know of none so concise and explicit as the au- 
 thor of the " Petite Cuisine " : 
 
 " Champignons a la Bordelaise. Choose 
 large and freshly gathered mushrooms ; wash, 
 peel, and dry them ; soak them an hour and 
 a half in fine olive oil with salt and pepper ; 
 then place them on the grill* and turn them. 
 After cooking, dress them on a platter and sauce 
 them with hot oil, to which add finely chopped 
 
JFlotoers anti JFrufts of Autumn. 309 
 
 parsley and young onions and a modicum (filet) 
 of vinegar." Here, as is observed in the recipe 
 of Mori lies a I Italienne, " the trouble is trifling 
 and the succulence is extreme." 
 
 The crisp air of October piques the appetite, 
 and with the advent of the mushroom season 
 one may be excused from turning for a moment 
 from the flowers to the flesh-pots. There is a 
 freshness about the " Petite Cuisine " that is 
 truly delightful. Most of the very numerous 
 books devoted to French cookery are so elaborate 
 as to be practically useless. Pierre Blot's is an 
 exception, and did much to simplify many dishes 
 of merit. Baron Brisse has gone still further 
 and contributed a gastronomic harmony that de- 
 serves to be translated into every language. His 
 touch is so light ; his faults are so few. Brillat 
 Savarin was a cook of acknowledged ability. 
 His " Physiology of Taste," however, is a mono- 
 graph on the merits and etiquette of gastronomy 
 rather than a practical guide to the preparation 
 of the dishes themselves. Quaintness and sim- 
 plicity are one of the charms of the " Petite 
 Cuisine," wherein a menu is given for every day 
 in the year. It is almost Lamb dressed in white 
 cap and marmiton who presides at the range. 
 Spring comes to Baron Brisse not with the first 
 primroses, but with the first peas, and autumn 
 
310 STfje fartfen's 
 
 possesses no tinge of sadness so long as it ushers 
 in the hunting season and the spoils of the 
 covers. 
 
 " Green peas ! green peas ! " he exclaims. 
 " Of all street cries there is none that from base- 
 ment to mansard so unanimously rejoices the 
 hearts of all those that hear it. Green peas ! 
 green peas ! This is the true spring ; this is one 
 of its most adorable gifts ! " 
 
 He speaks of pigeons which join to a touch- 
 ing size an adorable savor. There are sixty-two 
 ways of cooking them, he adds. " Some day I 
 will give them all." The lark, always a favorite 
 in France when done to a turn, he pronounces 
 " detestable when not sufficiently cooked. If 
 cooked too much it is still worse." A certain 
 cream whipped with strawberries, of which he 
 gives the recipe, he declares has left him many 
 delightful souvenirs. Sorely distressed is he to 
 trace the origin of a favorite entree sweet- 
 breads a la gendarme. " This grasping (em- 
 poignant) noix de veau a la gendarme, is it the 
 product of a man of arms, cook at his leisure, or 
 of a master named Gendarme ? Will it ever be 
 known ? My researches in this respect have 
 been in vain." 
 
 But while the baron is happy in an entree, 
 he is pre-eminent in a piece de resistance. The 
 
atntr ifrufts of &utumn. 311 
 
 fertility of his resources is nowhere better illus- 
 trated than in his resurgam of a leg of mutton. 
 " A roast leg of mutton," he truly observes, 
 " when it is perfect as to quality, properly hung, 
 and properly cooked, is a gift from heaven ; but 
 one finds it thus so rarely. A large gigot once 
 cooked," he continues, " is supposed by house- 
 keepers to be useless thereafter unless served 
 cold or stewed. These ladies are mistaken ; it 
 is easy to present a leg of mutton on the table 
 twice in the same conditions of excellence, and 
 as intact in appearance the second time as the 
 first. 
 
 " Gigot de mouton roti rechaufft. The 
 gigot having been served once, and carved hori- 
 zontally from one side only, wrap it in a piece of 
 buttered paper and place on the spit. When 
 well heated, lay it on a platter upon a generous 
 purte of potatoes, the carved portion under- 
 neath ; moisten gigot and purte with a portion 
 of its juice which has been kept in reserve and 
 heated without boiling, and serve." So much 
 of our happiness here below depends upon the 
 cook and the gravy ! As in gardening, so in 
 cooking " Ce nest pas sans peine quon gagne 
 le del! " 
 
 To return to our mushrooms. Quantities of 
 edible species exist in the fields and woods 
 
312 f)e (Karlien's 
 
 throughout the summer and fall, if we but knew 
 them. They go to waste through our inability 
 to distinguish the false from the true. The 
 Gaul would have trained hogs and dogs to find 
 them ; the Italian would subsist on them in the 
 dried state during winter. The silver spoon is a 
 good though not always a safe test to distin- 
 guish them ; better are the sweet odor and flavor, 
 often resembling those of the chestnut, which 
 characterize many of the edible species. Still, 
 fungi are dangerous playthings for those not 
 thoroughly experienced in gills and pilei. It is 
 perhaps better that we are restricted to the field 
 mushroom, than which no native species is more 
 delicious, and in identifying which it is almost 
 impossible to be mistaken unless one be color- 
 blind, and can not distinguish pink from orange 
 or saffron. 
 
 Brightest of the autumn flowers to enliven 
 the lanes and road-sides are the purple asters, 
 with the ever-surging sea of golden-rods, the 
 rambling, canary-colored toad-flax (Linaria vul- 
 garis], and an occasional pale-yellow evening 
 primrose. Fields, meadows, and pastures are 
 hoary with everlastings, and everywhere wave 
 the white corymbs of the wild carrot. Here and 
 there a stony field is sentineled with mulleins, on 
 whose spires the goldfinches have congregated, 
 
JHotoers anli iFrufts of Autumn. 313 
 
 Along the road-side the elder-berry's cymes have 
 been transformed to clusters of shining black 
 berries, and ripe scarlet fruit shines through the 
 tarnished foliage of the thorns. 
 
 The asters are swarming with bumble-bees 
 and butterflies the small white and yellow but- 
 terflies and the larger orange-blacks, all busily 
 extracting a " last taste of sweets." I did not 
 know the latter was ever so late an arrival, or 
 that his chrysalis so resembles a Japanese 
 watch-charm. I found two belated chrysalides 
 on the raspberry-vines. The color of the en- 
 velope was dark bronze. Near one extremity 
 were two burnished silver knobs ; near the oth- 
 er, a necklace of raised, shining gold and enam- 
 eled beads. Underneath the semi-transparent 
 envelope the folds of the orange wings showed. 
 I found the thin husks rent in twain the follow- 
 ing morning in the glass in which they were 
 placed, the two perfected insects struggling to 
 escape from their narrow confinement. Brief will 
 be their holiday in the slant autumnal sunshine, 
 and " too late " the burden borne to them by the 
 rustling breeze. Last year there was a storm of 
 these brilliant insects in a neighboring grove, where 
 they settled so numerously as to weigh down the 
 lesser limbs. The year previous, a similar oc- 
 currence was noticed along the lake-shore. 
 21 
 
314 
 
 The pretty yellow flower you noticed a month 
 since along the ditches and low places is scarce- 
 ly recognizable now. A friend then, to all out- 
 ward appearances, it has turned to a foe, thrust- 
 ing its javelins at whatsoever crosses its path. 
 The bright-yellow petals have disappeared, the 
 green disk has changed to rusty brown ; and the 
 larger burr- marigold (Bidens chrysanthemoides) 
 stands revealed in its true hideousness an ugly, 
 swarthy ruffian, at once an armory of halberds, 
 arquebuses, arrows, and poniards. 
 
 Finest of the extremely numerous asters that 
 follow one during an autumnal ramble are the 
 several forms of A. Nova Anglice, the large 
 purple, starwort of the road-sides, varying from 
 lavender and rosy purple to deep purple. It is 
 the richest and one of the gayest of the common 
 late wild flowers, and, common as it is, is well 
 worth a suitable place in the garden. It seldom 
 looks so well under cultivation, for the reason 
 that it is seldom planted in sufficient quantity. 
 This is equally the case with most wildlings ; 
 they should be seen in masses, as they oc- 
 cur naturally, to disclose their true worth. 
 " Enough " is not " as good as a feast " when it 
 Comes to flowers, 
 
 The late flowering characteristic of the peren- 
 nial aster is one of its many charms. Gerarde, 
 
JFlotoers anti Jfrufts of Autumn. 315 
 
 in his "Great Herball," as long ago as 1633, re- 
 fers at length to the North American aster, two 
 species being described by him (p. 489), one of 
 which, not previously mentioned, he states "is 
 to be esteemed for that it floures in October 
 and November, whenas few other floures are 
 to be found." Certainly, many of our native 
 species exceed in beauty the species mentioned 
 in the fourth chapter of the " Georgics " (Aster 
 amellus, the Italian starwort). The classic ref- 
 erence is altogether too pretty not to trans- 
 scribe : 
 
 Est etiam flos in pratis, cui nomen Amello 
 Fecere agricolse, facilis quserentibus herba. 
 Namque uno ingentem tollit de cespite silvam, 
 Aureus ipse ; sed in foliis, quas plurima circum 
 Fundunter, violae sublucet purpura nigrae. 
 
 In Meades there is a flower Amello named, 
 By him that seeks it easy to be found, 
 
 For that it seems by many branches fram'd 
 Into a little Wood ; like gold the ground 
 
 Thereof appears, but leaves that it beset 
 
 Shine in the colours of the Violet. 
 
 So highly was the aster's purple and gold es- 
 teemed that the flowers were used as offerings 
 in religious rites, as Virgil specifies in his further 
 reference to the Amello. 
 
 Cheerful and colorful are the annual asters it 
 
316 (Efte @jartjen's 
 
 the strain be choice and the soil an unctuous 
 loam. Sown late in May, so the plants may 
 come into blossom during latter September and 
 early October, they are seen at their best. It 
 needs cool weather with just a suspicion of 
 white frost to bring out their colors. Then, 
 when many of the perennials are in the sere 
 and yellow leaf, they lend an almost spring-time 
 gayety to the garden. But here, as with the 
 Pyrethrums, objectionable shades must be ban- 
 ished, and the whites, maroons, soft roses, lilacs, 
 lavenders, and purples, placed so they may har- 
 monize and their various lights may shine. They 
 are the roses of autumn, the more beautiful be- 
 cause their reign is so fleeting. But the an- 
 nual aster is invariably sown too soon. 
 
