The Project Gutenberg eBook, A Woman's Hardy Garden, by Helena Rutherfurd Ely, Illustrated by C. F. Chandler

A WOMAN’S
HARDY GARDEN

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
NEW YORK · BOSTON · CHICAGO · DALLAS
ATLANTA · SAN FRANCISCO
MACMILLAN & CO., Limited
LONDON · BOMBAY · CALCUTTA
MELBOURNE
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
OF CANADA, Limited
TORONTO

Rose Arch and Garden Walk.
From a water-color sketch by George B. Bartholomew.

A WOMAN’S
HARDY GARDEN
BY
HELENA RUTHERFURD ELY
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS FROM PHOTOGRAPHS TAKEN
IN THE AUTHOR’S GARDEN
BY
PROFESSOR C. F. CHANDLER
New York
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., Ltd.
1930

Copyright, 1903,
By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.
All rights reserved—no part of this
book may be reproduced in any form
without permission in writing from
the publisher.
Set up and electrotyped. Published January, 1903.

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
BY BERWICK & SMITH CO.

Dedication

TO THE BEST FRIEND OF MY GARDEN,
WHO, WITH HEART AND HANDS,
HAS HELPED TO MAKE IT
WHAT IT IS

PREFACE

This little book is only meant to tell briefly of a few shrubs, hardy perennials, biennials and annuals of simple culture. I send it forth, hoping that my readers may find within its pages some help to plant and make their gardens grow.

Meadowburn Farm
October, 1902

TABLE OF CONTENTS

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Garden gate, with Japanese gourds
September twenty-ninth

INTRODUCTION

CHAPTER I

INTRODUCTION

Love of flowers and all things green and growing is with many men and women a passion so strong that it often seems to be a sort of primal instinct, coming down through generation after generation, from the first man who was put into a garden “to dress it and to keep it.” People whose lives, and those of their parents before them, have been spent in dingy tenements, and whose only garden is a rickety soap-box high up on a fire-escape, share this love, which must have a plant to tend, with those whose gardens cover acres and whose plants have been gathered from all the countries of the world. How often in summer, when called to town, and when driving through the squalid streets to the ferries or riding on the elevated road, one sees these gardens of the poor. Sometimes they are only a Geranium or two, or the gay Petunia. Often a tall Sunflower, or a Tomato plant red with fruit. These efforts tell of the love for the growing things, and of the care that makes them live and blossom against all odds. One feels a thrill of sympathy with the owners of the plants, and wishes that some day their lot may be cast in happier places, where they too may have gardens to tend.

Broad grass walk
August twenty-fifth

It has always seemed to me that the punishment of the first gardener and his wife was the bitterest of all. To have lived always in a garden “where grew every tree pleasant to the sight and good for food,” to have known no other place, and then to have been driven forth into the great world without hope of returning! Oh! Eve, had you not desired wisdom, your happy children might still be tilling the soil of that blessed Eden. The first woman longed for knowledge, as do her daughters of to-day. When the serpent said that eating of the forbidden fruit would make them “as gods,” what wonder that Eve forgot the threatening command to leave untouched the Tree of Life, and, burning to be “wise,” ate of the fateful apple and gave it to her Adam? And then, to leave the lovely place at the loveliest of all times in a garden, the cool of the day! Faint sunset hues tinting the sky, the night breeze gently stirring the trees, Lilies and Roses giving their sweetest perfume, brilliant Venus mounting her accustomed path, while the sleepy twitter of the birds alone breaks the silence. Then the voice of wrath, the Cherubim, the turning flaming sword!

Through trials and tribulations and hardly learned patience, I have gained some of the secrets of many of our best hardy flowering plants and shrubs. Many friends have asked me to tell them when to plant or transplant, when to sow this or that seed, and how to prepare the beds and borders; in fact, this has occurred so often that it has long been in my mind to write down what I know of hardy gardening, that other women might be helped to avoid the experiments and mistakes I have made, which only served to cause delay.

But just this “please write it down,” while sounding so easy and presenting to the mind such a fascinating picture of a well-printed, well-illustrated and prettily bound book on the garden, is quite a different matter to one who has never written. When you diffidently try to explain the chaos in your brain, family and friends say, “Oh! never mind; just begin.” That often-quoted “premier pas!”

