"Golden Glow" Rudbeckia is quite as strong a grower as the Delphinium, and a more prolific bloomer does not exist. It will literally cover itself with flowers of the richest golden yellow, resembling in shape and size those of the "decorative" type of Dahlia. This plant is a very strong grower, and so aggressive that it will dispute possession with any plant near it, and on this account it should never be given a place where it can interfere with choice varieties. Let it have its own way and it will crowd out even the grass of the lawn. Its proper place is in the extreme background, well to the rear, where distance will lend enchantment to the view. It must not be inferred from this that it is too coarse a flower to give a front place to. It belongs to the rear simply because of its aggressive qualities, and the intense effect of its strong, all-pervading color. You do not want a flower in the front row that, being given an inch, will straightway insist upon taking an ell. This the Rudbeckia will do, every time, if not promptly checked. It is an exceedingly valuable plant to cut from, as its flowers last for days, and light up a room like a great burst of strong sunshine.

Hollyhocks must have a place in every border. Their stately habit, profusion of bloom, wonderful range and richness of color, and long-continued flowering period make them indispensable and favorites everywhere. They are most effective when grown in large masses or groups. If they are prevented from ripening seed, they will bloom throughout the greater part of the season. The single varieties are of the tallest, stateliest growth, therefore admirably adapted to back rows in the border. The double kinds work in well in front of them. These are the showiest members of the family because their flowers are so thickly set along the stalk that a stronger color-effect is given, but they are really no finer than the single sorts, so far as general effect is concerned. Indeed, I think I prefer the single kinds because the rich and peculiar markings of the individual flower show to much better advantage in them than in the doubles, whose multiplicity of petals hides this very pleasing variegation. But I would not care to go without either kind.



Coreopsis lanceolata is a very charming plant for front rows, especially if it can have a place where it is given the benefit of contrast with a white flower, like the Daisy. In such a location its rich golden yellow comes out brilliantly, and makes a most effective point of color in the border.

Perennial Phlox, all things considered, deserves a place very near to the head of the list of our very best hardy plants. Perhaps if a vote were taken, it would be elected as leader of its class in point of merit. It is so entirely hardy, so sturdy and self-reliant, so wonderfully floriferous, and so rich and varied in color that it is almost an ideal plant for border-use. It varies greatly in habit. Some varieties attain a height of five feet or more. Others are low growers,—almost dwarfs, in fact,—therefore well adapted to places in the very front row, and close to the path. The majority are of medium habit, fitting into the middle rows most effectively. With a little care in the selection of varieties—depending on the florists' catalogues to give us the height of each—it is an easy matter to arrange the various sorts in such a way as to form a bank which will be an almost solid mass of flowers for weeks. Some varieties have flowers of the purest white, and the colors of others range through many shades of pink, carmine, scarlet, and crimson, to lilac, mauve, and magenta. The three colors last named must never be planted alongside or near to the other colors, with the exception of white, as there can be no harmony between them. They make a color-discord so intense as to be positively painful to the eye that has keen color-sense. But combine them with the white kinds and they are among the loveliest of the lot. This Phlox ought always to be grouped, to be most effective, and white varieties should be used liberally to serve as a foil to the more brilliant colors and bring out their beauty most strikingly.



Peonies are superb flowers, and no border can afford to be without them. The varieties are almost endless, but you cannot have too many of them. Use them everywhere. The chances are that you will wish you had room for more. They bloom early, are magnificent in color and form, and are so prolific that old plants often bear a hundred or more flowers each season, and their profusion of bloom increases with age, as the plant gains in size. Many varieties are as fragrant as a Rose, and all of them are as hardy as a plant can well be. What more need be said in their favor?

In order to attain the highest degree of success with the Peony, it should be given a rather heavy soil, and manure should be used with great liberality. In fact it is hardly possible to make the soil too rich to suit it. Disturb the roots as little as possible. The plant is very sensitive to any treatment that affects the root, and taking away a "toe" for a neighbor will often result in its failure to bloom next season. Keep the grass from crowding it. Year after year it will spread its branches farther and wider, and there will be more of them, and its flowers will be larger and finer each season, if the soil is kept rich. I know of old clumps that have a spread of six feet or more, sending up hundreds of stalks from matted roots that have not been disturbed for no one knows how long, on which blossoms can be counted by the hundreds every spring.

Dicentra, better known as "Bleeding Heart," because of its pendulous, heart-shaped flowers, is a most lovely early bloomer. It is an excellent plant for the front row of the border. It sends up a great number of flowering stalks, two and three feet in length, all curving gracefully outward from the crown of the plant. These bear beautiful foliage—indeed, the plant would be well worth growing for this alone—and each stalk is terminated with a raceme of pink and white blossoms. It is difficult to imagine anything lovelier or more graceful than this plant, when in full bloom.

The Aquilegia ought to be given a place in all collections. It comes in blue, white, yellow, and red. Some varieties are single, others double, and all beautiful. This is one of our early bloomers. It should be grown in clumps, near the front row.



The Iris is to the garden what the Orchid is to the greenhouse. Its colors are of the richest—blue, purple, violet, yellow, white, and gray. It blooms in great profusion, for weeks during the early part of summer. It is a magnificent flower. It will be found most effective when grouped, but it can be scattered about the border in such a way as to produce charming results if one is careful to plant it among plants whose flowers harmonize with the different varieties in color. Color-harmony is as important in the hardy border as in any other part of the garden, and no plant should be put out until you are sure of the effect it will produce upon other plants in its immediate neighborhood. Find the proper place for it before you give it a permanent location. The term, "proper place," has as much reference to color as to size. A plant that introduces color-discord is as much out of place as is the plant whose size makes it a candidate for a position in the rear when it is given a place in the immediate foreground.

Pyrethrum uliginosum is a wonderfully free bloomer, growing to a height of three or four feet, therefore well adapted to the middle rows of the border. It blooms during the latter part of summer. It is often called the "Giant Daisy," and the name is very appropriate, as it is the common Daisy, to all intents and purposes, on a large scale.

The small white Daisy, of lower growth, is equally desirable for front-row locations. It is a most excellent plant, blooming early in the season, and throughout the greater part of summer, and well into autumn if the old flower-stalks are cut away in September, to encourage new growth. It is a stand-by for cut flowers for bouquet work. Because of its compact habit it is a very desirable plant for edging the border.

It is difficult to imagine anything more daintily charming than the herbaceous Spireas. Alba, white, and rosea, soft pink, produce large, feathery tufts of bloom on stalks six and seven feet tall. The flowers of these varieties are exceedingly graceful in an airy, cloud-like way, and never fail to attract the attention of those who pass ordinary plants by without seeing them.

The florists have taken our native Asters in hand, and we now have several varieties that make themselves perfectly at home in the border. Some of them grow to a height of eight feet. Others are low growers. The rosy-violet kinds and the pale lavender-blues are indescribably lovely. Nearly all of them bloom very late in the season. Their long branches will be a mass of flowers with fringy petals and a yellow centre. These plants have captured the charm of the Indian Summer and brought it into the garden, where they keep it prisoner during the last days of the season. By all means give them a place in your collection. And it will add to the effect if you plant alongside them a few clumps of their sturdy, faithful old companion of the roadside and pasture, the Golden Rod.

It hardly seems necessary for me to give a detailed description of all the plants deserving a place in the border. The list would be too long if I were to attempt to do so. You will find all the really desirable kinds quite fully described in the catalogues of the leading dealers in plants. Information as to color, size, and time of flowering is given there, and you can select to suit your taste, feeling confident that you will be well satisfied with the result.

Just a few words of advice, in conclusion:

Don't crowd your plants.

Allow for development.

Don't try to have a little of everything.

Don't overlook the old-fashioned kinds simply because they happen to be old. That proves that they have merit.

Keep the ground between them clean and open.

Manure well each spring.

Stir the soil occasionally during the season.

Prevent the formation of seed.

Once in three or four years divide the old clumps, and discard all but the strongest, healthiest portions of the roots. Reset in rich, mellow soil. Do this while the plants are at a standstill, early in spring, or in fall, after the work of the season is over.



THE GARDEN OF ANNUALS

In preparing the garden for annuals, the first thing to do is to spade up the soil. This can be done shortly after the frost is out of the ground. This is about all that can be done to advantage, at this time, as the ground must be allowed to remain as it comes from the spade until the combined effect of sun and air has put it into a condition that will make it an easy matter to reduce it to proper mellowness with the hoe or iron rake.

Right here let me say: Most of us, in the enthusiasm which takes possession of us when spring comes, are inclined to rush matters. We spade up the soil, and immediately attempt to pulverize it, and of course fail in the attempt, because it is not in a proper condition to pulverize. We may succeed in breaking it up into little clods, but that is not what needs doing. It must be made fine, and mellow,—not a lump left in it,—and this can only be done well after the elements have had an opportunity to do their work on it. When one comes to think about it, there is no need of hurry, for it is not safe to sow seed in the ground at the north until the weather becomes warm and settled, and that will not be before the first of May, in a very favorable season, and generally not earlier than the middle of the month. This being the case, be content to leave the soil to the mellowing influences of the weather until seed-sowing time is at hand. Then go to work and get your garden ready.