 Strikingly beautiful are the calendulas during 
 October. Daring in their hues as the zinnea, 
 they never overstep the limits, and do not at- 
 tempt to mix up crimsons with yellows. The 
 orange verging to red, and the gradual shadings 
 from buff to yellow and salmon of the rays, are 
 a study and a joy in color. They last so long, 
 and withstand the frost so bravely, that the rear 
 garden and the center-table would seem lonely 
 without them, and we may freely forgive their 
 somewhat acrid odor. I found a large bunch 
 of them upon the table to-day, in a low, blue 
 
anb Jfaufts of Autumn, 317 
 
 cloisonne vase, the slanting afternoon sun stream- 
 ing full upon them an October sunset in the 
 room. There should be a shelf of vases to 
 choose from for arranging flowers tall, flat, 
 large, and small ; the floral picture, too, calls for 
 its appropriate frame. 
 
 Helianthus tuberosus, the Jerusalem arti- 
 choke, shows a fine mass of yellow far above 
 one's head, an erect, vigorous grower, with 
 large, dark- green leaves and lively flowers. In 
 its habit, and the size and brilliancy of its blos- 
 soms, its surpasses H.gzganteus. It comes late 
 into blossom, and defies the frost. This, with 
 many of the taller species, as has been stated 
 before, looks best in the distance naturalized in 
 large masses. They are admirably suited to 
 low situations, where they can be looked down 
 upon from an elevation. The tubers of H. 
 tuberostis would be largely used as an esculent, 
 if we had not the potato. They have a flavor 
 somewhat like salsify or celery-turnip, and it 
 seems highly probable that they were exten- 
 sively employed by the aborigines as an article 
 of food. 
 
 Very brilliant are the shining berries of many 
 of the ornamental shrubs at this season. The 
 large fruit of the Cornelian cherry (Cornus mas- 
 cula], and the corals of the bush cranberry 
 
318 
 
 ( Viburnum opulus), still hold their color. Gay 
 scarlet streamers wave from the common bar- 
 berry bushes. The large flat cymes of the way- 
 faring-tree ( V. lantanoides) are covered with red 
 drupes, changing to dark-purple, while the foamy 
 blossoms of the rough-leaved Viburnum ( V. 
 rugosum) have been succeeded by the showy 
 berries of fall. Indeed, these shrubs have been 
 brilliant with fruit ever since latter August. 
 
 I had not meant to overlook the baneberry, 
 attractive in May with its spiraea-like flowers, 
 and bright throughout August and September 
 through its ovoid, oblong, red berries. Two 
 varieties are worth cultivating Actcsa alba, 
 having white berries with red stalks, and A. 
 spicata rubra, bearing glossy vermilion fruit. 
 But the baneberry requires partial or nearly 
 entire shade, and plenty of moisture, or the 
 leaves soon tarnish, and give the plant a withered 
 appearance. It looks well suitably- placed in the 
 rock-garden, or rising from the shrubbery bor- 
 der, or the wild garden. Nearly allied to the 
 baneberry is the black snake-root (Cimicifuga 
 racemosa}. You have noticed it when passing 
 along woods on the railway, lighting their green 
 skirts with its tall white rockets of bloom. An 
 odd, bold, and distinct flower, it is not unworthy 
 of culture despite the unpleasant odor, whence 
 
JFlotoers atr& Jfrufts of Autumn. 319 
 
 the species derives its name, from cimex, a. bug, 
 and fugo, to drive away. 
 
 The vermilion and light-red berries of the 
 European and the American mountain -ash 
 (Pyrus aucuparia and P. Americana) are con- 
 spicuous at present. One of the finest orna- 
 mental trees, the mountain-ash, like the linden, 
 is unfortunately subject to attacks from borers 
 and ants, which eventually split the rind and 
 destroy the vitality of the tree. The robins are 
 numerous among its branches, feasting upon the 
 berries. Equally busy are they among the 
 pearsj apples, and grapes meat-eaters in the 
 summer and vegetarians in the fall. The robin 
 has a distinct autumnal note, which I like to 
 hear a noisy call he utters when about to 
 change his perch, or preliminary challenge to a 
 raid upon the orchards, as if he knew he had a 
 right to the spoils, and wanted his companions 
 to share the feast. From the thickly foliaged 
 thorn, hung with its scarlet fruit, comes a soft, 
 tender, caressing song, one of the sweetest of 
 the year a warble so low, so sweet, so plaintive, 
 I tiptoe closely to the songster to hear it. How 
 charming the cat-bird can be when he tries, and 
 how different his dulcet autumnal vespers from 
 the frenzied " Czardas " he is so fond of playing 
 in the morning of the year ! 
 
320 
 
 I know many a man like him grouty, fault- 
 finding, storming in the morning; mellow, ex- 
 pansive, delightful in the evening. 
 
 Now crickets crink by day, and the harping 
 of grasshoppers ascends from the fields. Count- 
 less unseen choristers are chanting an ode to 
 fall the air quivers with pulsating sound. Even 
 throughout the October night the viol of the 
 green leaf-cricket is never stilled. Musically the 
 squirrel's bark rings out from the covert, and in- 
 termittingly rises the warbling of assembling 
 blackbirds. Over the flowers swarm crowds of 
 sulphur butterflies, and bee and wasp are ban- 
 queting upon the fallen fruit. Perceptibly the 
 shadows lengthen, as the haze of autumn draws 
 its veil over the latter year. Soon, ah ! why al- 
 way so soon ? the patter of dropping nuts and 
 the rustle of falling leaves. 
 
 Every little while I catch a fragment of a 
 familiar strain voiced by the song-birds on their 
 southward flight as they pause for a day on 
 their migration. From what distant coverts and 
 unexplored forests has not that white-throated 
 sparrow returned, whose silvery tinkle floats 
 from the copse so musically, yet so plaintively, 
 seeming like an echo of departed spring ! 
 
 The yellow-birds, who are busy scattering 
 the milkweed's floss, have a little lisping cry that 
 
antr Jfrufts of Autumn. 321 
 
 always seems tinged with sadness at this season. 
 Perhaps the season has more to do with the 
 apparent sadness than the voice of the bird it- 
 self. If the frogs were vocal in October, no 
 doubt the trombone of the great green batra- 
 chian would seem a Miserere. Were the green 
 leaf -cricket a spring chorister, his measured 
 " Treat-treat-treat " would doubtless appear a 
 buoyant " Friihlingslied." So much depends on 
 association of familiar sounds with the season, 
 or the circumstances under which they are 
 heard. I can scarcely imagine how the call of 
 the meadow-lark would sound from the depths 
 of a thicket, or how much of its metallic quality 
 the veery's song would lose if uttered in the 
 open field. 
 
 But the blackbird's notes during autumn are 
 assuredly sad, as they linger over the withering 
 stubbles, or drop down from the home-bound 
 flocks at evening. Every morning, now, they 
 pass overhead in large bands from the marshes, 
 on the way to their daily forage-grounds ; and 
 every evening, now flying low and now flying 
 high, they return over the self-same route to the 
 haven of the reeds. The majority are black- 
 birds, though the starling and crow-blackbird 
 feed with them, and form part of the morning 
 and evening flights. The flocks grow larger as 
 
3 22 
 
 the season advances, and, when flying low in 
 the calm of evening, cause a sishing sound, like 
 the ebb of the surf upon the shingle. What a 
 clamor there arises from the ebon flocks in the 
 corn fields for weeks before their departure; 
 what garrulous sessions are held by the disput- 
 ing crowds ere the date is fixed upon for their 
 southward flight ! We may well wonder how 
 the young birds are made to understand the sig- 
 nal of departure, and marvel 
 
 Who calls the council, states the certain day ? 
 Who forms the phalanx, and who points the way ? 
 
 
lje Cast ittonliVl)o0b Spire. 
 
 For never-resting Time leads Summer on 
 
 To hideous Winter, and confounds him there ; 
 
 Sap check'd with frost, and lusty leaves quite gone. 
 Beauty o'ersnow'd, and bareness everywhere. 
 SONNET V. 
 
XV. 
 THE LAST MONK'S-HOOD SPIRE. 
 
 HERE is little left to tell of the flower- 
 garden after mid-October ; its bright- 
 ness fades rapidly with the shortening 
 days. Glorious have been the great Japanese 
 anemones ; they are the life of the borders in 
 October, being to autumn what the daffodils are 
 to spring. Dahlias, salvias, and ageratums have 
 been struck by frost ; the anemones still linger, 
 white as the snow-flakes they herald. The 
 chrysanthemums are just appearing, among the 
 latest of autumn flowers, and we once more 
 touch our hat to China and Japan. For the 
 fading flowers we have the brilliant fruits and 
 berries, and the changing hues of the foliage. 
 On yonder upland grove I see nearly every shade 
 of red and yellow which the entire summer has 
 contributed to the flower-borders. The maple 
 would be held a sacred tree by the Orientals for 
 
326 
 
 its skill as a fall landscape-painter. Almost 
 equally beautiful is the dogwood, a tree that 
 should -be in every garden, no less for its Octo- 
 ber splendor than for its magnificent June in- 
 florescence. 
 
 It is an opportune moment to consider trees 
 and shrubs with regard to their autumnal hues ; 
 later they may be studied with reference to the 
 beauty of their spray and leafless lines. The 
 feature of autumnal coloring should receive at- 
 tention when planting, just as much as the flow- 
 ering habit of ornamental trees and shrubs. 
 
 The very high coloring of foliage in nature 
 we may not always hope to equal, for the reason 
 that intensity of hue is frequently caused by 
 overcrowding, poor soil, or special exposure, the 
 latter being undoubtedly the most important 
 factor. Trees growing on arid and stony ground 
 are usually the most highly colored, though fre- 
 quently a swamp, where the scarlet maple and 
 sweet-gum flourish, glows like a lambent flame. 
 Full maturity of foliage before it is touched by 
 black frosts, and position with reference to the 
 sun, also count for much in the bursts of color 
 that hang upon the autumnal upland. 
 