To-day is the first snow-storm of the winter, and, while sitting by the fireside, my thoughts are so upon my garden, wondering if this or that will survive, and whether the plants remember me, that it seems as though to-day I could try that first dreaded step.

Living all my life, six months and sometimes more of each year, in the country,—real country on a large farm,—I have from childhood been more than ordinarily interested in gardening. Surrounded from babyhood with horses and dogs, my time as a little girl was spent out of doors, and whenever I could escape from a patient governess, whose eyes early became sad because of the difficulties of her task, I was either riding a black pony of wicked temper, or was to be found in a lovely garden with tall Arborvitæ hedges and Box-edged walks, in the company of an old gardener, one of my very best friends, who for twenty years ruled master and mistress, as well as garden and graperies. Under this old gardener, I learned, even as a child, to bud Roses and fruit trees, and watched the transplanting of seedlings and making of slips; watched, too, the trimming of grape-vines, fruit trees and shrubs; so that while still very young I knew more than many an older person of practical garden work. Then, as I grew older, the interests of a gay girl, and, later, the claims of early married life and the care of two fat and fascinating babies, absorbed my time and thoughts to the exclusion of the garden. But as the babies grew into a big boy and girl, the garden came to the front again, and, for more than a dozen years now, it has been my joy,—joy in summer when watching the growth and bloom, and joy in winter when planning for the spring and summer’s work. There is pleasure even in making lists, reading catalogues of plants and seeds, and wondering whether this year my flowers will be like the pictured ones, and always, in imagination, seeing how the sleeping plants will look when robed in fullest beauty.

HARDY GARDENING AND THE
PREPARATION OF THE SOIL

CHAPTER II

HARDY GARDENING AND THE PREPARATION
OF THE SOIL

It has not been all success. I have had to learn the soil and the location best suited to each plant; to know when each bloomed and which lived best together. Mine is a garden of bulbs, annuals, biennials and hardy perennials; in addition to which there are Cannas, Dahlias and Gladioli, whose roots can be stored, through the winter, in a cellar. All the rest of the garden goes gently to sleep in the autumn, is well covered up about Thanksgiving time, and slumbers quietly through the winter; until, with the first spring rains and sunny days, the plants seem fairly to bound into life again, and the never-ceasing miracle of nature is repeated before our wondering eyes.

I have no glass on my place, not even a cold-frame or hot-bed. Everything is raised in the open ground, except the few bedding plants mentioned whose roots are stored through the winter. Therefore, mine can truly be called a hardy garden, and is the only one I know at all approaching it in size and quantity of flowers raised, where similar conditions exist.

A shady garden walk
May thirty-first

I have observed that, with few exceptions, the least success with hardy perennials is found in the gardens of those of my friends whose gardeners are supposed to be the best, because paid the most. These men will grow wonderful Roses, Orchids, Carnations, Grapes, etc., under glass, and will often have fine displays of Rhododendrons. But to most of them the perennial or biennial plant, the old friend blossoming in the same place year after year, is an object unworthy of cultivation. Their souls rejoice in the bedding-out plant, which must be yearly renewed, and which is beautiful for so short a time, dying with the early frost, I was astounded last summer on visiting several fine places, where the gardeners were considered masters of their art, to see the poor planting of perennials and annuals. I recall particularly two Italian gardens, perfectly laid out by landscape gardeners, but which amounted to nothing because the planting was insufficient,—here a Phlox, there a Lily, then a Rose, with perhaps a Larkspur or a Marigold, all rigidly set out in single plants far apart, with nothing in masses, and no colour effects.

To attain success in growth, as well as in effect, plants must be so closely set that when they are developed no ground is to be seen. If so placed, their foliage shades the earth, and moisture is retained. In a border planted in this way, individual plants are far finer than those which, when grown, are six inches or a foot apart.

First of all in gardening, comes the preparation of the soil. Give the plants the food they need and plenty of water, and the blessed sunlight will do the rest. It is wonderful what can be done with a small space, and how from April to November there can always be a mass of bloom. I knew of one woman’s garden, in a small country town,—house and ground only covering a lot hardly fifty by one hundred feet,—where, with the help of a man to work for her one day in the week and perhaps for a week each spring and fall, she raises immense quantities of flowers, both perennials and annuals. For six months of the year she has always a dozen vases full in the house, and plenty to give away. More than half the time her little garden supplies flowers for the church, while others in the same village owning large places and employing several men “have really no flowers.”