If the soil is not rich, apply manure from the barnyard or its substitute in the shape of some reliable fertilizer.

Do this before you set about the pulverization of the soil. Then go to work with hoe and rake, and reduce it to the last possible degree of fineness, working the fertilizer you make use of into it in such a manner that both are perfectly blended.

There is no danger of overdoing matters in this part of garden-work. The finer the soil is the surer you may be of the germination of the seed you put into it. Fine seed often fails to grow in a coarse and lumpy soil.

In sowing seed, make a distinction between the very fine and that of ordinary size. Fine seed should be scattered on the surface, and no attempt made to cover it. Simply press down the soil upon which you have scattered it with a smooth board. This will make it firm enough to retain the moisture required to bring about germination.

Larger seed can be sown on the surface, and afterward covered by sifting a slight covering of fine soil over it. Then press with the board to make it firm.

Large seed, like that of the Sweet Pea, Four-o'-Clock, and Ricinus, should be covered to the depth of half an inch.

I always advise sowing seed in the beds where the plants are to grow, instead of starting it in pots and boxes, in the house, early in the season, under the impression that by so doing you are going to "get the start of the season." In ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, plants from seed sown in the house will be so weak in vital force that they cannot stand the change which comes when they are transplanted to the open ground. In the majority of cases, there will be none to transplant, for seedlings grown under living-room conditions generally die before the time comes when it is safe to put them out of doors. Should there be any to put out, they will be so weak that plants from seed sown in the beds, at that time, will invariably get the start of them, and these are sure to make the best plants. A person must be an expert in order to make a success of plant-growing from seed, in the house, in spring. There will be too much heat, too little fresh air, too great a lack of moisture in the atmosphere, and often a lack of proper attention in the way of watering, and unless these matters can be properly regulated it is useless to expect success. Knowing what the result is almost sure to be, I discourage the amateur gardener from attempting to grow his own seedlings under these conditions. If early plants are desired, buy them of the florists whose facilities for growing them are such that they can send out strong and healthy stock.

Do not sow the seeds of tender plants until you are quite sure that the danger from cold nights is over. It is hardly safe to put any kind of seed into the ground before the middle of May, at the north.

If we wait until all conditions are favorable, the young plants will get a good start and go steadily ahead, and distance those from seed sown before the soil had become warm or the weather settled. Haste often makes waste. If the soil is cold and damp seed often fails to germinate in it, and this obliges you to buy more seed, and all your labor goes for naught.

To the method and time of planting advised above, there is one exception—that of the Sweet Pea. This should go into the ground as soon as possible in spring. For this reason: This plant likes to get a good root-growth before the warm weather of summer comes. With such a growth it is ready for flowering early in the season, and no time is wasted. Dig a V-shaped trench six inches deep. Sow the seed thickly. It ought not to be more than an inch apart, and if closer no harm will be done. Cover to the depth of an inch, at time of sowing, tramping the soil down firmly. When the young plants have grown to be two or three inches tall, draw in more of the soil, and keep on doing this from time to time, as the seedlings reach up, until all the soil from the trench has been returned to it. This method gives us plants with roots deep enough in the soil to make sure of sufficient moisture in a dry season. It also insures coolness at the root, a condition quite necessary to the successful culture of this favorite flower.

Weeds will generally put in an appearance before the flowering plants do. As soon as you can tell "which is which" the work of weeding must begin. At this stage, hand-pulling will have to be depended on. But a little later, when the flowering plants have made an inch or two of growth, weeding by hand should be abandoned. Provide yourself with a weeding-hook—a little tool with claw-shaped teeth—with which you can uproot more weeds in an hour than you can in all day by hand, and the work will be done in a superior manner as the teeth of the little tool stir the surface of the soil just enough to keep it light and open—a condition that is highly favorable to the healthy development of young plants. I have never yet seen a person who liked to pull weeds by hand. Gardens are often neglected because of the dislike of their owners for this disagreeable task. The use of the weeding-hook does away with the drudgery, and makes really pleasant work of the fight with weeds.

If seedlings are to be transplanted, do it after sundown or on a cloudy day. Lift the tender plants as carefully as possible, and aim to not expose their delicate roots. Get the place in which you propose to plant them ready before you lift them, and then set them out immediately. Make a hole as deep as their roots are long, drop the plants into it, and press the soil firmly about them with thumb and finger. It may be well to water them if the season is a dry one. Shade them next day, and continue to do so until they show that they have made new feeding roots by beginning to grow. I make use of a "shader" that I have "evolved from my inner consciousness" that gives better satisfaction than anything else I have ever tried. I cut thick brown paper into circular shape, eight inches across. Then I cut out a quarter of it, and bring the edges of this cut together, and run a stick or wire through them to hold them together. This stick or wire should be about ten inches long, as the lower end of it must go into the soil. When my "shader" is ready for use it has some resemblance to a paper umbrella with a handle at one side instead of in the middle. This handle is inserted in the soil close to the plant, and the "umbrella" shades it most effectively, and does this without interfering with a free circulation of air, which is a matter of great importance.

If thorough work in the way of weeding is done at the beginning of the season, it will be an easy matter to keep the upper hand of the enemy later on. But if you allow the weeds to get the start of you, you will have to do some hard fighting to gain the supremacy which ought never to have been relinquished. After a little, the hoe can be used to advantage. If the season happens to be a dry one, do not allow the soil to become hard, and caked on the surface, under the impression that it will not be safe to stir it because of the drouth. A soil that is kept light and open will absorb all the moisture there is in the air, while one whose surface is crusted over cannot do this, therefore plants growing in it suffer far more than those do in the soil that is stirred constantly. Aim to get all possible benefit from dews and slight showers by keeping the soil in such a sponge-like condition that it can take advantage of them.

It is a good plan to use the grass-clippings from the lawn as a mulch about your plants in hot, dry weather.

Do not begin to water plants in a dry season unless you can keep up the practice. Better let them take the chances of pulling through without the application than to give it for a short time and then abandon it because of the magnitude of the task.

Furnish racks and trellises for such plants as need them as soon as they are needed. Many a good plant is spoiled by neglecting to give attention to its requirements at the proper time.

Make it a rule to go over the garden at least twice a week, after the flowering season sets in, and cut away all faded flowers. If this is done, no seed will come to development, and the strength of the plants will be expended in the production of other flowers. By keeping up this practice through the season, it is possible to keep most of them blossoming until late in the summer, as they will endeavor to perpetuate themselves by the production of seed, and the first step in this process is the production of flowers.

What flowers would you advise us to grow? many readers of this chapter will be sure to ask, after having read what I have said above about the garden of annuals.

In answering this question here, it will be necessary, in a measure, to repeat what has been, or will be, said in other chapters, where various phases of gardening are treated. But the question is one that should be answered in this connection, at the risk of repetition, in order to fully cover the subject now under consideration.

There are so many kinds of flowers offered by the seedsmen that it is a difficult matter to decide between them, when all are so good. But no one garden is large enough to contain them all. Were one to attempt the cultivation of all he would be obliged to put in all his time at the work, and the services of an assistant would be needed, besides. Even then the chances are that the work would be done in a superficial fashion. Therefore I shall mention only such kinds as I consider the very best of the lot for general use, adding this advice:

Don't attempt too much. A few good kinds, well grown, will afford a great deal more pleasure than a great many kinds only half grown.

This list is made up of such kinds as can properly be classed as "stand-bys," kinds which any amateur gardener can be reasonably sure of success with if the instructions given in this chapter are carefully followed.

Alyssum.—Commonly called Sweet Alyssum, because of its pleasing fragrance. Of low growth. Very effective as an edging. Most profuse and constant bloomer.

Aster.—This annual disputes popularity with the Sweet Pea. Very many persons would prefer it to any other because of its sturdy habit, ease of culture, profusion of bloom, and great variety of color. It is one of the indispensables.

Antirrhinum (Snapdragon).—Plant of profuse flowering habit. Flowers of peculiar shape, mostly in rich colors. Very satisfactory for autumn.



Balsam.—Splendid plant for summer flowering, coming in many colors, some of these exceedingly delicate and beautiful. Flowers like small Roses, very double, and set so thickly along the stalks that each branch seems like a wreath of bloom. It is often necessary to trim off many of the leaves in order to give the blossoms a chance to display themselves. Some varieties are charmingly variegated. Being quite tender it should not be sown until one is sure of warm weather.

Calliopsis (Coreopsis).—A very showy plant, with rich yellow flowers, marked with brown, maroon and scarlet at the base of the petal. A most excellent plant where great masses of color are desired. Fine for combining with scarlet and other strong-toned flowers. An all-the-season bloomer.

Candytuft.—A free and constant bloomer, of low habit. Very useful for edging beds and borders. Comes in pure white and purplish red.