 Many kinds of trees and shrubs assume the 
 same hue or hues every autumn, individuals 
 offering no deviation. Other kinds, like the 
 
&f)e Hast ,piontt's=t)ootr J&jrire. 327 
 
 scarlet and sugar maples, are widely different in 
 the colors individual trees assume. It may be 
 noticed that a tree with individual markings 
 always repeats these markings the same red 
 branch or branches, or the same scarlet leaves 
 tipped with green, duplicating themselves on the 
 same tree year after year. It would be well if 
 nurserymen would propagate, through grafting, 
 striking individual trees for their autumnal color- 
 ing, notably the scarlet and sugar maple. 
 
 Without doubt the maple is king of arboreal 
 colorists, no other tree presenting so great a 
 variety of glowing hues. The scarlet maple 
 contributes more self-colors than the sugar. Its 
 leaf, however, falls quicker, and does not pos- 
 sess the delicate shadings from green to reds 
 and yellows that many of the sugar-maples do. 
 But in its first flush of scarlet, orange, or cardi- 
 nal it has no rival for distant effects. The 
 larger Japanese maple (Acer polymorphum) 
 should always have a place, for the beauty of its 
 autumnal foliage. Indeed, the smaller Japanese 
 maples, as well, are of marked beauty during 
 autumn. Among trees that assume a bright 
 yellow, the Norway maple, elm, birch, hickory, 
 maiden-hair, ash, yellow-wood, and larch are 
 conspicuous. The sassafras has its individual 
 hues ochres, passing from yellow to deep or- 
 
328 grije (SJarfcen's 
 
 ange and umber. The shad-blow colors a rich 
 garnet, not unlike some of the tones of the 
 pepperidge-tree ; while the dogwood's is unques- 
 tionably the most vivid, deep lake-red of all 
 trees. The American mountain -ash passes 
 from yellow to rich clarets and purples ; the 
 European mountain-ash seldom develops much 
 autumnal coloring, confining its display to its 
 brilliant fruit. The sweet-gum and sour-gum, 
 fine trees at all seasons, are exceptionally at- 
 tractive during autumn in the deep purplish-red 
 and orange shades of the leaves. 
 
 For simple variety of colors, the various oaks 
 are almost equal to the maples. The oak has 
 its own scale of russets and maroons ; and no 
 one can pass it without admiration, when the 
 November sunlight strikes through the glisten- 
 ing foliage of the native scarlet oak, the last 
 bright-red of fall. 
 
 If we take yellow alone for the color-stand- 
 ard, the beech is without an equal. A beech, 
 indeed, is always beautiful. In late November 
 its colors still remain attractive, varying from 
 rich Roman ochre to deep-brown bronze, and 
 from pale rose-buff to lustrous, satiny gray. 
 Assuredly Downing is mistaken in considering 
 its beauty diminished during winter, owing to 
 the retention of much of its foliage. Its har- 
 
2Tl)e Hast J&onfc'M)ooli Spire. 329 
 
 mony is of marked loveliness in winter, a faded 
 elegance clinging to it like a chastened autumnal 
 memory. I can not understand how Wilson 
 Flagg should refer to it as remarkably dull in 
 its autumnal tints. To the Selborne rector 
 the beech was " the most beautiful of all trees," 
 and Jesse rightly " loved it at all seasons of the 
 year." 
 
 Among smaller trees, the aspen is prominent 
 for its golden-yellow hue, its effect being height- 
 ened by the play of the sunlight upon its quiver- 
 ing leaves. The common sumac is invariably 
 one of the most brilliant colorists, especially 
 when growing on stony places. The cut-leaved 
 variety (Rkus glabra laciniata), a striking 
 shrub, with deeply-cut, fern-like foliage, is 
 equally beautiful in its October dress. Several 
 of the shrubby spiraeas are worth planting sole- 
 ly for their autumnal foliage, particularly the 
 plum-leaved variety (S. prunifolid). But, of 
 all small ornamental shrubs, the finest is Ber- 
 beris Fortuneii, the small leaves of which vary 
 through different shades of green, yellow, and 
 salmon to vivid Venetian red. Of fruit-trees 
 that contribute to the autumnal pageant, the 
 most striking are the peach, pear, apple, and 
 cherry. In the two former, greens are often 
 most exquisitely graduated, passing into yellow, 
 23 
 
33 We Barton's 
 
 orange, and red ; the apple preserves its gre'en 
 for a long period, and then, in numerous varie- 
 ties, shades it with yellow before the leaves be- 
 come seared by hard frosts. 
 
 It is self-evident that there can be no satis- 
 factory garden without a sufficiency of trees and 
 shrubs. The former are necessary, if only for 
 shade. But trees and shrubs with colored and 
 variegated foliage, and those which assume vivid 
 autumnal tints, are rarely seen as frequently 
 under cultivation as they should be ; and many 
 a garden, for this reason, lacks a great charm of 
 outward nature. 
 
 For several reasons, fall is the best season 
 for transplanting. One can judge better, at 
 least so far as the shrubberies and flower-bor- 
 ders are concerned, where to plant, than when 
 the plants have died down, or are denuded of 
 foliage. Moreover, when planting is deferred 
 until spring, many things are apt to be forgot- 
 ten in the rush of garden-work. The sooner 
 you plant a desirable tree, shrub, or flower, the 
 sooner you will derive the benefit. Even a fine 
 specimen perennial often requires years to attain 
 its development. The proper way, it may be 
 reiterated, is to plant something every year ; and 
 it is better to plant excessively, thinning out as 
 becomes necessary, than to plant sparingly. 
 
3Last 
 
 The older you grow, if you love your garden, 
 the more your taste will develop, and the more 
 you will regret not having set out a tree, shrub, or 
 perennial in the place it might occupy and adorn. 
 
 Autumn is variously voiced by the poets, 
 more often in a minor than a major key. De- 
 spite the pomp with which she appears, her 
 crimsoning woods are but the presage of ap- 
 proaching death, when the snow shall be her 
 burial shroud and winter's winds shall chant her 
 funeral dirge. Charming she is in her mingling 
 of October sunshine and shadow ; pitiful in her 
 mournful November garb. Yet let but a burst 
 of sunlight touch the leafless trees, and she is in- 
 stantly transformed. 
 
 In British verse autumn is usually dank and 
 sodden, bleak or shivering. The yew and the 
 holly seem to absorb the light and cast a pall 
 upon the landscape. The sugar and scarlet ma- 
 ple, the dogwood and sumac, are wanting to 
 impart their warmth of color ; and St. Martin's 
 summer somehow fails to shed a cheerful influ- 
 ence as does our Indian summer. Thus David 
 Gray : 
 
 October's gold is dim the forests rot, 
 The weary rain falls ceaseless while the day 
 Is wrapped in damp. In mire of village way 
 The hedgerow leaves are stamped ; and, all forgot, 
 
33 2 
 
 The broodless nest sits visible in the thorn. 
 Autumn, among her drooping marigolds 
 Keeps all her garnered sheaves, and empty folds, 
 And dripping orchards plundered and forlorn. 
 
 Even Shakespeare shivers : 
 
 That time of year . . . 
 
 When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang 
 Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, 
 
 Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. 
 
 Tennyson is pathetic, but neither somber 
 nor gelid : 
 
 Calm is the morn without a sound, 
 Calm as to suit a calmer grief, 
 And only through the faded leaf 
 
 The chestnut pattering to the ground : 
 
 Calm and deep peace on this high wold, 
 And on these dews that drench the furze, 
 And all the silvery gossamers 
 
 That twinkle into green and gold. 
 
 Of all odes to autumn, Keats's, I believe, is 
 most universally admired. This might almost 
 answer to our own fall of the leaf, and is far less 
 somber than many apostrophes to the season 
 that occur throughout English verse. Another 
 contemporaneous ode, though less generally ad- 
 mired, is, I think, equally fine and certainly 
 Stronger. Hood's is emphatically an ode to late 
 
2Tf)e 2Last .pLonfe's^fjootr Spfre. 333 
 
 November ; Keats's applies more strictly to late 
 October. Each is perfect in its way. Between 
 them exists the same difference as there exists 
 between Keats's and Leigh Hunt's rival sonnets 
 to the grasshopper and cricket. Keats's is less 
 forceful. Could there be anything stronger than 
 Hood's grand opening lines ? 
 
 I saw old Autumn in the misty morn 
 Stand shadowless like Silence listening: 
 To silence, for no lonely bird would sing 
 Into his hollow ear from woods forlorn, 
 Nor lowly hedge, nor solitary thorn. 
 
 It is the very shadow of November, when the 
 tire of autumn is burned out, and shivering Na- 
 ture silently awaits the shroud which is to cover 
 her. These four lines have rarely been equaled 
 in the picture they convey of autumn desolation : 
 
 Where is the pride of summer the green prime 
 The many, many leaves all twinkling ? Three 
 
 On the moss'd elm, three on the naked lime 
 Trembling, and one upon the old oak-tree ! 
 
 And again : 
 
 The squirrel gloats o'er his accomplish'd hoard, 
 The ants have brimm'd their garners with ripe grain, 
 
 And honey-bees have stored 
 The sweets of summer in their luscious cells ; 
 The swallows all have wing'd across the main ; 
 
334 OTe Barton's 
 
 But here the Autumn melancholy dwells 
 
 And sighs her tearful spells 
 Among the sunless shadows of the plain. 
 
 Alone, alone, 
 
 Upon a mossy stone, 
 
 She sits and reckons up the dead and gone, 
 With the last leaves for a love rosary. . . . 
 
 Keats's ode is less austere. It has more 
 of autumn gold than maroon ; more of pur- 
 ple haze than leaden skies. Thus, the sec- 
 ond stanza : 
 
 Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store ? 
 
 Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find 
 Thee sitting careless on a granary floor, 
 
 Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind ; 
 Or on a half-reaped furrow sound asleep, 
 
 Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook 
 Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers : 
 
 And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep 
 Steady thy laden head across a brook ; 
 Or by a cider-press, with patient look, 
 
 Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours. 
 