I remember returning once from a two weeks’ trip, to find that my entire crop of Asters had been destroyed by a beetle. It was a horrid black creature about an inch long, which appeared in swarms, devoured all the plants and then disappeared, touching nothing else. Such a thing had never before happened in my garden. One of the men had sprayed them with both slug-shot and kerosene emulsion to no effect,—and so no Asters. My friend with the little garden heard me bemoaning my loss, and the next day sent me, over the five intervening miles, a hamper—almost a small clothes-basket—full of the beautiful things. It quite took my breath away. I wondered how she could do it, and thought she must have given me every one she had. Yet, upon driving over in hot haste to pour out thanks and regrets, lo! there were Asters all a-blow in such quantities in her garden that it seemed as if none had been gathered.

Except by the sea-coast, our dry summers, with burning sun and, in many places, frequent absence of dew, are terribly hard on a garden; but with deep, rich soil, and plenty of water and proper care, it will yield an almost tropical growth. Therefore, whenever a bed or border is to be made, make it right. Unless one is willing to take the trouble properly to prepare the ground, there is no use in expecting success in gardening. I have but one rule: stake out the bed, and then dig out the entire space two feet in depth. Often stones will be found requiring the strength and labor of several men, with crowbars and levers, to remove them; often there will be rocks that require blasting. Stones and earth being all removed, put a foot of well-rotted manure in the bottom; then fill up with alternate layers, about four inches each, of the top soil, taken out of the first foot dug up, and of manure. Fill the bed or border very full, as it will sink with the disintegration of the manure. Finish off the top with three inches of soil. Then it is ready for planting. If the natural soil is stiff or clayey, put it in a heap and mix with one-fourth sand, to lighten it, before returning to the bed. Thus prepared, it will retain moisture, and not pack and become hard.

Asters blooming in a border
September fifteenth

LAYING OUT A GARDEN AND
BORDERS AROUND THE HOUSE

A clump of Valerian
June sixth

CHAPTER III

LAYING OUT A GARDEN AND BORDERS AROUND
THE HOUSE

Perplexities assail a would-be gardener on every side, from the day it is decided to start a garden. The most attractive books on the subject are English; and yet, beyond the suggestions for planting, and the designs given in the illustrations, not much help is to be derived in this latitude from following their directions. In England the climate, which is without great extremes of heat and cold, and the frequent rains, with the soft moist atmosphere, not only enable the English gardener to accomplish what would be impossible for us, but permit him to grow certain flowers out of doors that here must be housed in the winter. Daffodils and Narcissi bloom in England, near the coast, at the end of February and early in March,—Lilies-of-the-Valley in March. Many Roses live out of doors that would perish here during our winters. Gardening operations are begun there much earlier than in this part, at least, of the United States, and many of the methods for culture differ from those employed here. In England there is excess of moisture; therefore, care in securing good drainage is essential, while here, except in low places near streams, special provision for drainage is rarely necessary. It is more important to have a deep, rich preparation of the soil, so that plants may not be dried out. A serious part of the gardener’s work during the average summer consists in judicious watering of the garden.

One writer will say that this or that plant should have sun, another that it does best in the shade. One advocates a rich soil, another a light sandy soil; so that after all, in gardening, as in all else in life, experience is the best teacher, either your own or that of others who have already been successful under similar conditions.

A garden is almost sure to be gradually increased in size, and its capacity limited only by the grounds of the owner and his pocket-book. The possibilities and capabilities of a couple of acres are great, and will give the owner unlimited pleasure and occupation.

Individuality is one of the most marked of American characteristics; hence, in making a place, whether it is big or little, the tastes and individuality of the owner will generally direct his efforts, and no hard and fast rules can be given.

In starting a garden, the first question, of course, is where to plant. If you are a beginner in the art, and the place is new and large, go to a good landscape gardener and let him give advice and make you a plan. But don’t follow it; at least not at once, nor all at one time. Live there for a while, until you yourself begin to feel what you want, and where you want it. See all the gardens and places you can, and then, when you know what you want, or think you do, start in.

The relation of house to grounds must always be borne in mind, and simplicity in grounds should correspond with that of the house. A craze for Italian gardens is seizing upon people generally, regardless of the architecture of their houses. To my mind, an Italian garden, with its balustrades, terraces, fountains and statues, is as inappropriate for surrounding a colonial or an ordinary country house as would be a Louis XV drawing-room in a farm-house.