Celosia (Cockscomb).—A plant with most peculiar flowers. What we call the flower is really a collection of hundreds of tiny individual blossoms set so close together that they seem to compose one large blossom. The prevailing color is a bright scarlet, but we have some varieties in pink and pale yellow. Sure to please.

Cosmos.—A plant of wonderfully free flowering habit. Flowers mostly pink, white, and lilac. A tall grower, branching freely, therefore well adapted to back rows, or massing. Foliage fine and feathery. Excellent for cutting. One of our most desirable fall bloomers. We have an early Cosmos of rather dwarf habit, but the large-growing late varieties are far more satisfactory. It may be necessary to cover the plants at night when the frosts of middle and late September are due, as they will be severely injured by even the slightest touch of frost. Well worth all the care required.

Four-o'-Clock (Marvel of Peru—Mirabilis).—A good, old-fashioned flower that has the peculiarity of opening its trumpet-shaped blossoms late in the afternoon. Bushy, well branched, and adapted to border use as a "filler."

Escholtzia (California Poppy).—One of the showiest flowers in the entire list. A bed of it will be a sheet of richest golden yellow for many weeks.

Gaillardia (Blanket-flower).—A profuse and constant bloomer, of rich and striking color-combinations. Yellow, brown, crimson, and maroon. Most effective when massed.

Gypsophila (Baby's Breath).—A plant of great daintiness, both in foliage and flowers. Always in demand for cut-flower work. White and pink.

Kochia (Burning Bush—Mexican Fire-plant).—A very desirable plant, of symmetrical, compact habit. Rich green throughout the summer, but turning to dark red in fall. Fine for low hedges and for scattering through the border wherever there happens to be a vacancy.

Larkspur.—Another old-fashioned flower of decided merit.

Marigold.—An old favorite that richly deserves a place in all gardens because of its rich colors, free blooming qualities and ease of culture.

Nasturtium.—Too well known to need description here. Everybody ought to grow it. Unsurpassed in garden decoration and equally as valuable for cutting. Blooms throughout the entire season. Does well in a rather poor soil. In a very rich soil it makes a great growth of branches at the expense of blossoms.

Pansy.—Not an annual, but generally treated as such. A universal favorite that almost everybody grows. If flowers of a particular color are desired I would advise buying blooming seedlings from the florist, as one can never tell what he is going to get if he depends on seed of his own sowing. The flowers will be as fine as those from selected varieties, but there will be such a medley of colors that one sometimes tires of the effect. I have always received the most pleasure from planting distinct colors, like the yellows, the blues, the whites, and the purples, and the only way in which I can make sure of getting just the colors I want is to tell the florist about them, and instruct him to send me those colors when his seedlings come into bloom.

Petunia.—Another of the "stand-bys." A plant that can always be depended on. Very free bloomer, very profuse, and very showy. If the old plants that have blossomed through the summer begin to look ragged and unsightly, cut away the entire top. In a short time new shoots will be sent out from the stump of the old plant, and almost before you know it the plant will have renewed itself, and be blooming as freely as when it was young. Fine for massing.

Phlox Drummondi.—One of our most satisfactory annuals. Any one can grow it. It begins to bloom when small, and improves with age. Comes in a wide range of colors, some brilliant, others delicate—all beautiful. Charming effects are easily secured by planting the pale rose, pure white, and soft yellow varieties together, either in rows or circles. The contrast will be fine, and the harmony perfect. Other colors are desirable, but they do not all combine well. It is a good plan to use white varieties freely, as these heighten the effect of the strong colors. I always buy seed in which each color is by itself, as a mixture of red, crimson, lilac, and violet in the same bed is never pleasing to me.

Poppy.—Brilliant and beautiful. Unrivalled for midsummer show. As this plant is of little value after its early flowering period is over, other annuals can be planted in the bed with it, to take its place. Set these plants about the middle of July, and when they begin to bloom pull up the Poppies. The Shirley strain includes some of the loveliest colors imaginable. Its flowers have petals that seem cut from satin. The large-flowered varieties are quite as ornamental as Peonies, as long as they last.

Portulacca.—Low grower, spreading until the surface of the bed is covered with the dark green carpet of its peculiar foliage. Flowers both single and double, of a great variety of colors. Does well in hot locations, and in poor soil. Of the easiest culture.

Scabiosa.—Very fine. Especially for cutting. Colors dark purple, maroon, and white.

Salpiglossis.—A free-blooming plant, of very brilliant coloring and striking variegation. Really freakish in its peculiar markings.

Stock (Gillyflower).—A plant of great merit. Flowers of the double varieties are like miniature Roses, in spikes. Very fragrant. Fine for cutting. Blooms until frost comes. Red, pink, purple, white, and pale yellow. The single varieties are not desirable, and as soon as a seedling plant shows single flowers, pull it up.

Sweet Pea.—This grand flower needs no description. It is one of the plants we must have.

Verbena.—Old, but none the worse for that. A free and constant bloomer, of rich and varied coloring. Habit low and spreading. One of the best plants we have for low beds, under the sitting-room windows. Keep the faded flowers cut off, and at midsummer cut away most of the old branches, and allow the plant to renew itself, as advised in the case of the Petunia.

Wallflower.—Not as much grown as it ought to be. Delightfully fragrant. Color rich brown and tawny yellow. General habit similar to that of Stock, of which it is a near relative. Late bloomer. Give it one season's trial and you will be delighted with it. Not as showy as most flowers, but quite as beautiful, and the peer of any of them in sweetness.

Zinnia.—A robust plant of the easiest possible culture. Any one can grow it, and it will do well anywhere. Grows to a height of three feet or more, branches freely, and close to the ground, and forms a dense, compact bush. On this account very useful for hedge purposes. Exceedingly profuse in its production of flowers. Blooms till frost comes. Comes in almost all the colors of the rainbow.

Because I have advised the amateur gardener to make his selection from the above list, it must not be understood that those of which I have not made mention, but which will be found described in the catalogues of the florist, are not desirable. Many of them might please the reader quite as well, and possibly more, than any of the kinds I have spoken of. But most of them will require a treatment which the beginner in gardening will not be able to give them, and, on that account, I do not include them in my list. After a year or two's experience in gardening, the amateur will be justified in attempting their culture—which, after all, is not difficult if one has time to give them special attention and a sufficient amount of care. The kinds I have advised are such as virtually take care of themselves, after they get well under way, if weeds are kept away from them. They are the kinds for "everybody's garden."

Let me add, in concluding this chapter, that it is wisdom on the part of the amateur to select not more than a dozen of the kinds that appeal most forcibly to him, and concentrate his attention on them. Aim to grow them to perfection by giving them the best of care. A garden of well-grown plants, though limited in variety, will afford a hundredfold more pleasure to the owner of it than a garden containing a little of everything, and nothing well grown.

In purchasing seed, patronize a dealer whose reputation for honesty and reliability is such that he would not dare to send out anything inferior if he were inclined to do so. There are many firms that advertise the best of seed at very low prices. Look out for them. I happen to know that our old and most reputable seedsmen make only a reasonable profit on the seed they sell. Other dealers who cut under in price can only afford to do so because they do not exercise the care and attention which the reliable seedsman does in growing his stock, hence their expenses are less. Cheap seed will be found cheap in all senses of the term.

I want to lay special emphasis on the advisability of purchasing seed in which each color is by itself. The objection is often urged that one person seldom cares to use as many plants of one color as can be grown from a package of seed. This difficulty is easily disposed of. Club with your neighbors, and divide the seed between you when it comes. In this way you will secure the most satisfactory results and pay no more for your seed than you would if you were to buy "mixed" packages. Grow colors separately for a season and I am quite sure you will never go back to mixed seed.



THE BULB GARDEN

Every lover of flowers should have a garden of bulbs, for three reasons: First, they bloom so early in the season that one can have flowers at least six weeks longer than it is possible to have them if only perennial and annual plants are depended on. Some bulbs come into bloom as soon as the snow is gone, at the north, to be followed by those of later habit, and a constant succession of bloom can be secured by a judicious selection of varieties, thus completely tiding over the usually flowerless period between the going of winter and the coming of the earlier spring flowers. Second, they require but little care, much less than the ordinary plant. Give them a good soil to grow in, and keep weeds and grass from encroaching on them, and they will ask no other attention from you, except when, because of a multiplication of bulbs, they need to be separated and reset, which will be about every third year. The work required in doing this is no more than that involved in spading up a bed for annual flowers. Third, they are so hardy, even at the extreme north, that one can be sure of bloom from them if they are given a good covering in fall, which is a very easy matter to do.

For richness and variety of color this class of plants stands unrivalled. The bulb garden is more brilliant than the garden of annuals which succeeds it.

September is the proper month in which to make the bulb garden.