 The alliteration in s is noticeable in each of 
 the two preceding stanzas; but Hood's felici- 
 tous use of the vowel o throughout the ode 
 imparts to it a solemnity and gloom that ex- 
 press the mournful spirit of November such as 
 has no counterpart in poetry inspired by the 
 latter season. 
 
OTe Hast ifftonfc's^ootj Sjnre. 335 
 
 Thomson's old etching of Autumn still stands 
 out as sharply as when first defined : 
 
 Crown'd with the sickle and the wheaten sheaf, 
 While Autumn, nodding o'er the yellow plain, 
 Comes jovial on. 
 
 Its expressiveness must have caught the fancy 
 of the French, for a Gallic couplet reads : 
 
 Couronnee d'epis, tenant en main la faucille, 
 L'Automne joyeuse descend sur nos campagnes jau- 
 nissantes 
 
 which, if not a literal transcription, bears its col- 
 oring in a marked degree. 
 Herrick paints Autumn as 
 
 The Northern Plunderer 
 
 To strip the Trees and Fields to their distresse, 
 Leaving them to a pittied nakednesse. 
 
 I have always admired a version of Autumn 
 by an old master who painted in prose : 
 
 Autumn is the barber of the year who shears the 
 bushes, hedges, and trees the ragged prodigal who con- 
 sumes all and leaves himself nothing ; and this bald- 
 pated Autumn is seen going up and down orchards and 
 groves, fields, parks, and pastures, shaking off fruit and 
 beating leaves from the trees. 
 
 Charles Tennyson Turner's "October," like 
 all his sonnets, is stamped with a delicate and 
 graceful fancy : 
 
33 6 We tfSartren's 
 
 'Twas the last week the swallow would remain. 
 
 How jealously I watched his circling play ! 
 
 A few brief hours and he would dart away, 
 No more to turn upon himself again. 
 
 A more tender melancholy pervades the com- 
 panion sonnet to " Autumn " : 
 
 The crush of leaves is heard beneath his feet, 
 Mixt, as he onward goes, with softer sound, 
 As though his heel were sinking into snows. 
 Full soon a sadder landscape opens round, 
 With, here and there, a latter-flowering rose, 
 Child of the summer hours, though blooming here 
 Far down the vista of the fading year. 
 
 The sounds of latter autumn, which we have 
 all listened to from some still upland, are articu- 
 late in " An Autumn Landscape," by Alfred 
 Billings Street : 
 
 Far sounds melt mellow on the ear ; the bark 
 The bleat the tinkle whistle blast of horn 
 The rattle of the wagon-wheel the low 
 The fowler's shot the twitter of the bird. 
 
 Nowhere in American poetry, however, are the 
 lights and shadows of Indian summer drawn with 
 a truer touch than by Lowell and Read. Thus 
 the former's " An Indian Summer Reverie " : 
 
 Far distant sounds the hidden chickadee 
 
 Close at my side ; far distant sound the leaves ; 
 The fields seem fields of dream. . . . 
 
2H)e 2Last ^ftonfc'M)oo'& <Sjure. 337 
 
 The cock's shrill trump that tells of scattered corn, 
 Passed breezily on by all his flapping mates, 
 
 Faint and more faint, from barn to barn is borne, 
 Southward, perhaps to far Magellan's straits. . . . 
 
 The single crow a single caw lets fall ; 
 
 And all around me every bush and tree 
 Says Autumn's here and Winter soon will be, 
 
 Who snows his soft white sleep and silence over all. 
 
 And Read, in " The Closing Scene " : 
 
 All sights were mellowed and all sounds subdued, 
 The hills seemed farther and the streams sang low ; 
 
 As in a dream the distant woodman hewed 
 
 His winter log with many a muffled blow. . . . 
 
 The sentinel cock upon the hill-side crew, 
 Crew thrice, and all was stiller than before 
 
 Silent till some replying warder blew 
 
 His alien horn, and then was heard no more. . . . 
 
 But, amid the melancholy oL the autumn 
 Muse and the gloom of autumnal skies, I catch a 
 pleasing fancy to nurse through the tedious win- 
 ter hours. I thought the crocus the herald of 
 spring ; but in the copse I already catch a gleam 
 of vernal gold. The witch-hazel (Hamamelis 
 Virginiand) is first to put forth its sturdy blos- 
 soms, pure and fresh at this season as was the 
 gilded urn of March. Often I meet its flower- 
 clusters in the wintry woods when all its com- 
 panions save the oak, beech, and hornbeam are 
 
338 
 
 2T1)e (SJartien's 
 
 denuded of foliage, smiling at the cold and snow. 
 Does it not convey a meaning ? Its pale-yellow 
 petals speak to me of immortality, and its fra- 
 grant breath exhales a promise of coming flowers. 
 What more remains to say of the garden, 
 now shorn of its beauty, except that each year 
 one learns to love it more? Alone, defying 
 frost and sleet, the tall blue monk's-hood spires 
 remain, to be stricken down in turn, and patient- 
 ly await the dawn of spring. 
 
Acer polymorphum, 327. 
 
 rubrum, 27, 28, 326, 327. 
 Achillea rosea, 51. 
 Actaea, 318. 
 
 Actinidia polygamia, 241. 
 Adder's tongue, 71. 
 Addison on the fancy, 7. 
 Adiantum pedatum, 268. 
 Adonis vernalis, 131. 
 Agaricus campestris, 308. 
 Ageratums, 325. 
 Akebia quinata, 242. 
 Allen, Grant, 206, 210. 
 Alpine catchfly. See SILENE 
 
 ALPESTRIS. 
 
 Althseas, 35, 36, 234, 236, 276. 
 Alyssum, 131. 
 
 Amelanchier Canadensis, 73. 
 Androsace, 131. 
 Anemone, no, 123, 124, 127. 
 
 Alpina, 123. 
 
 blanda, 123. 
 
 fulgens, 123. 
 
 Japanese, 37, 52, 280, 306, 
 
 325- 
 
 nemorosa, 123. 
 palmata, 123. 
 
 Anemone pulsatilla, 123. 
 
 sylvestris, 123. 
 
 Angling masters, ancient, 201. 
 Anthemis tinctoria, 160, 247. 
 Ants, 45, 199, 319. 
 Aphides, 204. 
 Apios tuberosa, 242. 
 Apple-blossoms, 86. 
 Aquilegia, 141. 
 
 Canadensis, 72, 142. 
 
 chrysantha, 141. 
 
 ccerulea, 141. 
 
 glandulosa, 142. 
 
 longissima, 141. 
 
 Stuarti, 142. 
 
 vulgaris, 142. 
 
 Witmanni, 142. 
 Arbutus, 5, 61, 63, no. 
 Arethusa bulbosa, 129. 
 Arisaema triphyllum, 72. 
 Aristotle, 214, 250. 
 Arum arisarum, 73. 
 Ascham, Roger, 30, 31. 
 Asclepias tuberosa, 251. 
 Ash, 327. 
 Aspen, 198, 329. 
 Aspidium achrosticoides, 267. 
 
340 Entrejr. 
 
 Aspidium aculeatum, 267. Bees, a singular preference 
 
 cristatum, 267. shown by, 210. 
 
 felix-mas, 267. colors preferred by, 209. 
 
 Goldianum, 267. perforating the corolla, 212. 
 
 marginale, 267. and bears, 200. 
 
 spinulosum, 267. Beetles, destructive to flowers, 
 Asplenium ebeneum, 270. 217. 
 
 nigrum, 270. Bell, Peter, 54. 
 
 trichomanes, 270. Belleau, Remy, 59. 
 
 Association in odors, 7. Bell-flower, 146, 156, 157. 
 
 Aster amellus, 315. Bellworts, 73. 
 
 Aster, annual, 315. Berberis Fortuneii, 329. 
 
 Aster Novae Anglise, 314. Bermuda lily, 176. 
 
 Asters, 5,256,312-314. Bidens chrysanthemoides, 314. 
 
 Autumnal hues, 306, 326. Bills, the abomination of, 
 Autumn and the poets, 331. 197. 
 
 Autumn, the ode to, 320. Birds, migrating, 320. 
 
 Avens, scarlet, 248. Bitter-sweet, 305. 
 
 Azalea, no, 139, 140. Bitter-vetch, 160. 
 
 calendulacea, 140. Blackbird, 18, 81, 320, 321. 
 
 nudiflora, 140, 255. Black-cap chickadee, 255. 
 
 viscosa, 140, 255. Bladder-fern, 77. 
 
 Bladder-senna, 235. 
 
 Bachelor-buttons, 146, 250. Blood-root, 59, 63, no. 
 
 Bacon, Francis, 33, 34, 305. Blot, Pierre, 309. 
 
 Baneberry, 318. Bluebird, 18, 27, 59. 
 
 Barberry, 35, 236, 318. Blue jay, 20, 253. 
 
 purple-leaved, 235. flag, 72. 
 
 Bats, 149, 221, 222. Bluets, 78. 
 
 Baudelaire, 7. Bobolink, 82. 
 
 Beeches, 255, 328, 337. Bocconia cordata, 284. 
 
 Beech-fern, 78, 269. Bog-garden, the, 33, 76. 
 
 Bee-larkspur, 210-212. Bokhara bell-flower, 157. 
 
 Bee-masters, ancient, 199. Bombus terrestris, 212, 219. 
 Bees, 106, 159, 188, 193, 204, Books I must read, 25. 
 
 209, 212, 216, 218, 219, 230, for summer reading, 193, 
 241, 291. 202. 
 
34i 
 
 Books, pocket editions of, 87. 
 Borders, flower, 46, 51, 52. 
 
 size of, 38. 
 Borers, 199, 319. 
 Bosoms of the beautiful, 155. 
 Botanists, the German, 213. 
 Botrychium Virginicum, 267. 
 Bowne, Borden, 24. 
 Bracken, 267. 
 Brantome on feminine beauty, 
 
 67. 
 
 Brier rose, 146, 189. 
 Brisse, Baron, 10, 308, 309. 
 Brown-creeper, 255. 
 Bruchus pisi, 21. 
 Bryant, 17, 65. 
 Bull-frogs, 105, 321. 
 Bulwer, 8, 194, 228. 
 Bumble-bees, 159, 202, 204, 
 
 209-213, 219, 313. 
 Buphthalmum cordifolium, 
 
 247. 
 