Rhododendron maximum and Ferns along north side of house, with Ampelopsis Veitchii
July fourth

What is beautiful in one place becomes incongruous and ridiculous in another. Not long ago, a woman making an afternoon visit asked me to show her the gardens. Daintily balancing herself upon slippers with the highest possible heels, clad in a costume appropriate only for a fête at Newport, she strolled about. She thought it all “quite lovely” and “really, very nice,” but, at least ten times, while making the tour, wondered “Why in the world don’t you have an Italian garden?” No explanation of the lack of taste that such a garden would indicate in connection with the house, had any effect. The simple, formal gardens of a hundred years ago, with Box-edged paths, borders and regular Box-edged beds, are always beautiful, never become tiresome, and have the additional merit of being appropriate either to the fine country-place or the simple cottage.

Plan for a Small Plot

For a small plot of ground, like the one before mentioned, the plan of which is on page [24], the matter is simple, because of the natural limitations. I love to see a house bedded, as it were, in flowers. This is particularly suitable for the usual American country house, colonial in style, or low and rambling. Make a bed perhaps four feet wide along three sides of the house,—south, east and west. Close against the house plant the vines. Every one has an individual taste in vines,—more so, perhaps, than in any other ornamental growth. If the house be of stone, and the climate not too severe, nothing is more beautiful than the English Ivy. It flourishes as far north as Princeton, New Jersey. I have never grown it, fearing it would be winter-killed.

Ampelopsis Veitchii, sometimes called Boston Ivy, grows rapidly, clinging closely to the wall and turning a dark red in the autumn, and is most satisfactory.

The Virginia Creeper, and the Trumpet Creeper, with its scarlet flowers, are both beautiful, perfectly hardy, and of rapid growth. All of these vines cling to stone and wood, and, beyond a little help for the first two or three feet, need not be fastened to the house. Care must be taken to prevent the vines growing too thickly to admit sun and air to the house.

If the house be of wood, the question of repainting must be considered. Both the White and the Purple Wistaria, which can be twined about heavy wire and fastened at the eaves, Rambler Roses and Honeysuckles may be grown. They can be laid down, to permit painting. But, if the house be of wood and well covered with vines, put off the evil day of painting until it can be deferred no longer, and then have it done early in November. Never, never permit it to be done in the spring, or before November, unless you would take the risk of killing the vines or of losing at least a season’s growth. The house surrounded by my gardens is colonial, something over a hundred and fifty years old, stern and very simple. Tall locusts, towering above the roof, and vines that cover it from ground to eaves, have taken away its otherwise puritanical and somewhat uncompromising aspect. These vines are mostly the ordinary Virginia Creeper, which I had dug from the woods and planted when the first fat baby was two months old. Now their main trunks are, in places, as large as my arm. They have never been laid down. Whenever the house has been repainted, I have been constantly by, and admonished the men to gently lift the heavy branches while painting under them, and not to paint the light tendrils. When the master-painter has remonstrated, that it was not a “good job” and took three times as long as if the vines were laid down, my reply has been, that “three times” was nothing in comparison with the years it had taken to grow them, and that stunting or killing the vines could never be a “good job.”

Arch over rose-walk, covered with Golden Honeysuckle and Clematis paniculata
September fifteenth

Among the creepers are the Crimson Rambler Rose and the Honeysuckle. In three years the Roses have grown above the second-story windows.

Clematis paniculata, with its delicate foliage and mass of starry bloom in early autumn, is particularly good to plant by veranda posts in connection with other vines. It grows luxuriantly and is absolutely hardy. The large white-flowered Henryi and purple-flowered Jackmani Clematis, though of slow growth, should always have a place, either about a veranda, a summer-house or a trellis, for the sake of their beautiful flowers.

While waiting for the hardy vines to make their first year’s growth, the seeds of the Japanese Morning-Glory, the Japanese Moonflower and Cobœa scandens may be planted. All of these will grow at least ten feet in a summer, and cover the bare places. But I would not advise sowing them among the hardy vines, except the first summer. In their luxuriance they may suffocate the Roses and Clematis. The seeds of the Moonflower must be soaked in hot water, and left over night, before sowing. So much for the vines about a house.