As a general thing, persons fail to plant their bulbs until October and often November, thinking the time of planting makes very little difference so long as they are put into the ground before winter sets in. Here is where a serious mistake is made. Early planting should always be the rule,—for this reason: Bulbs make their annual growth immediately after flowering, and ripen off by midsummer. After this, they remain dormant until fall, when new root-growth takes place, and the plant gets ready for the work that will be demanded of it as soon as spring opens. It is made during the months of October and November, if cold weather does not set in earlier, and should be fully completed before the ground freezes. If incomplete—as is always the case when late planting is done—the plants are obliged to do—or attempt to do—double duty in spring. That is, the completion of the work left undone in fall and the production of flowers must go on at the same time, and this is asking too much of the plant. It cannot produce fine, perfect flowers with a poorly-developed root-system to supply the strength and nutriment needed for such a task, therefore the plants are not in a condition to do themselves justice. Often late-planted bulbs fail to produce any flowers, and, in most instances, the few flowers they do give are small and inferior in all respects.

With early-planted bulbs it is quite different, because they had all the late fall-season to complete root-growth in, and when winter closed in it found them ready for the work of spring.

Therefore, do not neglect the making of your bulb garden until winter is at hand under the impression that if the bulbs are planted any time before snow comes, all is well. This is the worst mistake you could possibly make.

The catalogues of the bulb-dealers will be sent out about the first of September. Send in your order for the kinds you decide on planting at once, and as soon as your order has gone, set about preparing the place in which you propose to plant them. Have everything in readiness for them when they arrive, and put them into the ground as soon after they are received as possible.

The soil in which bulbs should be planted cannot be too carefully prepared, as much of one's success with these plants depends upon this most important item. It must be rich, and it must be fine and mellow.

The best soil in which to set bulbs is a sandy loam.

The best fertilizer is old, thoroughly rotted cow-manure. On no account should fresh manure be used. Make use, if possible, of that which is black from decomposition, and will crumble readily under the application of the hoe, or iron rake. One-third in bulk of this material is not too much. Bulbs are great eaters, and unless they are well fed you cannot expect large crops of fine flowers from them. And they must be well supplied with nutritious food each year, because the crop of next season depends largely upon the nutriment stored up this season.

If barnyard manure is not obtainable, substitute bonemeal. Use the fine meal, in the proportion of a pound to each yard square of surface. More, if the soil happens to be a poor one. If the soil is heavy with clay, add sand enough to lighten it, if possible.

The ideal location for bulbs is one that is naturally well drained, and has a slope to the south.

Unless drainage is good success cannot be expected, as nothing injures a bulb more than water about its roots. Therefore, if you do not have a place suitable for them so far as natural drainage is concerned, see to it that artificial drainage supplies what is lacking. Spade up the bed to the depth of a foot and a half. That is—throw the soil out of it to that depth,—and put into the bottom of the excavation at least four inches of material that will not decay readily, like broken brick, pottery, clinkers from the coal-stove, coarse gravel—anything that will be permanent and allow water to run off through the cracks and crevices in it, thus securing a system of drainage that will answer all purposes perfectly. It is of the utmost importance that this should be done on all heavy soils. Unless the water from melting snows and early spring rains drains away from the bulbs readily you need not expect flowers from them.

After having arranged for drainage, work over the soil thrown out of the bed until it is as fine and mellow as it can possibly be made. Mix whatever fertilizer you make use of with it, when you do this, that the two may be thoroughly incorporated. Then return it to the bed. There will be more than enough to fill the bed, because some space is given up to drainage material, but this will be an advantage because it will enable you to so round up the surface that water will run off before it has time to soak into the soil to much depth.

I do not think it advisable to say much about plans for bulb-beds, because comparatively few persons seem inclined to follow instructions along this line. The less formal a bed of this kind is the better satisfaction it will give, as a general thing. It is the flower that is in the bed that should be depended on to give pleasure rather than the shape of the bed containing it.

I would advise locating bulb-beds near the house where they can be easily seen from the living-room windows. These beds can be utilized later on for annuals, which can be sown or planted above the bulbs without interfering with them in any respect.

I would never advise mixing bulbs. By that, I mean, planting Tulips, Hyacinths, Daffodils, and other kinds in the same bed. They will not harmonize in color or habit. Each kind will be found vastly more pleasing when kept by itself.

I would also advise keeping each color by itself, unless you are sure that harmony will result from a mixture or combination of colors. Pink and white, blue and white, and red and white Hyacinths look well when planted together, but a jumble of pinks, blues, and reds is never as pleasing as the same colors would be separately, or where each color is relieved by white.

The same rule applies to Tulips, with equal force.

We often see pleasing effects that have been secured by planting reds and blues in rows, alternating with rows of white. This method keeps the quarrelsome colors apart, and affords sufficient contrast to heighten the general effect. Still, there is a formality about it which is not entirely satisfactory to the person who believes that the flower is of first importance, and the shape of the bed, or the arrangement of the flowers in the bed, is a matter of secondary consideration.

Bulbs should be put into the ground as soon as possible after being taken from the package in which they are sent out by the florist. If exposed to the light and air for any length of time they part rapidly with the moisture contained in their scales, and that means a loss of vitality. If it is not convenient to plant them at once, leave them in the package, or put them in some cool, dark place until you are ready to use them.

As a rule Hyacinths, Tulips, and Narcissus should be planted about five inches deep, and about six inches apart.

The smaller bulbs should be put from three to four inches below the surface and about the same distance apart.

In planting, make a hole with a blunt stick of the depth desired, and drop the bulb into it. Then cover, and press the soil down firmly.

Just before the ground is likely to freeze, cover the bed with a coarse litter from the barnyard, if obtainable, to a depth of eight or ten inches. If this litter is not to be had, hay or straw will answer very well, if packed down somewhat. Leaves make an excellent covering if one can get enough of them. If they are used, four inches in depth of them will be sufficient. Put evergreen boughs or wire netting over them to prevent their being blown away.

I frequently receive letters from inexperienced bulb-growers, in which the writers express considerable scepticism about the value of such a covering as I have advised above, because, they say, it is not deep enough to keep out the frost, therefore it might as well be dispensed with. Keeping out the frost is not what is aimed at. We expect the soil about the bulbs to freeze. But such a covering as has been advised will prevent the sun from thawing out the frost after it gets into the soil, and this is exactly what we desire. For if the frost can be kept in, after it has taken possession, there will not be that frequent alternation between freezing and thawing which does the harm to the plant. For it is not freezing, understand, that is responsible for the mischief, but the alternation of conditions. These cause a rupture of plant-cells, and that is what does the harm. Keep a comparatively tender plant frozen all winter and allow the frost to be drawn out of it gradually in spring, and it will survive a season of unusual cold. The same plant will be sure to die in a mild season if left exposed to the action of the elements, because of frequent and rapid changes between heat and cold.

Whatever covering is given should be left on the beds as long as possible in spring, because of the severely cold weather we frequently have at the north after we think all danger is over. However, as soon as the plants begin to make much growth, this covering will have to be removed. If a cold night comes along after this has been done spread blankets or carpeting over the beds. Keep them from resting on the tender growth of the plants by driving pegs into the soil a short distance apart, all over the bed. The young plants may not be killed by quite a severe freeze, but they will be injured by it, and injury of any kind should be guarded against at this season, if you want fine flowers.



Holland Hyacinths should receive first consideration, because they are less likely to disappoint than any other hardy bulb. There are single and double kinds, both desirable. Personally I prefer the single sorts, as they are less prim and formal than the double varieties, whose flowers are so thickly set along the stalk that individuality of bloom is almost wholly lost sight of. They are, in this respect, like the double Geraniums we use in summer bedding, whose trusses of bloom resemble a ball of color more than anything else, at a little distance, the suggestion of individual bloom being so slight that it seldom receives consideration. However, they do good service where color-effects are considered of more importance than anything else. Single Hyacinths have their flowers more loosely arranged along the stalk, and are therefore more graceful than the double varieties, and their colors are quite as fine. These range from pure white through pale pink and rose, red, scarlet, crimson, blue and charming yellows to dark purple.

Roman Hyacinths are too tender for outdoor culture at the north.

There are several quite distinct varieties of the Tulip. There is an early sort, a medium one, a late one, and the Parrot, which is prized more for its striking combinations of brilliant colors than for its beauty of form or habit. We have single and double varieties in all the classes, all coming in a wide range of both rich and delicate colors. Scarlets, crimsons, and yellows predominate, but the pure whites, the pale rose-colors, and the rich purples are general favorites. Some of the variegated varieties are exceedingly brilliant in their striking color-combinations.

The Narcissus is one of the loveliest flowers we have. It deserves a place very near, if not quite at, the head of the list of our best spring-blooming plants. Nothing can be richer in color than the large double sorts, like Horsfieldii, and Empress, with their petals of burnished gold. There are many other varieties equally as fine, but with a little difference in the way of color—just enough to make one want to have all of them. The good old-fashioned Daffodil is an honored member of the family that should be found in every garden. When you see the Dandelion's gleam of gold in the grass by the wayside you get a good idea of the brilliant display a fine collection of Narcissus is capable of making, for in richness of color these two flowers are almost identical.