 Burbidge, F. W., 79, 91. 
 Burns, Robert, 120. 
 Burr-marigold, 314. 
 Burroughs, John, 16, 19, 87, 
 
 277. 
 
 Bush cranberry, 317. 
 Butcher-bird, 19. 
 Butler, 200. 
 Butterflies, 193, 219, 223, 313. 
 
 a storm of, 313. 
 Butterfly-weed, 251. 
 Button-bush, 233. 
 
 Calendula, 156, 276, 316. 
 Calif ornian lilies, 175. 
 
 Calla-lily, 5. 
 Caltha palustris, 75, 76. 
 Calycanthus, 35, 235^ 
 Camellia, 5. 
 Camomile, 160. 
 Campanula barbata, 157. 
 
 Carpatica, 300. 
 
 macrantha, 157. 
 
 medium, 156. 
 
 persiscifolia, 157. 
 
 pulla, 157. 
 
 Camptosorus rhizophyllus,27o. 
 Canna, 300, 302. 
 Canterbury bells, 156. 
 Cardinal-flower, no, 136, 183, 
 
 252. 
 
 Carnation, 155, 250. 
 Castle of Indolence, the, 
 
 iQ3- 
 Catalogues, the florist's, 14, 88, 
 
 295- 
 
 Cat-bird, 82, 159, 319. 
 Celastrus scandens, 242. 
 Centaurea dealbata, 248. 
 
 glastifolia, 247. 
 
 macrocephala, 247. 
 
 montana, 247. 
 
 moschata, 248. 
 
 Ruthentica, 247. 
 Cephalanthus occidentalis, 
 
 233- 
 
 Ceterach officinarum, 270. 
 Cheilanthes vestita, 270. 
 Chelone glabra, 252. 
 Cherry, double-flowering, 86. 
 Chestnut-tree, 250. 
 Chickadee, 255, 336. 
 
342 
 
 Chionanthus Virginica, 230. Cornelian cherry, 236, 317. 
 
 Chionodoxa Lucilae, 107. Cornus Canadensis, 77, 78. 
 
 Chrysanthemum, 325. floridus, 74, 326, 328, 331. 
 
 maximum, 246. mascula, 317. 
 
 Cicada, 106, 250, 278, 280. Corolla, perforated by bees, 
 
 Cimicifuga racemosa, 318. 212. 
 
 Cineraria, 51. Cotoneaster, 236. 
 
 Cinquefoils, 131. Country gardens, 53, 143, 145, 
 
 Cladrastis tinctoria, 230. 156, 181. 
 
 Clare, John, 289. Cowslips, 4, 106. 
 
 Claytoaia parviflora, 63. Crab, garland-flowering, 86. 
 
 Virginica, 62. Cranesbill, 72. 
 
 Clematis, 237-239, 242, 305. Crickets, 7, 106, 234, 251, 278, 
 
 Jackmani, 34, 237. 300, 307, 320. 
 
 Clethra alnifolia, 74, 232, 233. climbing, 279. 
 
 Climbing shrubs, 236. green leaf, 241, 251, 278-280, 
 
 staff-tree, 242. 320, 321. 
 
 Club-moss, 255. Crocus, 28, no, 303, 337. 
 
 Colchicum autumnale, 303. autumnal, 303. 
 
 lily, 170. Cross-fertilization, 215. 
 
 Collins, William, 70. Crow-blackbird, 16, 20-22, 82, 
 
 Colors, 5, 8, 15, 38, 48, 55, 321. 
 
 61, 76, 121, 138, 139, 150, Crown-imperial, 61, 146. 
 
 152, 153, 174, 198, 209, 224, Crows, 15, 206, 337. 
 
 235, 245, 246, 252, 257, 276, Cryptogramme acrostichoides, 
 
 281, 301, 302, 306, 312,316, 270. 
 
 317, 318, 325-330. Culpepper, 290. 
 
 autumnal, 300. Currant, yellow flowering, 36. 
 
 unhappy use of, 153. Cypripedium acaule, 128. 
 
 when they harmonize, 153. arietinum, 129. 
 
 Columbines, 52, 72, 141. parviflorum, 128. 
 
 Colutea, 235. pubescens, 128. 
 
 Compass-plant, 293. spectabile, 128, 183. 
 
 Coptis trifolia, 127. Cystopteris bulbifera, 268. 
 
 Corchorus, 236. fragilis, 77, 78, 268. 
 
 Coreopsis, 156, 295. Czardas, a Hungarian, 82, 
 
 lanceolata, 161, 247, 295. 319. 
 
343 
 
 Daffodils (see also NARCISSUS), 
 4, 5, 49, 52. Chapter IV, 
 109, no, 146, 325. 
 
 catalogues, 88. 
 
 causes of color in, 95. 
 
 culture of, in England and 
 Holland, 98, 99. 
 
 dance of the, 96, 187. 
 
 hoop petticoat, 90, 98. 
 
 Horsfieldi, 4, 87, 92. 
 
 hybridizing, 91, 92. 
 
 innumerable forms of, 89. 
 Dahlia, 146, 301, 302, 325. 
 Daphne blagyana, 118. 
 
 cneorum, 3, 117. 
 
 mezereum, 3, 36. 
 
 rupestris, 118. 
 Darwin, Charles, 209, 212, 215, 
 
 224. 
 
 Dawn, a summer, 159. 
 Day-lilies, 161. 
 
 white, 146, 161, 285. 
 
 yellow. See HEMEROCALLIS 
 
 FLAVA. 
 
 Dead March in Saul, the, 197. 
 Delille, Jacques, 101, 104. 
 Delphinium Wheelerii, 210- 
 
 212. 
 Deutzia, 35, 36, 229. 
 
 crenata fl. pi., 229. 
 
 gracilis, 229. 
 
 pride of Rochester, 229. 
 
 scabra, 229. 
 Dianthus, 131, 155. 
 
 plumarius, 156. 
 Dicentra cucullaria, 72. 
 Dictamnus fraxinella, 145. 
 
 Dictionary, the, illustrations 
 
 in, 25. 
 
 Dielytra, 146. 
 Diervilla. See WEIGELA. 
 Dioscorides, 214. 
 Dobson, Austin, 194. 
 Doctor, my allopathic, 24. 
 Dod, Rev. C. W , 66, 115, 
 
 285. 
 
 Dodecatheon, 131. 
 Dog-tooth violet, 59, 71. 
 Dogwood, 74, 316, 318, 321. 
 
 shrubby, 235, 236. 
 
 variegated, 36. 
 Double-flowering rocket, 146, 
 
 161. 
 
 Downing, A. J., 101, 305, 328. 
 Downy woodpecker, 255. 
 Dryden, John, 104. 
 Dumas, pere, 9, 87, 197. 
 Dusk, a summer, 161. 
 Dutchman's breeches, 72. 
 Dwarf cornel, 77, 78. 
 
 spleenwort, 78. 
 
 East wind, the, 23, 203. 
 Eau de Cologne, 8. 
 Echinacea, 295. 
 Elaeagnus edulis, 236. 
 Elder, 231, 313. 
 
 black-fruited, 236. 
 
 cut-leaved, 36, 232. 
 
 fern-leaved, 36, 232. 
 
 golden-leaved, 36, 231. 
 
 variegated-leaved, 231, 236. 
 Emerson, R. W., no. 
 Epilobium, 256. 
 
344 
 
 Equinox, 14, 23, 24, 306. 
 Erianthus ravennae, 37. 
 Erlking, the, 197. 
 Erythronium Americanum, 71. 
 
 giganteum, 71. 
 
 grandiflorum, 71, 117. 
 
 Hendersonii, 71. 
 Eschscholtzia, 156, 276. 
 Ettrick Shepherd, the, 16. 
 Eulalias, 286, 300. 
 
 gracillina univitata, 300. 
 
 Japonica, 37, 300. 
 Euonymus, red-fruited, 236. 
 
 white-fruited, 236. 
 Eupatorium, 256. 
 Evening primrose, 98, 256, 286, 
 
 287, 312. 
 
 Ever-blooming pea, 161. 
 Evergreens, pruning, 37. 
 Everlasting, the field, 7, 136, 
 
 2 57 35 3 12 - 
 Exochorda, 36, 235. 
 
 False miter-wort, 126. 
 
 Solomon's-seal, 78, 125, 127. 
 
 violet, 127. 
 
 Fathom-high sunflower, 301. 
 Ferns, 33, 198, 255, 261. 
 
 beech, 78, 269. 
 
 Christmas, 267. 
 
 cinnamon, 266. 
 
 evergreen wood, 267. 
 
 hart's-tongue, 270. 
 
 interrupted, 265. 
 
 maiden-hair, 261. 
 
 oak, 77, 78, 127, 269. 
 
 Ostrich, 185, 261, 264. 
 
 Ferns, polypody, 77, 78, 126, 
 127, 269. 
 
 royal, 137, 241, 265. 
 
 sensitive, 266. 
 
 shield, 267. 
 
 spleenwort, 270^ 
 
 walking, 270. 
 Fertilization of flowers, the, 
 
 214. 
 Fire-flies, 161. 
 
 weed, 305. 
 Flagg, Wilson, 329. 
 Fleur-de-lis, 139. 
 Flora, spring and summer, 
 
 compared, 135. 
 Floral millennium, advent of, 
 
 15- 
 
 Flower catalogues, 14, 34, 
 88. 
 
 customs, Oriental, 151. 
 Flowers at the grave, 6. 
 
 for cutting, 138, 153, 156,302, 
 316. 
 
 indoor, 6. 
 
 nocturnal, 223, 224, 286, 287. 
 
 old-fashioned, 145, 148, 155, 
 249, 302. 
 
 prevailing colors of, 224, 
 Foliage, autumnal, 325-331. 
 
 colors of spring, 61. 
 Forsythia, 36, 83, 84. 
 
 Fortuneii, 83. 
 
 suspensa, 83. 
 
 viridissima, 83. 
 Fraxinella. See DICTAMNUS 
 
 FRAXINELLA. 
 