In front of the vines, and on the south side in the same bed, plant masses of Hollyhocks, from eight to twelve in a bunch, and Rudbeckia in bunches of not more than five, as they grow so large. Hollyhocks and Rudbeckias plant two feet apart; they will grow to a solid mass. In front of these, again, put a clump of Phloxes, seven in a bunch, and Larkspur, Delphinium formosum being the best. On either side of the Delphinium have clumps of about a dozen Lilium candidum, which bloom at the same time. Edge the border with Sweet Williams, three kinds only,—white, pink and dark scarlet.

I should not advise making all the borders around a house alike. The easterly one will be most lovely if planted with tall ferns or brakes, taken from near some stream in early April, before they begin to grow. These will become about four feet high if you get good roots and keep them wet. Plant in among them everywhere Auratum Lilies, and you will have a border that will fill your heart with joy. On the north side of the house it is not possible to have much success with vines, as they need the sun. They will grow, but not with great luxuriance. Here plant two rows of the common Rhododendron maximum, which grows in our woods. I crave pardon for calling it “common,” since none that grows is more beautiful.

In front of these plant ferns of all kinds from the woods, and edge the border with Columbines. If these Rhododendrons do not grow in your vicinity, they can be ordered from a florist. In the hills, about five miles from us, acres of them grow wild, and twice a year I send my men with wagons to dig them up. They stand transplanting perfectly if care is taken to get all the roots, which is not difficult, as they do not grow deep. Keep them quite wet for a week after planting, and never let them get very dry. A good plan is to mulch them in early June to the depth of six inches or more with the clippings of the lawn grass, or with old manure. When once well rooted, the Rhododendrons will last a lifetime. They seem to bear transplanting at any season. Some think they do best if taken when in full bloom. I have always done this in April or late October, and, of a wagon-load transplanted last October, all have lived. Many of these were like trees, quite eight feet tall and too large to be satisfactory about the house, so they were set among the evergreens in a shrubbery.

Rhododendron maximum under a Cherry tree
July fourth

In cold localities, where the thermometer in winter falls below zero, Rhododendrons should be mulched with stable litter or leaves to the depth of one foot, after the ground has frozen. They should also have some protection from the winter sun, which can be easily given them by setting evergreen boughs of any kind into the ground here and there among them. Rhododendrons are as likely to be killed by alternate freezing and thawing of the ground in winter as by summer drought.

The lovely Azalea mollis, and many beautiful varieties of imported Rhododendrons, are usually described as “hardy,” but I cannot recommend them to those who live where the winters are severe. In such places their growth is very slow, and many perish.

Maidenhair, the most beautiful of the hardy ferns, is to be found in quantities in many of our woods, particularly those covering hillsides. Their favorite spot is along the edges of mountain brooks. I know such a hillside, where Maidenhair Ferns are superb. But nothing would induce me to venture there again, since I have been told it was infested with rattlesnakes, and that the woodchoppers kill a number of them every year. This fact, too, gives me scruples about sending the men to dig them up, although it is an awful temptation.

All ferns should be transplanted late in the autumn, or very early in the spring before the fronds are started, as they are very easily broken. This is particularly the case with ferns from wet places. When planted on the east or north side of a house, the tall ones at the back, and Maidenhair and other low varieties in front, they make a beautiful bank of cool green. They must be kept moist, however, to be successful, and in dry weather require a daily soaking.

Vase of Delphinium (Perennial Larkspur)
June twenty-first

The Cardinal Flower, whose natural haunt is along the banks of streams, and whose spikes are of the most beautiful red, can also be safely transplanted, and will bloom in deep, rich soil equally well in shade or sun and will be very effective among the Ferns. About the end of November, after cutting the dead stalks, cover each plant with a piece of sod, laid grass-side down. Remove this the first of April, and the little sprouts will soon appear above the ground. Cardinal Flowers bloom for nearly a month—during the last two weeks of August and first two weeks of September.

HOW TO PLANT A SMALL PLOT

CHAPTER IV

HOW TO PLANT A SMALL PLOT

I am frequently surprised to hear people say, “Oh, a flower garden is very nice, but such a trouble!” I have heard this expression several times from friends who employ a number of men and have large places with extensive lawns, shrubberies and vegetable gardens, but without flowers, except, perhaps, a few annuals growing among the vegetables.