Among the smaller bulbs that deserve special mention are the Crocus, the Snow Drop, the Scilla, and the Musk or Grape Hyacinth. These should be planted in groups, to be most effective, and set close together. They must be used in large quantities to produce much of a show. They are very cheap, and a good-sized collection can be had for a small amount of money.

Those who have a liking for special colors will do well to make their selections from the named varieties listed in the catalogues. You can depend on getting just the color you want, if you order in this way. But in no other way. Mixed collection will give you some of all colors, but there is no way of telling "which is which" until they come into bloom.

But in mixed collections you will get just as fine bulbs and just as fine colors as you will if you select from the list of named varieties. Only—you won't know what you are getting. Named sorts will cost considerable more than the mixtures.



THE ROSE: ITS GENERAL CARE AND CULTURE

The owner of every garden tries to grow roses in it, but where one succeeds, ten fail. Perhaps I would be safe in saying that ninety-nine out of every hundred fail, for a few inferior blossoms from a plant, each season, do not constitute success, but that is what the majority of amateur Rose-growers have to be satisfied with, the country over, and so great is their admiration for this most beautiful of all flowers that these few blossoms encourage them to keep on, season after season, hoping for better things, and consoling themselves with the thought that, though results fall short of expectation, they are doing about as well as their neighbors in this particular phase of gardening.

One does not have to seek far for the causes of failure. The Rose, while it is common everywhere, and has been in cultivation for centuries, is not understood by the rank and file of those who attempt to grow it, therefore it is not given the treatment it deserves, and which it must have, in order to achieve success in its culture. When we come to know its requirements, and give it proper care, we can grow fine Roses, but not till then. Those who form an opinion of the possibilities of the plant from the specimens which they see growing in the average garden have yet to find out what a really fine Rose is.

The Rose is the flower of romance and sentiment throughout the lands in which it grows, but, for all that, it is not a sentimental flower in many respects. It is a vegetable epicure. It likes rich food, and great quantities of it. Unless it can be gratified in this respect it will refuse to give you the large, fine flowers which every Rose-grower, professional or amateur, is constantly striving after. But feed it according to its liking and it will give you perfect flowers in great quantities, season after season, and then you will understand what this plant can do when given an opportunity to do itself justice.

The Rose will live on indefinitely in almost any soil, and under almost any conditions. I have frequently found it growing in old, deserted gardens, almost choked out of existence by weeds and other aggressive plants, but still holding to life with a persistency that seemed wonderful in a plant of its kind. I have removed some of these plants to my own garden, and given them good care, and time after time I have been as surprised as delighted at the result. The poor little bushes, that had held so tenaciously to life against great odds, seemed to have stored up more vitality in their starved roots than any others in the garden were possessors of, and as soon as they were given good soil and proper care they sent up strong, rank shoots, and thanked me for my kindness to them in wonderful crops of flowers, and really put the old residents of the place to shame. All through the years of neglect they had no doubt been yearning to bud and bloom, but were unable to do so because of unfavorable conditions, but when the opportunity to assert themselves came they made haste to take advantage of it in a way that proves how responsive flowers are to the right kind of treatment.

The Rose will only do its best in a soil that is rather heavy with clay, or a tenacious loam. It likes to feel the earth firm about its roots. In light, loose soils it never does well, though it frequently makes a vigorous growth of branches in them, but it is from a more compact soil that we get the most and finest flowers.



Some varieties do well in a soil of clay containing considerable gravel. Such a soil provides for the roots the firmness of which I have spoken, while the gravel insures perfect drainage,—a matter of great importance in Rose-culture. Success cannot be expected in a soil unduly retentive of moisture. Very heavy soils can be lightened by the addition of coarse, sharp sand, old mortar, and cinders. If the location chosen does not furnish perfect drainage, naturally, artificial drainage must be resorted to. Make an excavation at least a foot and a half in depth, and fill in, at the bottom, with bits of broken brick, crockery, coarse gravel, fine stone—anything that will not readily decay—and thus secure a stratum of porous material through which the superfluous moisture in the soil will readily drain away. This is an item in Rose-culture that one cannot afford to ignore, if he desires fine Roses.

A rich soil must be provided for the plants in order to secure good results. This, also, is a matter of the greatest importance. The ideal fertilizer is old, well-rotted cow-manure—so old that it is black, and so rotten that it will crumble at the touch of the hoe. On no account should fresh manure be used. If old manure cannot be obtained, substitute finely-ground bonemeal, in the proportion of a pound to as much soil as you think would fill a bushel-basket, on a rough estimate. But by all means use the cow-manure if it can possibly be procured, as nothing else suits the Rose so well. It will be safe to use it in the proportion of a third to the bulk of earth in which you plant your Roses. Whatever fertilizer is used should be thoroughly worked into the soil before the plants are set out. See that all lumps are pulverized. If this is not done, there is danger of looseness about some of the roots at planting-time, and this is a thing to guard against, especially with young plants.

Location should be taken into consideration, always. Choose, if possible, one that has an exposure to the sunshine of the morning and the middle of the day. A western exposure is a great deal better than none, but the heat of it is generally so intense that few Roses can long retain their freshness in it. Something can be done, however, to temper the extreme heat of it by planting shrubs where they will shade the plants from noon till three o'clock.

Care must be taken, in the choice of a location, to guard against drafts. If Roses are planted where a cold wind from the east or north can blow over the bed, look out for trouble. Plan for a screen of evergreens, if the bed is to be a permanent one. If temporary only, set up some boards to protect the plants from getting chilled until quick-growing annuals can be made to take their place. I have found that mildew on Rose-bushes is traceable, nine times out of ten, to exposure to cold drafts, and that few varieties are strong enough to withstand the effects of repeated attacks of it. The harm done by it can be mitigated, to some extent, by applications of flowers of sulphur, dusted over the entire plant while moist with dew, but it will not do to depend on this remedy. Remove the cause of trouble and there will be no need of any application.

Because the Rose is so beautiful, when in full bloom, quite naturally we like to plant it where its beauty can be seen to the best advantage. But I would not advise giving it a place on the lawn, or in the front yard. When plants are in bloom, people will look only at their flowers, and whatever drawbacks there are about the bush will not be noticed. But after the flowering period is over, the bushes will come in for inspection, and then it will be discovered that a Rose-bush without blossoms is not half as attractive as most other shrubs are. We prune it back sharply in our efforts to get the finest possible flowers from it, thus making it impossible to have luxuriance of branch or foliage. We thin it until there is not enough left of it to give it the dignity of a shrub. In short, as ornamental shrubs, Roses are failures with the exception of a few varieties, and these are not kinds in general cultivation. This being the case, it is advisable to locate the Rose-bed where it will not be greatly in evidence after the flowering season is ended. But try to have it where its glories can be enjoyed by the occupants of the home. Not under, or close to, the living-room windows, for that space should be reserved for summer flowers, but where it will be in full view, if possible, from the kitchen as well as the parlor. The flowering period of the Rose is so short that we must contrive to get the greatest possible amount of pleasure out of it, and in order to do that we want it where we can see it at all times.

Very few of our best Roses are really hardy, though most of the florists' catalogues speak of them as being so. Many kinds lose the greater share of their branches during the winter, unless given good protection. Their roots, however, are seldom injured so severely that they will not send up a stout growth of new branches during the season, but this is not what we want. We want Roses,—lots of them,—and in order to have them we must contrive, in some way, to save as many of the last year's branches as possible. Fortunately, this can be done without a great deal of trouble.

Here is my method of winter protection: Late in fall—generally about the first of November, or whenever there are indications that winter is about to close in upon us—I bend the bushes to the ground, and cover them with dry earth, leaves, litter from the barn, or evergreen branches. In doing this I am not aiming to keep the frost away from the plants, as might be supposed, but rather to prevent the sun from getting at the soil and thawing the frost that has taken possession of it. Scientific investigation has proven that a plant, though comparatively tender, is not seriously injured by freezing, if it can be kept frozen until the frost is extracted from it naturally,—that is, gradually and according to natural processes. It is the frequent alternation of freezing and thawing that does the harm. Therefore, if you have a tender Rose that you want to carry over winter in the open ground, give it ample protection as soon as the frost has got at it—before it has a chance to thaw out—and you can be reasonably sure of its coming through in spring in good condition. What I mean by the term "ample protection" is—a covering of one kind or another that will shade the plant and counteract the influence of the sun upon the frozen soil—not, as most amateurs seem to think, for the purpose of keeping the soil warm. I have already made mention of this scientific fact, and may do it again because it is a matter little understood, but is one of the greatest importance, hence my frequent reference to it.