 Fringed polygala, 77, 78. 
 
345 
 
 Frogs, 27, 201, 321. 
 Frosts, the first, 306, 316, 325. 
 Funkia grandiflora, 285. 
 Fungi, 307, 312. 
 
 Garden, a cool place in the, 
 198. 
 
 a neglected, 148. 
 
 a reserve, 49. 
 
 a wild, 305. 
 
 a wild woods, 78. 
 
 the bog, 33. 
 
 the country, 53, 143, 145, 
 156, 181. 
 
 the formal, 32. 
 
 the golden rule of the, 32. 
 
 the herb, 146, 147. 
 
 the rock, soil for, 113. 
 
 the rock versus the rockery, 
 in. 
 
 the syllabus of the, 55. 
 Gardener, his apothegms, 107, 
 
 155. 
 
 Gardeners, 26, 160, 180, 188. 
 Gardening, natural style of, 
 34- 
 
 the art of, 31, 33. 
 Gardens and privacy, 35. 
 
 to lounge in, 306. 
 Garden-work in spring, 26. 
 Gautier, 9. 
 Geese, wild, 27. 
 Genista saggitalis, 131. 
 Gentian, no, 122. 
 Gentiana acaulis, 122. 
 
 Andrewsii, 122. 
 
 crinita, 122. 
 
 23 
 
 Gentiana verna, 122. 
 Geranium maculatum, 72. 
 Gerarde, 155, 289, 314. 
 Germans as botanists, 214. 
 Geum, 248. 
 Giant hyssop, 145. 
 Gladiolus, 302. 
 
 Gothe, 208. 
 Golden-banded lily. See L. 
 
 AURATUM. 
 
 Golden bell. See FORSYTHIA. 
 Golden-rod, 305, 312. 
 Goldfinch, 312. 
 Goldthread, 77, 78, 127, 255. 
 Grackle. See CROW-BLACK- 
 BIRD. 
 
 Grape hyacinth, 146. 
 Grass, crab, 44. 
 Grasses, lawn, 38. 
 
 ornamental, 37. 
 Grasshoppers, 204, 251, 279, 
 
 307, 320. 
 Gray, Asa, 54. 
 Gray, David, 331. 
 Gray's elegy, 69. 
 Great groundsel, 248. 
 
 Herball, 315. 
 
 sphinx, the, 220-223. 
 Green leaf cricket. See CRICK- 
 ET. 
 
 Ground pine, 78. 
 Guelder rose, 230. 
 
 Habenaria blephariglottis, 129. 
 ciliaris, 129. 
 fimbriata, 129. 
 psychodes, 129. 
 
346 
 
 Hair-bird, 193. 
 Halesia tetraptera, 232. 
 Hamamelis Virginiana, 337. 
 Hamerton, P. G., 75, 95. 
 Harebells, 131. 
 Harpalium rigidum, 294. 
 Harris, Thaddeus W., 21, 
 Hart's-tongue fern, 78. 
 Hawk-moths, 220, 221. 
 Heleniums, 294. 
 Heliantheae, 256, 280, 287-295, 
 
 301. 35, 3 1 ?- 
 
 Heliopsis laevis, 257, 288, 292. 
 Hellebore, black, 16. 
 Hemerocallis flava, 138, 142- 
 144, 150, 170. 
 
 fulva, 142, 144. 
 
 graminea, 144. 
 
 kwanzo variegata, 144. 
 
 kwanzo variegata, fl. pi., 144. 
 Hepaticas, 59, 62, 72, 106, 107, 
 
 no, 116, 254, 256. 
 Herbalists, the old, 214, 290. 
 Herrick, 276, 335. 
 Herrick's Julia, 87. 
 Hibiscus, 234. 
 Hickory, 327. 
 
 Hieraceum aurantiacum, 160. 
 Hildreth, Charles Lotin, 13. 
 Hollyhock, 146, 159. 
 Holmes, O. W., 70, 161. 
 Honey-bees, 199, 204, 212, 
 
 213, 333- 
 
 Honeysuckles, climbing, 239. 
 Japanese golden-leaved, 241. 
 Japanese, or Halleana, 199, 
 206, 220, 222, 240, 251, 275. 
 
 Honeysuckles, monthly fra- 
 grant, 241. 
 
 shrubby, 36, 146, 235. 
 
 swamp, 255. 
 
 wild, 137. 
 
 Hood, Thomas, 205, 332-334. 
 Hoop-petticoat daffodil, 90, 
 
 98. 
 
 Horace, 63. 
 Hornbeam, 255, 337. 
 Hornets, 202-204. 
 Horsemint, 249. 
 Hoteia Japonica, 154. 
 Howells, 273. 
 Hudsonia tomentosa, 119. 
 Humming-birds, 174, 206, 220, 
 
 223. 
 
 Hunt, Leigh, 333. 
 Hydrangea, 35. 
 
 paniculata grandiflora, 235^ 
 
 280, 304, 306. 
 Hylodes, 19. 
 Hypoxis erecta, 125. 
 
 Iberis corifolia, 124. 
 
 correaefolia, 124. 
 
 Gibraltarica, 124. 
 
 jucunda, 125. 
 
 sempervirens, 125. 
 
 tenoriana, 125. 
 Indian summer, 331. 
 Insect fertilization. Chapter 
 IX. 
 
 music, 204. 
 
 pests, 160, 171, 186, 188, 203, 
 204, 217, 239,282, 295, 304, 
 
347 
 
 Insecticides, 45. 
 Insects, edible, 22. 
 injurious to vegetation, 21, 
 
 3*9- 
 
 Ipomoea, 15. 
 Iris cristata, 124. 
 
 English, 138. 
 
 germanica, 137, 139, 146, 
 148. 
 
 Koempferi, 137. 
 
 pumila, 124. 
 
 reticulata, 124. 
 
 Spanish, 138. 
 
 Susiana, 138. 
 
 versicolor, 72. 
 
 Jack-in-the-pulpit, 72. 
 
 Jeff cries, Richard, 116, 134, 
 
 244, 297. 
 
 Jerusalem artichoke, 317. 
 Jesse, Edward, 13, 201, 202, 
 
 329- 
 
 Jewel-weed, 252, 256. 
 Jonquils, 6, 89, 97, 117. 
 
 Kalmia latifolia, 233. 
 Katydid, 19, 280. 
 Keats, John, 120, 161, 332- 
 334- 
 
 Ladies-tresses, 129, 256. 
 Lady's-slippers, 128, 183. 
 Lamb, Charles, 309. 
 Lang, Andrew, 60, 192, 194. 
 Larkspur, 146, 161, 206, 245, 
 
 250, 300. 
 Lawn, the, 38-46. 
 
 Lawn, pests of the, 43. 
 Leiophyllum buxifolium, 119* 
 Lemon-balm, 145. 
 Lemon-verbena, 250. 
 Lichens, 50. 
 
 Life in the country, 147. 
 Ligustrum, 232. 
 Lilac, 36, 136, 146, 229. 
 Lilies, 37, 49, 89, 161, 165, 195. 
 246. 
 
 among ferns, 185. 
 
 synopsis of, 169. 
 
 transplanting, 173. 
 Lilium auratum, 5, 7, 168, 177, 
 
 275, 303- 
 
 Brownii, 176. 
 
 bulbiferum, 26, 177. 
 
 Canadense, 141, 169, 183. 
 
 Canadense flavum, 183, 185. 
 
 Canadense rubrum, 141, 170, 
 182. 
 
 Canadense. varieties of, 
 184. 
 
 candidum, 172, 174. 
 
 Chalcedonicum, 174, 206. 
 
 colchicum, 170, 171. 
 
 croceum, 170. 
 
 excelsum, 174. 
 
 giganteum, 180. 
 
 Grayi, 181. 
 
 Hansoni, 174. 
 
 Harrisii, 176. 
 
 Humboldtii, 175. 
 . Isabellinum. See EXCEL/- 
 SUM. 
 
 longiflorum, 176. 
 
 martagon, 177. 
 
348 
 
 Lilium, martagon album, 177. 
 martagon dalmaticum, 177. 
 pardelinum, 175, 176. 
 pardelinum Alpinum, 176. 
 Parryi, 175. 
 parvum, 176. 
 Philadelphicum, 170, 172. 
 pulchellum, 172. 
 rubescens, 175. 
 speciosum, 168, 176. 
 speciosum Melpomene, 176. 
 superbum, 141, 181, 182. 
 tenuifolium, 171. 
 testaceum. See EXCEL- 
 
 SUM. 
 
 Thunbergianum, 177. 
 tigrinum, 181, 275. 
 tigrinum fl. pi., 181. 
 tigrinum splendens, 181. 
 umbellatum, 177. 
 Washingtonianum, 175. 
 Lily, legend of the, 166. 
 Madonna^i66, 172, 174. 
 of the valley, 6, 146. 
 tiger, 146, 181, 275. 
 wild Turk's-cap, 181. 
 wild wood, 183, 198, 206, 
 
 256. 
 Lime-tree, the, 193, 198, 199, 
 
 206, 230, 333. 
 Linaria vulgaris, 312. 
 Linden, 319. See also LIME- 
 TREE. 
 Linna^a borealis, 77, in, 125, 
 
 1270 
 
 Lobelia, blue, or syphilitica, 
 252. 
 
 Lobelia, cardinalis, 252. 
 
 Locust, 204. 
 
 Lonicera Halleana, 199, 206, 
 
 22O, 222, 240, 275. 
 
 Lotus corniculatus, 131. 
 Lowell, J. Russell, no, 336. 
 Lubbock, Sir John, 209. 
 Lungwort, 72. 
 
 Lychnis, scarlet or Chalcedo- 
 nica, 206, 245, 248. 
 
 Madonna lily, 166, 172, 174. 
 Magenta, 5, 15, 51, 55, 61, 152, 
 
 i53- 
 Magnolias, 26, 36, 83. 
 
 conspicua, 84. 
 
 glauca, 85. 
 
 Halleana, 36, 84, 240. 
 Magnolia Lennei, 84. 
 
 macrophylla, 84. 
 
 purpurea, 84. 
 