Yet no one is indifferent to the beauty of garden, or unobservant of the improvement which even a few flowers can make around the humblest cottage. Think of the pretty thatched cottages one sees everywhere in England and France, covered to the eaves with Roses and Clematis, and surrounded by flowers growing wherever they can find root in the tiny gardens. Yet all this is the result of only a half hour’s daily care after the long day’s work is done.

One should begin with a few plants—perhaps a dozen only—and the “trouble” will soon become a delight, unless one is devoid of all love for flowers.

Vase of Peonies
June sixth

Whenever I hear remarks on the “trouble” of a flower garden, I think of those peasant homes, and also of a little plot grown and cared for by a certain tenant farmer’s wife I know. She has six children, and must cook and bake and clean for four men in addition; yet, some time every day, she finds a few minutes to tend her flowers. She has a border along the fence four by fifty feet, filled with perennials; a border across the front of her house with Phlox and Funkias, and a couple of beds with Asters, Poppies, Balsams, Portulaca and Pinks. The perennials were given her, a few at a time. She separated the roots, saved the seeds to raise others, and has been able in this way to increase her borders. The seeds of the few annuals she buys do not cost more than a dollar a year. Thus, for a trifling expenditure and a short time every day, this woman makes her humble surroundings beautiful, while her soul finds an object upon which to expend its love of beauty, and her thoughts have a respite from the daily cares of life.

Many people have the mistaken idea that a flower garden, however small, is an expensive luxury, and are so convinced of this, that they never venture any attempt at gardening, and pass their lives knowing nothing of its pleasures.

Let us suppose some one is starting a suburban home in a simple way, and see how flowers can be had for many months at small cost. If one has a place in a town or village, the plot of ground not over fifty by two hundred feet, still the possibilities are great, and the owner can easily gather flowers for herself and her friends from April until mid-November. A house or cottage on such a piece of ground generally stands back from twenty to fifty feet, with a gravel or flagged walk running to the street. If the owner be a beginner in gardening and expects to do most of the work herself, let her commence with a few plants in a small space. As the plants thrive and become beautiful, the care of them will give an added pleasure to life, and, little by little, the beds and borders can be increased.

In beginning to plant a small plot, the most natural place first is a border, say two feet wide, on either side of the walk leading from the house to the street. Have these borders dug out and made properly. Then, if the owner wishes to see them continually abloom, bulbs must be planted, to give the early spring flowers. Tulips can be had for eighty cents a hundred, Narcissus Poeticus for sixty-five cents a hundred, and Yellow Daffodils for one dollar and twenty-five cents a hundred. Hyacinths are more expensive, and cost from four dollars a hundred up. If a hundred each of the Tulips, Narcissi, Hyacinths and Daffodils were planted they would make the borders lovely from early in April until late in May. The Daffodils will bloom first, then the Hyacinths, followed by the Narcissi, and the Tulips last, if care is taken to buy a late variety.

There should certainly be three or four Peonies in the borders,—pink, white, and dark red; good roots of these can be had for about thirty-five cents each. Once planted, they should not be disturbed for years; and, although the first season they may not yield more than two or three blossoms, in each succeeding year the flowers will increase in number. A friend told me, not long ago, that she had counted sixty blossoms upon each of several of her plants.

There should also be at least a dozen Columbines (Aquilegias) to bloom the end of May and the first of June. The roots of these can be bought for a dollar and a half a dozen, or they can be raised from seed; in the latter case, however, they would not bloom until the second year, being perennials.

No border can be complete without Delphiniums (Larkspur). Good-sized roots of the Delphinium formosum, lovely dark blue, are a dollar and twenty-five cents a dozen. Formosum Cœlistina, the light blue variety, is two dollars and a half a dozen. Then, of course, there must be other perennials,—Phlox, at least a dozen plants in the different colours, which will cost a dollar and a half.

A few Lilies will add greatly to the beauty of the borders. Tiger Lilies, which are only sixty cents a dozen; Auratums, which can be had from eighty-five cents a dozen up, according to the size of the bulbs; Speciosum rubrum from eighty-five cents a dozen up, and Candidums, or Madonna Lilies, a dollar and a half a dozen. German Iris, a dollar a dozen, and Japanese Iris, at a dollar and a quarter a dozen, should also have a place.