If earth is used as a covering, it should be dry, and after it is put on, boards, or something that will turn rain and water should be put over it. Old oil-cloth is excellent for this purpose. Canvas that has been given a coating of paint is good. Tarred sheathing-paper answers the purpose very well. Almost anything will do that prevents the earth from getting saturated with water, which, if allowed to stand among the branches, will prove quite as harmful as exposure to the fluctuations of winter weather. If leaves are used,—and these make an ideal covering if you can get enough of them,—they can be kept in place by laying coarse wire netting over them. Or evergreen branches can be used to keep the wind from blowing them away. These branches alone will be sufficient protection for the hardier kinds, such as Harrison's Yellow, Provence, Cabbage, and the Mosses, anywhere south of New York. North of that latitude I would not advise depending on so slight a protection. Earth-covering is preferable for the northern section of the United States.



It is no easy matter to get sturdy Rose-bushes ready for winter. Their canes are stiff and brittle. Their thorns are formidable. One person, working alone, cannot do the entire work to advantage. It needs one to bend the bushes down and hold them in that position while the other applies the covering. In bending the bush, great care must be taken to prevent its being broken, or cracked, close to the ground. Provide yourself with gloves of substantial leather or thick canvas before you tackle them. Then take hold of the cane close to the ground, with the left hand, holding it firmly, grasp the upper part of it with the right hand, and proceed gently and cautiously with the work until you have it flat on the ground. If your left-hand grasp is a firm one, you can feel the bush yielding by degrees, and this is what you should be governed by. On no account work so rapidly that you do not feel the resistance of the branch giving way in a manner that assures you that it is adjusting itself safely to the force that is being applied to it. When you have it on the ground, you will have to hold it there until it is covered with earth, unless you prefer to weight it down with something heavy enough to keep it in place while you cover it. Omit the weights, or relax your grip upon it, and the elastic branches will immediately spring back to their normal position. Sometimes, when a bush is stubbornly stiff, and refuses to yield without danger of injury, it is well to heap a pailful or two of earth against it, on the side toward which it is to be bent, thus enabling you to curve it over the heaped-up soil in such a manner as to avoid a sharp bend. Never hurry with this work. Take your time for it, and do it thoroughly, and thoroughness means carefulness, always. As a general thing, six or eight inches of dry soil will be sufficient covering for Roses at the north. If litter is used, the covering can be eight or ten inches deep.

Do not apply any covering early in the season, as so many do for the sake of "getting the work out of the way." Wait until you are reasonably sure that cold weather is setting in.

Teas, and the Bourbon and Bengal sections of the so-called ever-bloomers, are most satisfactorily wintered in the open ground by making a pen of boards about them, at least ten inches deep, and filling it with leaves, packing them firmly over the laid-down plants. Then cover with something to shed rain. These very tender sorts cannot always be depended on to come through the winter safely at the north, even when given the best of protection, but where one has a bed of them that has afforded pleasure throughout the entire summer, quite naturally he dislikes to lose them if there is a possibility of saving them, and he will be willing to make an effort to carry them through the winter. If only part of them are saved, he will feel amply repaid for all his trouble. Generally all the old top will have to be cut away, but that does not matter with Roses of this class, as vigorous shoots will be sent up, early in the season, if the roots are alive, therefore little or no harm is done by the entire removal of the old growth.

The best Roses to plant are those grown by reliable dealers who understand how to grow vigorous stock, and who are too honest to give a plant a wrong name. Some unscrupulous dealers, whose supply of plants is limited to a few of the kinds easiest to grow, will fill any order you send them, and your plants will come to you labelled to correspond with your order. But when they come into bloom, you may find that you have got kinds that you did not order, and did not care for. The honest dealer never plays this trick on his customers. If he hasn't the kinds you order, he will tell you so. Therefore, before ordering, try to find out who the honest dealers are, and give no order to any firm not well recommended by persons in whose opinion you have entire confidence. There are scores of such firms, but they do not advertise as extensively as the newer ones, because they have many old customers who do their advertising for them by "speaking good words" in their favor to friends who need anything in their line.

I would advise purchasing two-year-old plants, always. They have much stronger roots than those of the one-year-old class, and will give a fairly good crop of flowers the first season, as a general thing. And when one sets out a new Rose, he is always in a hurry to see "what it looks like."

Be sure to buy plants on their own roots. It is claimed by many growers that many varieties of the Rose do better when grafted on vigorous stock than they do on their own roots, and this is doubtless true. But it is also true that the stock of these kinds can be increased more rapidly by grafting than from cuttings, and, because of this, many dealers resort to this method of securing a supply of salable plants. It is money in their pockets to do so. But it is an objectionable plan, because the scion of a choice variety grafted to a root of an inferior kind is quite likely to die off, and when this happens you have a worthless plant. Strong and vigorous branches may be sent up from the root, but from them you will get no flowers, because the root from which they spring is that of a non-flowering sort. Many persons cannot understand why it is that plants so luxuriant in growth fail to bloom, but when they discover that this growth comes from the root below where the graft was inserted, the mystery is explained to them. When grafted plants are used, care must be taken to remove every shoot that appears about the plant unless it is sent out above the graft. If the shoots that are sent up from below the graft are allowed to remain, the grafted portion will soon die off, because these shoots from the root of the variety upon which it was "worked" will speedily rob it of vitality and render it worthless. All this risk is avoided by planting only kinds which are grown upon their own roots.

In planting Roses, make the hole in which they are to be set large enough to admit of spreading out their roots evenly and naturally. Let it be deep enough to bring the roots about the same distance below the surface as the plant shows them to have been before it was taken from the nursery row. When the roots are properly straightened out, fill in about them with fine soil, and firm it down well, and then add two or three inches more of soil, after which at least a pailful of water should be applied to each plant, to thoroughly settle the soil between and about the roots. Avoid loose planting if you want your plants to get a good start, and do well. When all the soil has been returned to the hole, add a mulch of coarse manure to prevent too rapid evaporation of moisture while the plants are putting forth new feeding roots.

If large-rooted plants are procured from the nursery, quite likely some of the larger roots will be injured by the spade in lifting them from the row. Look over these roots carefully, and cut off the ends of all that have been bruised, before planting. A smooth cut will heal readily, but a ragged one will not.

We have several classes or divisions of Roses adapted to culture at the north. The June Roses are those which give a bountiful crop of flowers at the beginning of summer, but none thereafter. This class includes the Provence, the Mosses, the Scotch and Austrian kinds, Harrison's Yellow, Madame Plantier, and the climbers.



The Hybrid Perpetuals bloom profusely in early summer, and sparingly thereafter, at intervals, until the coming of cold weather. These are, in many respects, the most beautiful of all Roses.

The ever-bloomers are made up of Bengal, Bourbon, Tea and Noisette varieties. These are small in habit of growth, but exquisitely beautiful in form and color, and most kinds are so delightfully fragrant, and flower so freely from June to the coming of cold weather, that no garden should be without a bed of them.

The Rugosa Roses are more valuable as shrubs than as flowering plants, though their large, bright, single flowers are extremely attractive. Their chief attraction is their beautifully crinkled foliage, of a rich green, and their bright crimson fruit which is retained throughout the season. This class gives flowers, at intervals, from June to October.

Hybrid Perpetuals must be given special treatment in order to secure flowers from them throughout the season. Their blossoms are always produced on new growth, therefore, if you would keep them producing flowers, you must keep them growing. This is done by feeding the plant liberally, and cutting back the branches upon which flowers have been produced to a strong bud from which a new branch can be developed. In this way we keep the plant constantly renewing itself, and in the process of renewal we are likely to get a good many flowers where we would get few, or none, if we were to let the plant take care of itself. The term "perpetual" is, however, a misleading one, as it suggests a constant production of flowers. Most varieties of this class, as has been said, will bloom occasionally, after the first generous crop of the season, but never very freely, and often not at all unless the treatment outlined above is carefully followed. But so beautiful are the Roses of this class that one fine flower is worth a score of ordinary blossoms, and the lover of the Rose will willingly devote a good deal of time and labor to the production of it.



The Ramblers, now so popular, constitute a class by themselves, in many respects. They are of wonderfully vigorous habit, have a score or more of flowers where others have but one bloom early in the season, and give a wonderful show of color. The individual blossoms are too small to please the critical Rose-grower, but there are so many in each cluster, and these clusters are so numerous, that the general effect is most charming. Crimson Rambler is too well known to need description. The variety that deserves a place at the very head of the list, allowing me to be judge, is Dorothy Perkins. This variety is of slenderer growth than Crimson Rambler, therefore of more vine-like habit, and, on this account, better adapted to use about porches and verandas, where it can be trained along the cornice in a graceful fashion that the stiff-branched Crimson Rambler will not admit of. Its foliage is not so large as that of the other variety named, but it is much more attractive, being finely cut, and having a glossy surface that adds much to the beauty of the plant. But the chief charm of the plant is its soft pink flowers, dainty and delicate in the extreme. These are produced in long, loose sprays instead of crowded clusters, thus making the effect of a plant in full bloom vastly more graceful than that of any of the others of the class.