 Soulangeana, 850 
 
 Thomsoniana, 85. 
 
 tripetala, 85. 
 Maiden-hair, 327, 
 
 fern, 261, 268. 
 Maple, Japanese, 235, 327. 
 
 Norway, 327. 
 
 scarlet, 27, 28, 326, 327, 331. 
 
 sugar, 327, 331. 
 Marigold, 276. 
 Marsh marigold, 75, 76, 137. 
 Martagon lily, 177, 198. 
 Martial, 250. 
 Martin, purple, 18. 
 Martin, Sir Theodore, 101. 
 Matthiola annua, 303. 
 
349 
 
 May-beetle, 45, 282. 
 May-flies, 149. 
 
 Meadow-lark, 27, 59, 82, 321. 
 Meconopsis Cambrica, 120. 
 
 Nepalensis, 120. 
 Meleager, 251. 
 
 Menispennum Canadense, 242. 
 Mertensia Virginica, 72. 
 Midges, dance of the, 205. 
 Midsummer -Night's Dream, 
 
 the, 193. 
 
 Mignonette, 250. 
 Migrating birds, 320. 
 Milkweed, 160, 252, 320. 
 Miller, Hugh, 24. 
 Missouri currant, 87. 
 Mitchella repens, 126, 127. 
 Mock-orange, 36, 146, 148, 
 
 231. 
 
 Monarda, 206, 249. 
 Monk's-hood, 31, 146, 338. 
 Montgomery, Alexander, 164, 
 
 i75. 
 
 Moon-flower, 15. 
 Moonseed, 242. 
 Moonwort, 267. 
 Mosquitoes, 204= 
 Moss-pink. See PHLOX su- 
 
 BULATA. 
 
 Moths, 219, 223, 224. 
 Mottoes, 187, 197. 
 Mountain-ash, 319. 
 Mourning-dove, 193. 
 Mulleins, 257, 312. 
 Muller, Hermann, 209, 214, 
 
 216, 218, 221. 
 Mushrooms, 307, 308, 312. 
 
 Music, heating vs. cooling, 
 
 197. 
 
 Mutton, a roast leg of, 311. 
 Nankeen lily, 174. 
 Narcissus. See also DAFFO- 
 DIL. 
 
 Ard Righ, 94. 
 
 cernuus, 95. 
 
 corbularia, 980 
 
 corbularia citrina, 90, 
 
 double poeticus, 94, 97, 144. 
 
 emperor, 94. 
 
 empress, 92, 93. 
 
 Horsfieldi, 4, 87, 92, 93. 
 
 incomparabilis, 91, 93. 
 
 incomparabilis Barri, 91. 
 
 incomparabilis Leedsi, 91. 
 
 incomparabilis Nelsoni, 91. 
 
 Leedsi Circe, 95. 
 
 Leedsi cynosure, 96. 
 
 Mary Anderson, 960 
 
 maximus, 94, 
 
 nobilis, 95. 
 
 obvallaris, 4, 95. 
 
 odorus, 6. 
 
 orange phoenix, 93, 98. 
 
 pallidus praecox, 4, 95. 
 
 paper-white, 6. 
 
 poeticus, 93, 97, 117. 
 
 princeps, 95. 
 
 pseudo-narcissus, 93, 96. 
 
 Sir Watkin, 94. 
 
 sulphur phoenix, 93, 980 
 
 tazetta, 6, 97, 99. 
 
 tazetta, grand primo, 6. 
 
 tazetta, grand soleil d'or, 6. 
 
 Telamonius, 95. 
 
350 
 
 Nasturtium, 276. 
 
 Necessity of the hour, a, 17. 
 
 Nicotiana affinis, 286. 
 tabaccum, 286. 
 
 Night-flowering stock, 224. 
 
 Nightshade, purple, 252. 
 
 Noli me tangere, 256. 
 
 Norway maple, 327. 
 
 Nosegay, the old-fashioned, 
 249. 
 
 Nurserymen as money-mak- 
 ers, 83. 
 
 Nut-hatch, 255. 
 
 Oak, scarlet, 328. 
 Oak-fern. See FERNS. 
 Oaks, 318, 327. 
 Ode, an autumnal, 320. 
 Odors, 3, 6-9, 51, 136, 140, 145, 
 146, 151, 175, 186, 220, 231, 
 232, 242, 252, 275, 285, 286, 
 33> 338. 
 
 attractive to insects, 218-220, 
 
 224. 
 
 CEcanthus fasciatus, 279. 
 CEnothera biennis, 286, 287. 
 Onoclea sensibilis, 266. 
 
 struthiopteris, 183, 264. 
 Onosma taurica, 131. 
 Orange-lily, 165, 170. 
 Orchids, 7, 88, 127. 
 Orchis foliosa, 130. 
 
 latifolia, 130. 
 
 maculata, 130. 
 
 spectabilis, 77, 128. 
 Oriental poppy, 150, 170. 
 Oriole, 18, 82. 
 
 Orobus vernus, 160. 
 Osmunda cinnamomea, 266. 
 
 Claytoniana, 266. 
 
 gracilis, 265. 
 
 regalis, 265. 
 
 Ostrich fern. See FERNS. 
 Ostrowskia magnifica, 157. 
 Owls, 12, 13, 222, 253, 254. 
 Ox, the phantom, 195. 
 Oxlips, 4. 
 
 Paeonias, 37, 138, 139. 
 Papaver Alpinum, 120. 
 
 Hookeri, 122. 
 
 nudicaule, 120, 121. 
 
 Orientale, 150, 170. 
 
 Orientale bracteatum, 150. 
 
 Parkmanii, 150. 
 
 umbrosum, 121. 
 Partridge-vine, 78, in, 126, 
 
 127, 198, 255. 
 Pasque-flower, 123. 
 Peach, Japanese double-flow- 
 ering, 86. 
 
 red-flowering, 86. 
 
 rose-flowering, 86. 
 
 versicolor plena, 86. 
 Peepers. See HYLODES* 
 Pepperidge-tree, 328. 
 Perfume. See ODORS. 
 Periploca graeca, 242. 
 Petunia, 220, 276. 
 Pewee, wood, 159, 277. 
 Phantom ox, the, 195. 
 Phegopteris dryopteris, 269. 
 Philadelphicus coronarius, 
 231. 
 
35 * 
 
 Philadelphicus foliis aureis. 
 231. 
 
 Gordonianus, 231. 
 Phlox amoena, 119. 
 
 divaricata, 119. 
 
 perennial, 37, 118, 146, 280^ 
 281, 303. 
 
 procumbens, 119. 
 
 subulata, 117, 119. 
 Phoebe-bird, 277. 
 Pink lady's-slipper, 128, 183. 
 Plant infanticide, 118. 
 Planting too closely, 85. 
 
 too sparingly, 320. 
 Plants, Californian, 158. 
 
 capricious, 132. 
 
 carpet, 125-127, 130. 
 
 deterioration of, under cult- 
 ure, 127. 
 
 fertilized by insects, 141. 
 
 half-hardy, 53. 
 
 hybridizing, 140, 142, 281. 
 
 ill adapted to climate, 233. 
 
 massing, 52. 
 
 staking, 157, 203. 
 
 to be avoided, 52, 115, 131, 
 144, 268, 284, 285, 294. 
 
 to propagate, 49, 50. 
 
 transplanting, 48, 49, 173. 
 320. 
 
 water, 76, 137. 
 Plover, 27. 
 Plum, double-flowering, 84. 
 
 purple-leaved, 36, 235. 
 Plume-poppy, 284. 
 Polygala lutea, 119. 
 
 paucifolia, 77. 
 
 Polygonum cuspidatum, 284, 
 
 285. 
 
 Polypodium falcatum, 269. 
 Polypody. See FERNS. 
 Pope, Alexander, 305, 322. 
 Poppy, Alpine, 120. 
 
 double white, 146. 
 
 Iceland, 52, 120, 121, 171, 
 
 250. 
 
 Potash and iron medicine, 24. 
 Pot-pourri, 10, n. 
 Primroses, 4, 107, 116. 309. 
 
 in poetry, 109, no. 
 Primula auricula, 108, 116. 
 
 cortusoides, 108. 
 
 denticulata, 108. 
 
 farinosa, 109. 
 
 Mistassinica, 109. 
 
 Parryi, 109. 
 
 polyanthus, 108, n6 
 
 rosea, 108. 
 
 Sieboldi, 108. 
 
 Sikkimensis, io8 
 Prince's pine, 78. 
 Privets, 232, 236. 
 Protection, advantage of, for 
 trees, 84. 
 
 for plants, 114, 115. 
 Pruning, cruelty of, 83. 
 Prunus, 36. 
 
 triloba, 84. 
 Pteris aquilina, 267. 
 Pyrethrum, 152, 316. 
 Pyrolas, 78, 127. 
 Pyrus Americana, 319. 
 
 aucuparia, 319. 
 
 malus. 86. 
 
35 2 
 
 Quince, Japan, 35, 85. Salvias, 325. 
 
 Ranunculus aquatilis, 76. Sambucus 231. 
 
 Read, Thomas Buchanan, 336, Sand-myrtle 119. 
 
 Sanguinana Canadensis. See 
 
 -D , .', BLOODROOT. 
 
 Red spider, 27, 304. 
 
 Redwing, 27. Saponana ocymoides, 131. 
 
 Rhododendron, 139, I4 o. ^^^ ' 
 
 TJ, ,, , . . Savann, Bnllat, 300. 
 Rhus glabra lacmiata, 320. 
 
 Ribbon-grass, 146. Saxifraga cordifoha, 116. 
 
 Ribe 6> cotyledon, 117. 
 
 r> , , n longifoha, 117. 
 
 Robin, 4, 16, 18, 150, 310. 
 
 n vi TM.-I peltata, 117. 
 
 Robinson, Phil, 16, 17. 
 
 -r> , t , , , ,, . . bcabiosa atropurpurea. 248. 
 
 Rocket, double-flowering, 146, ~ 
 
 Caucasica, 248. 
 
 r, oi-o Scarlet maple, 27, 28, 326, 327, 
 Romneya Coulttn, 158. 
 
 Rook, the, 15. 
 