Roses have their enemies, and it would seem as if there must be some sort of understanding among them as to the date of attack, because nearly all of them put in an appearance at about the same time. The aphis I find no difficulty in keeping down by the use of Nicoticide—a very strongly concentrated extract of the nicotine principle of tobacco. This should be diluted with water, as directed on the cans or bottles in which it is put up, and applied to all parts of the bush with a sprayer. Do not wait for the aphis to appear before beginning warfare against him. You can count on his coming, therefore it is well to act on the offensive, instead of the defensive, for it is an easier matter to keep him away altogether than it is to get rid of him after he has taken possession of your bushes. If he finds the tang of Nicoticide clinging to the foliage on his arrival, he will speedily conclude that it will be made extremely uncomfortable for him, if he decides to locate, and he will look for more congenial quarters elsewhere.

For the worm that does so much injury to our plants at the time when they are just getting ready to bloom, I use an emulsion made by adding two quarts kerosene to one part of laundry soap. The soap should be reduced to a liquid, and allowed to become very hot, before the oil is added. Then agitate the two rapidly and forcibly until they unite in a jelly-like substance. The easiest and quickest way to secure an emulsion is by using a brass syringe such as florists sprinkle their plants with. Insert it in the vessel containing the oil and soap, and draw into it as much of the liquids as it will contain, and then expel them with as much force as possible, and continue to do this until the desired union has taken place. Use one part of the emulsion to eight or ten parts water, and make sure it reaches every portion of the bush.

In Rose-culture, as in every branch of floriculture, the price of success is constant vigilance. If you do not get the start of insect enemies, and keep them under control, they will almost invariably ruin your crop of flowers, and often the bushes themselves. Therefore be thorough and persistent in the warfare waged against the common enemy, and do not relax your efforts until he is routed.

In making a selection of Hybrid Perpetuals for home planting, the amateur finds it difficult to choose from the long lists sent out by many dealers. He wants the best and most representative of the class, but he doesn't know which these are. If I were asked to select a dozen kinds, my choice would be the following:

Alfred Colomb. Bright crimson. Fragrant.

Anna de Diesbach. Carmine. Fragrant.

Baroness Rothschild. Soft pink.

Captain Hayward. Deep rose. Perfect in form.

Frau Carl Druschki. Pure white.

General Jacqueminot. Brilliant crimson. Very sweet.

Jules Margottin. Rosy crimson.

Mabel Morrison. White, delicately shaded with blush.

Magna Charta. Glowing carmine. A lovely flower.

Madame Gabriel de Luizet. Delicate pink. Exquisite.

Mrs. John Laing. Soft pink. Very fragrant.

Ulrich Brunner. Bright cherry red.

To increase the above list would be to duplicate colors, for nearly all the other kinds included in the dealers' lists are variations of the distinctive qualities of the above. The twelve named will give you more pleasure than a larger number of less distinctive kinds would, for in each merit stands out pre-eminent, and all the best qualities of the best Roses are represented in the list.



THE ROSE AS A SUMMER BEDDER

The amateur gardener may enjoy Roses from June to November if he is willing to take a little trouble for them. Not, however, with the material treated of in the chapter on "The Rose"—though what is said in it relative to the culture of the Hybrid Perpetual class applies with considerable pertinence to the classes of which I shall make special mention in this chapter—but with the summer-blooming sorts, such as the Teas, the Bengals, the Bourbons, and the Noisettes. These are classed in the catalogues as ever-bloomers, and the term is much more appropriate to them than the term Hybrid Perpetual is to that section of the great Rose family, for all of the four classes named above are really ever-bloomers if given the right kind of treatment—that is, bloomers throughout the summer season. In them we find material from which it is easy to secure a constant supply of flowers from the beginning of summer to the closing in of winter.

In order to grow this class of Roses well, one must understand something of their habits. They send out strong branches from the base of the plant, shortly after planting, and these branches will generally bear from five to eight blossoms. When all the buds on the branch have developed into flowers, nothing more can be expected from that branch in the way of bloom, unless it can be coaxed to send out other branches. This it can be prevailed on to do by close pruning. Cut the old branch back to some point along its length—preferably near its base—where there is a strong "eye" or bud. If the soil is rich—and it can hardly be too rich, for these Roses, like those of the kinds treated of in the foregoing chapter, require strong food and a great deal of it in order to do themselves justice—this bud will soon develop into a vigorous branch which, like the original one, will bear a cluster of flowers. In order to keep a succession of bloom it is absolutely necessary to keep the plant producing new branches, as flowers are only borne on new growth. It will be noticed that the treatment required by these Roses is almost identical, so far, with that advised for the Hybrid Perpetuals. Indeed, the latter are summer ever-bloomers of a stronger habit than the class I am now speaking about. That is about all the difference there is between them, up to this point, except as regards the flowering habit. The Hybrid Perpetual blooms profusely in June and July, but sparingly thereafter, while the ever-bloomers bloom freely all the season after they get a good start.

Fertilizer should be applied at least once a month. Not in large quantities, each time, but enough to stimulate a strong and healthy growth. The plants should be kept going ahead constantly. Let them get a check, and you will find it a difficult matter to get many flowers from them after that, the same season. Give them the treatment that results in continuous growth and you will have Roses in abundance up to the coming of cold weather. Of course plants so treated are not to be expected to attain much size. But who cares for large bushes if he can have fine flowers and plenty of them?

The blossoms from the Teas and their kindred are never as large as those of the June and the Hybrid Perpetual classes, and, as a general thing, are not as brilliant in color. Some are delightfully fragrant, while some have no fragrance at all.

La France,—which is classed as a Hybrid Tea, because it is the result of hybridizing one of the hardier varieties with a pure-blooded Tea variety,—is one of the finest Roses ever grown. It is large, and fine in form, rich, though not brilliant, in color, is a very free bloomer, and its fragrance is indescribably sweet. Indeed, all the sweetness of the entire Rose family seems concentrated in its peculiar, powerful, but, at the same time, delicate odor. Color, pale pink.

Duchess de Brabant is an old variety, popular years and years ago, but all the better for that, for its long-continued popularity proves it the possessor of exceptional merit. It is of very free development, and bears large quantities of flowers of silvery pink.

Viscountess Folkestone is, like La France, a Hybrid Tea. It is an excellent bloomer. Its color is a soft pink, shaded with cream, with reflexed petals. It has a rich, June-Rose fragrance.

Maman Cochet is, all things considered, one of the best of its class. It blooms in wonderful profusion. It is a strong grower. Its color is a bright pink, overlaid with silvery lustre. It is very double, and quite as lovely in bud as in the expanded flower.



Hermosa is an old favorite. It is always in bloom when well cared for. Its rich carmine-rose flowers are very double, and are produced in prodigal profusion. But it lacks the charm of fragrance.

Caprice is a very peculiar variety. Its thick, waxen petals of rosy carmine are heavily blotched and striped with dark red, shading to crimson. It is most pleasing when the flower begins to expand.

Perle des Jardins is a most lovely Rose, of almost as rich a color as the famous Marechal Neil,—a deep, glowing yellow,—lovely beyond description. It is a very free bloomer, and should be given a place in all collections.

Sunset—another good bloomer—is a tawny yellow in color, flamed with fawn and coppery tints. It is an exquisite Rose.

Clothilde Soupert does not properly belong to either of the four classes mentioned above, though of course closely related. It is catalogued as a Polyantha. Its habit is peculiar. It bears enormous quantities of flowers, with the greatest freedom of any Rose I have ever grown, but its blossoms are small, and are produced in clusters quite unlike those of the other members of the ever-blooming class. Indeed, its habit of growth and flowering is quite like that of the Rambler varieties, on a small scale. But, unlike the Ramblers, its flowers are very double. They are produced at the extremity of the new branches, in clusters of fifteen to twenty and thirty. So many are there to each branch that you will find it advisable to thin out half of them if you want perfect flowers. In color it is a delicate pink on first opening, fading to almost white. At the centre of the flower it is a bright carmine. Give this variety a trial and you will be delighted with it.

It must not be understood that the above list includes all the desirable sorts adapted to general culture. It is simply a list of the most distinct varieties that respond satisfactorily to the treatment outlined, and from which the amateur gardener can expect the best results. There are scores of other varieties possessing exceptional merit, but many of them require the attention of the professional in order to give satisfaction, and are not what I feel warranted in recommending the amateur to undertake the culture of if large quantities of flowers are what he has in mind. Every one on the list given is a standard variety, and you will find that you have made no mistake in confining your selection to it.

I would advise the purchase of two-year-old plants. Younger plants seldom bloom with much profusion the first season.

Order your plants in April. Get them into the ground about the middle of May. Mulch the soil about them well. This will do away with the necessity of watering if the season happens to prove a dry one. In planting, be governed by the directions given in the chapter on "The Rose."

Try a bed of these ever-bloomers for a season and you will never afterward be without them. Other flowers will rival them in brilliance, perhaps, and may require less attention, but—they will not be Roses! One fine Rose affords more pleasure to the lover of the best among flowers than a whole garden full of ordinary blossoms can, and this is why I urge all flower-loving people to undertake the culture of the ever-blooming class of Roses, for I know they will give greater satisfaction than anything else you can grow.

In fall, the plants can be taken up, packed away in boxes of earth, and kept in the cellar over winter. Cut away almost the entire top when the plants are lifted. All that one cares to carry through the winter is the root of the plant.



THE DAHLIA

Thirty or forty years ago the Dahlia was one of our popular flowers. That is, popular among those who aspired to "keep up with the times," and grow all the new plants that had real merit in them. At that time but one form of it was considered worth growing, and that was the very double, globular type of flower. The single varieties were looked upon as worthless.

After a time the popularity of the flower waned for some reason hard to account for, except on the theory that there are fashions in flowers as in clothes. I presume that the true explanation is that we Americans are prone to run to extremes, and when we take up a plant and it becomes a favorite we overdo matters and tire of it because we see so much of it. Then we relegate it to the background for a time, and after awhile we drag it out of the obscurity to which we temporarily consigned it as a penalty for its popularity, and straightway it comes into greater prominence than ever, precisely as does the cut of a sleeve or the style of hair-dressing. This explanation may not be very complimentary to American good sense or taste, but I think it goes to the root of the matter. It is sincerely to be hoped that the time will come when our flower-growing will have no trace of the fad about it, and that whatever we cultivate will grow into favor solely because of real merit, and that its popularity will be permanent. I am encouraged to think that such may be the case, for some of the favorite flowers of the day have held their own against all newcomers for a considerable period, and seem to be growing in favor every year. This is as it should be.

It used to be thought that the Dahlia could not be grown successfully at the north if it were not started into growth in the house, or greenhouse, very early in the season. Nine times out of ten the result was a weak, spindling plant by the time it was safe to put it into the ground—which was not until all danger from frost was over. Generally such plants were not strong enough to bloom until about the time frost came in fall, for it took them the greater part of the season to recover from the effect of early forcing, in which the vitality of the plant suffered almost to the point of extinction, and to which was added the ordeal of the change from in- to out-door conditions. "Our seasons are too short for it," was the universal verdict. "At the south it may do well, but there's no use in trying to do anything with it at the north unless one has a greenhouse, and understands the peculiarities of the plant better than the rank and file of flower-loving people can expect to." So it came about that its cultivation was given up by small gardeners, and it was seen only on the grounds of the wealthier people, who could afford the services of the professional gardener.

We have learned, of late years, that our treatment of the plant was almost the opposite of what was required.

Some eight or ten years ago, I ordered a collection of choice varieties of the Dahlia. I ordered them early in the season, expecting to start them into growth in pots as usual. For some reason they did not come until the last day of May. It was then too late to start them in the usual way, and I planted them in the garden, expecting they would amount to nothing.

The result was, to me, a most surprising one.

The place in which I planted them was one whose soil was very rich and mellow. It was near a pump, from which a great deal of water was thrown out every day.

In less than a week after planting, the tubers threw up strong shoots, and these grew very rapidly under the combined effects of rich soil, warmth, and plenty of moisture at the roots. Indeed, they went ahead so rapidly that I considered their growth a discouraging feature, as I felt sure it must be a weak one.

The result was that when the State Horticultural Society held its summer meeting in the village in which I resided, on the twenty-eighth of August, I placed on exhibition some of the finest specimens of Dahlia blossoms the members of the Society had ever seen, and carried off eight first premiums.

Since then I have never attempted to start my Dahlias in the house. I give them an extremely rich soil, spaded up to the depth of at least a foot and a half, and made so mellow that the new roots find it an easy matter to work their way through it. Water is applied freely during the season. I consider this an item of great importance, as I find that the plant fails to make satisfactory development when located in a dry place. A pailful of water a day is not too much to apply to each plant in a dry season.

The soil must be rich. In a poor soil development will be on a par with that of plants which have been given a dry place.

Because of the peculiar brittleness of the stalks of the Dahlia it is quite necessary to furnish them with good support. My plan is to set a stout stake by each plant, at planting-time. This should be at least five feet tall. I put it in place at the time of planting the tuber, because then I know just where the root of the future plant is, and can set the stake without injuring it. But if stake-setting is left until later in the season one runs a risk of breaking off some of the new tubers that have formed about the old one. I tie the main stalk of the plant to the stake with a strip of cloth instead of a string, as the latter will cut into the soft wood. Sometimes, if the plant sends up a good many stalks, it will be necessary to furnish additional support. Unless some kind of support is given we are likely to get up some morning after a heavy rain, or a sudden wind, and find our plants broken down, and in attempting to save them we are pretty sure to complete the wreck, as a slight twist or turn in the wrong direction will snap the stalk off at its junction with the root.

The Dahlia will be found one of our very best plants for use in the border where something is needed for a filler. It is very effective as a hedge, and can be used to great advantage to hide a fence. Single specimens are fine for prominent locations on the grounds about the house. In fact, it is a plant that can be made useful anywhere.



In fall, when our early frosts come, it will be necessary to protect it on cool nights, as it is extremely tender. This can be easily done by setting some stout sticks about the plant and covering it with a sheet. If tided over the frosty weather that usually comes for two or three nights about the middle of September, it will bloom profusely during the weeks of pleasant weather that almost always follow the early frosts, and then is when it will be enjoyed most.

When the frost has killed its stalks, it should be dug and got ready for winter. Lift the great mass of roots that will have grown from the little tuber planted at the beginning of the season, and do this without breaking them apart, if possible. Spread them out in the sun. At night cover with a blanket, and next day expose them to sunshine again. Do this for several days in succession until the soil that is lifted with them will crumble away easily. Exposure to sunshine has the effect of relieving them of a good deal of moisture which they contain in great quantity when first dug, and which ought to be got rid of, in a large degree, before they are stored in the cellar.

The tubers should never be placed on the cellar-bottom, because of the dampness that is generally found there. I spread mine out on shelves of wire netting, suspended four or five feet from the floor. If they show signs of mould I know they are too damp, and elevate the shelves still more, in order to get the tubers into a dryer stratum of air. If they seem to be shrivelling too much, I lower the shelves a little. Cellars differ so much that one can only tell where the right place is by experimenting. Watch your tubers carefully. A little neglect will often result in failure, as mould, once given a chance to secure a foothold, is rapid in its action, and your tubers may be beyond help before you discover that there is anything the matter with them. As soon as you find a mouldy root, throw it out. If left it will speedily communicate its disease to every plant with which it comes in contact. Some persons tell me that they succeed in wintering their Dahlia tubers best by packing them in boxes of perfectly dry sand. If this is done, be sure to elevate the box from the floor of the cellar.

Quite naturally persons have an idea that the best results will be secured by planting out the whole bunch of tubers, in spring. This is a mistake. One good tuber, with an "eye," or growing point, will make a much better plant than the whole bunch set out together.

To sum up the treatment I advise in the cultivation of the Dahlia:

Have the ground very rich.

Have it worked deeply.

Plant single tubers about the first of June.

Furnish a good support.

See that the ground is well supplied with moisture.

There has been a great change of opinion with regard to the Dahlia. We no longer confine ourselves to one type of it. The single varieties, which were despised of old, are now prime favorites—preferred by many to any other kind. The old very double "show" and "fancy" varieties are largely grown, but they share public favor with the "decoratives," the pompones, and the cactus, and, as I have said, the single forms. Which of these forms is most popular it would be hard to say. All of them have enthusiastic champions, and the best thing to do is to try them all.

"Show" Dahlias are those with large and very double flowers of a single color, and those in which the ground color is of a lighter shade than the edges or tips of the petals. The outer petals recurve, as the flower develops, until they meet at the stem, thus giving us a ball-like blossom.

"Fancy" Dahlias are those having striped petals, and those in which the ground color is darker than the edges or tips of the petals. This class, as a rule, is very variable, and a plant will often have flowers showing but one color. Sometimes half the flower will be one color, half another.

The Pompone or Liliputian class is a miniature edition of the show and fancy sorts, quite as rich in color and perfect in form as either, but of a dwarf habit of growth. This class is well adapted to bedding out in summer.

The Cactus Dahlia has long pointed or twisted petals. Most varieties are single, but some are semi-double. This is the class that will be likely to find favor with those who admire the ragged Japanese Chrysanthemums.

Decorative Dahlias have broad, flat petals, somewhat loosely arranged, and much less formal than those of the show, fancy, or pompone sorts. Their flowers seldom have more than two rows of petals, and are flat, showing a yellow disc at the centre. As a general thing they are produced on long stalk, a flower to a stalk. This makes them very useful for cutting. They are the most graceful members of the entire Dahlia family, allowing me to be judge.

The single type has but one row of petals. Plants of this class are very strong growers, and can be used to advantage in the back rows of the border.

No flower in cultivation to-day has a wider range of color than the Dahlia, and nearly all the colors represented in it are wonderfully rich in tone. From the purest white to the richest crimson, the deepest scarlet, delicate pink and carmine, rich yellow, dark purple, orange and palest primrose,—surely all tastes can find something to please them.