 Rose-beetle, i 7 z. Scillas ' Io6 ' ^ II6 ' 
 
 Rose, brier, 146. Scolopendrmm vulgare, 270, 
 
 Christmas, 16. Sea-lavender, 249. 
 
 , , , nr Sea-shore, the, 1070 
 legend of the, 186. 
 
 T\T T, j o Sedum, in. 112, 115. 
 Mane Rady, 180. 
 
 c c , . f benecio macrophylla, 248. 
 
 of Sharon, 35, 146, 234. . . 
 
 pulcher, 248. 
 
 pests, 188, 203. c { c v 
 
 Sensitive fern. See FERNS. 
 
 pot-pourri, 10, n. o , 
 
 ., , Sentiment, a charming, IT. 
 wild, 252, 305. 
 
 T, Shad-blow, 73, 328. 
 
 Roses, 7, 158, 161, 165, 186, c , . 
 
 . . Shakespeare, 2, 13, no, 200, 
 239, 246, 276. 
 
 autumnal flowering, 276. , 2 . 44 ' 323 ' 
 
 , . ., . . Shrubs, autumnal coloring of, 
 species, hybrids, and van- 
 
 eties of, 187-190. , 32 , ?' \ 29 ' 331 ' 
 
 Royal fern. See FERNS. hardy b rder ' 35 ' 37 ' 229 ~ 
 
 Rudbeckia, 288-293. 
 
 T, pruning, 36, 37. 
 
 Rue anemone, 73. no, 117. 
 
 T, , the sweet-scented, 35. 
 
 Ruffed grouse, 253, 267. . , , .... 
 
 with dark foliage, 235. 
 
 St. Peter's-wort, variegated, with ornamental fruit, 236, 
 
 236, 301, 317, 318. 
 
353 
 
 Shrubs, with variegated foli- 
 age, 235. 
 Silene, 131. 
 
 alpestris, 125. 
 Silk-vine, 241. 
 Silphiums, 293, 294, 305. 
 Silver-bell, 232. 
 Skunk-cabbage, 60. 
 Smilacina bifolia, 125. 
 Snails, 116. 
 Snake-head, 252. 
 
 root, 318. 
 
 Snowball, 36, 146, 230. 
 Snowberry, 236. 
 Snow-drops, 3, 31, no, 146. 
 Snow-pink, 146, 155, 156. 
 Soils, colors of, 61. 
 
 treatment of different, 46, 
 
 47i 304- 
 
 Soldanella, in. 
 Sounds, 8, 19-21, 27, 28, 105, 
 106, 159, 199, 204-206, 209, 
 250, 251, 253-255, 277-280, 
 319-322, 332, 336, 337. 
 Sour-gum, 328. 
 Sparrow, English, 16-18, 20, 
 
 43, 81, 149, 159, 188, 296. 
 song, 18, 27. 
 tree, 255. 
 
 white-crowned, 81. 
 white-throated, 81, 254, 3:30. 
 Speedwell, 249. 
 Sphinges, the, 220-223. 
 Sphinx, Carolina, 220. 
 cinerea, 220. 
 drupiferarum, 220. 
 Spiders, 295. 
 
 Spiranthes cernua, 129, 300. 
 
 gracilis, 129. 
 Spiraea aruncus, 154. 
 
 filipendula, 154, 171. 
 
 Humboldtii, 154. 
 
 lobata, 154. 
 
 palmata, 155. 
 
 prunifolia, 86, 329. 
 
 Thunbergii, 86. 
 
 ulmaria fl. pi., 154. 
 Spiraeas, herbaceous, 154. 
 
 shrubby, 36, 229, 230, 329. 
 Sprengel, Christian, 214. 
 Spring, an early, 27. 
 
 beauty, 59, 62, no, 116, 
 256. 
 
 bitter-vetch, 160. 
 Squirrels, 12, 254, 320, 333. 
 Star-flower, 77, 78, 127. 
 Star-grass, 78, 125, 127. 
 Starling, 321. 
 Starworts, 305, 3:4, 315. 
 Statice, 249. 
 
 Stinging annoyances, 203, 256. 
 Stocks, 146. 
 
 double ten- weeks, 303. 
 
 night-flowering, 224. 
 Street, Alfred Billings, 336. 
 Sugar-maple, 327, 331. 
 Sumac, 329, 331. 
 
 cut-leaved, 36, 329. 
 Sun-dial, the, 297, 306, 307. 
 Sunflower, Gerarde's descrip- 
 tion of the, 290. 
 Sunflowers, 146, 287-295. 
 Swallows, 147, 193, 205, 220, 
 333, 336. 
 
354 
 
 Swallows, chimney, 19. Tilton, Theodore, 195. 
 
 Swamp, a, 252. Toad-flax, 312. 
 
 honeysuckle. See AZALEA Toads, 105, 106, 115, 116. 
 
 VISCOSA. Tobacco-plants, 286. 
 
 pink. See AZALEA NUDI- Touch-me-not, 256. 
 
 FLORA. Tradescantia, 146. 
 
 Sweet birch, 255. Transplanting, best season for, 
 
 pepper-bush, 232. 330. 
 
 sultan, 248. Tree-sparrow, 255. 
 
 Sweet-gum, 326, 328. Tree-toad, 193. 
 
 Sweet-william, 146, 155, 156, Trees, autumnal hues of, 325- 
 
 250. 330. 
 
 Sword-grass, 146. Trillium, 62, 64, 65, 75, 254, 
 
 Symonds, John Addington, 256. 
 
 117, 187. erectum, 64. 
 
 Syringa, 35, 231. erythrocarpum, 64, 117. 
 
 golden, 236. grandiflorum, 117. 
 
 Tritoma, 280, 302. 
 
 Talmage, Dr., 5, 203. Trout-fishing at night, 221. 
 
 Tanacetum crispum, 285. Trout, Rocky Mountain, 18. 
 
 Tansy, curled-leaved, 285. speckled, 18, 254, 307. 
 
 Tecoma radicans, 241. Trumpet-flower, 147, 241. 
 
 radicans var. atrosanguinea, Tulips, 4, 146, 151. 
 
 241. Tunica saxifraga, 125, 300. 
 
 Tennyson, 13, 159, 161, 199, Turk's-cap lily, 181, 198. 
 
 221, 332. Turner, Charles Tennyson, 
 
 Thalictrum anemonoides, 73. 335. 
 
 Theocritus, 202, 251. Twin-flower, 77, in. See also 
 
 Thomson, James, 193, 335. LINN^A BOREALIS. 
 Thoreau, 13, 58, 148, 251, 260. 
 
 Thorns, 74, 313, 319. Uvularia grandiflora, 73. 
 Thrush, 8, 159. 
 
 hermit, 81. Vaccinium, 77, 127. 
 
 wood, 81, 82. Valerian, 146, 160. 
 
 Thyme, 146, 285. Veery, 253, 321. 
 
 Tiarella, 117, 126. Verbena, 220, 276. 
 
 Tiger-lily, 146, 170, 181, 275. Verdant sculpture, 37. 
 
355 
 
 Veronica longifolia subsessilis, 
 
 Water-lily, 5, 75, 106. 
 
 249. 
 
 Water-plants, 76, 137. 
 
 pumila, 125. 
 
 Water ranunculus, 75. 
 
 repens, 125. 
 
 Wayfaring tree, 318. 
 
 rupestris, 125. 
 
 Weather, the, 14, 15, 22, 23, 
 
 verbenacea, 125. 
 
 27, 28, 135, 193, 203, 245, 
 
 Vervain, 256. 
 
 246, 306. 
 
 Vesper-sparrow, 161. 
 
 Weeds, the big, 256. 
 
 Viburnum lantanoides, 236, 
 
 Weigela, 37, 234, 235. 
 
 318. 
 
 white, 36. 
 
 opulus, 236, 318. 
 
 White alder, 74, 232. 
 
 opulus sterilis, 230. 
 
 fringe, 230. 
 
 plicatum, 231. 
 
 White, Gilbert, 116, 205, 329. 
 
 rugosum, 318. 
 
 White-crowned sparrow, 81. 
 
 Viola blanda, 66. 
 
 White-throated sparrow, 81, 
 
 cornuta, 300. 
 
 254, 320. 
 
 cucullata, 65. 
 
 Whittier, J. G., no, 194. 
 
 odorata, 66. 
 
 Wild bean, 242. 
 
 pedata, 65. 
 
 carrot, 312. 
 
 pedata bicolor, 65, 300. 
 
 rose, 252, 305. 
 
 rostrata, 119. 
 
 thorns, 74, 313. 
 
 Violets, 5, 7, 8, 62, 63, 65, 66, 
 
 Turk's-cap lily, 181. 
 
 109, no, 161, 256. 
 
 Wild wood-lily, 183, 198, 206, 
 
 a hot-bed of, u, 12. 
 
 256. 
 
 how they became purple, 66. 
 
 Wind, Ruskin's plague, 23. 
 
 Marie Louise, 6. 
 
 Wind-flower. See ANEMONE. 
 
 Shakespeare's, 66. 
 
 Winter -green, 78, 126, 127, 
 
 under the, 70. 
 
 255- 
 
 Virgil, 250, 315. 
 
 Wistaria, 236. 
 
 Virgin's bower, 237, 238, 239, 
 
 Witch-hazel, 337. 
 
 252. 
 
 Woman as a monopolist, 8, 9. 
 
 Voices of Nature, 204. See 
 
 Woodcock, 27, 252. 
 
 also SOUNDS. 
 
 Woodpecker, downy, 255. 
 
 winter, 16. 
 
 Wood-pewee, 159, 277. 
 
 
 Wood-thrush, 8, 159. 
 
 Walton, Izaak, 201. 
 
 Woods, the wintry, 255, 267, 
 
 Wasps, 202, 204. 
 
 337- 
 
356 
 
 Woodsia Ilvensis, 270. Yellow-bird, 320. 
 
 obtusa, 270. Yellow-wood, 230. 
 
 Wordsworth, 96, 187. Yew, 331. 
 
 Wren, 18. 
 
 Zenachus, 250. 
 Xylocarpa Virginica, 210, 211. Zinnia, 5, 15, 316.