Lilium speciosum rubrum
September fifteenth

Excellent Gladioli can be bought for a dollar and fifty cents a hundred, and these will be most satisfactory if planted in the border about May fifteenth in groups of six to ten.

A dozen Chrysanthemums of the hardiest varieties to be obtained, and costing a dollar and a half a dozen, will, with the other plants mentioned, about fill two borders two feet wide by thirty long. It would also be well to sow the seeds of some Calendulas, Nasturtiums and Asters wherever there may be a vacant place. Or better, perhaps, sow the seeds in boxes in mid-April, and transplant to the border the early part of June. The first cost will be the only expense for these borders, except in the case of the Auratum Lilies, which will die out in about three years, and of the few flower seeds. The only care needed is to keep the borders free from weeds, to stir the soil every week, and to water after sunset in dry weather.

It will be seen, from the following list, that such borders can easily be made and planted at a cost of less than thirty dollars. This can be reduced by omitting the Hyacinths. Directions for planting are given elsewhere.

After a year or two, the owner of the cottage may want to increase the flower garden, and the next place to plant is close about the house. It is to be taken for granted that the house and piazzas have the proper gutters. This is necessary, of course, for the preservation of the house, and without gutters the drip from the eaves would be such that nothing could grow directly against the house.

The bed might be three feet wide and run across the front of the house on either side of the steps. The owner would probably wish to plant vines over the porch or piazza, in case it has not already been done. The best for this purpose are mentioned elsewhere.

Should the house front the south, east or west, nearly everything can be grown; but should it face the north, nothing but Ferns and Rhododendrons would be successful on the front. Dahlias of the Cactus variety, in different colours, could be planted at the back of the bed on one side of the steps. Get good-sized roots, plant them two feet apart. They will grow against the house like a tall hedge. If planted the third week in April quite deep, say eight inches, they will begin to bloom about the sixth of July, and continue to be covered with flowers until killed by frost. In front of the Dahlias, plant white Phlox. In front of the Phlox sow a row of Centaurea or Cornflowers, the Emperor William variety. These should be sown early in April, will begin to bloom by June tenth, and, if they are not allowed to go to seed, will blossom all summer. Sow in front of the Cornflowers, at the same time, a row of white Candytuft, of the Empress variety. This also will bloom continuously if the flowers are cut as soon as they wither. On the other side of the steps, at the back of the bed, plant Rudbeckia (Golden Glow) two feet apart. The roots should be bought and planted, preferably in October, otherwise as soon as the frost is out of the ground in the spring, as they start very early. In front of the Rudbeckias plant Cannas—the Tarrytown, of most vivid scarlet hue, I have found the best and freest-flowering of all. The roots should be planted about May fifteenth.

On the edge of the bed, sow by April fifteenth a row of salmon-pink Zinnias, and when they are well up, thin out to six inches apart. They begin to blossom when very small, and will stand considerable frost. The expense of these beds will be trifling. Rudbeckias of the Golden Glow variety, one dollar a dozen; the Tarrytown Canna, two dollars and a half a dozen; Cactus Dahlias, two dollars a dozen; Phlox, one dollar and a half a dozen. The small quantity of flower seeds required will cost less than a dollar. A man can easily make the beds in three days. Therefore, the cost with manure will be less than fifteen dollars.

After a hard frost has killed the tops, the Dahlias, Cannas and Gladioli should be taken up, the tops cut off, the roots well dried, and then stored in a cellar that does not freeze. The Canna and Dahlia roots will have grown so large that they can be divided and it will be found that there are enough to plant, the following spring, nearly twice the space they occupied before.

It is impossible, if successful with the borders already planned, for the owner not to wish for more garden. She sees the neighbors’ gardens with newly opened eyes; flowers and their treatment become an absorbing topic of conversation, and the exchange of plants a delightful transaction.

Vase of Altheas
September sixteenth

It will be seen that the next places to plant are along the boundary lines of the property. Even if one side only be laid out at a time, a large number of plants will be required. The owner will find great pleasure in raising as many of these herself as possible. To accomplish this, somewhere at the back of the place, a seed-bed should be made, and in April the seeds of perennials and annuals sown. The border must be made by September the twentieth and should be at least four feet wide. Either a hedge can be placed at the back of the border, or tall-growing flowering shrubs, such as white and purple Lilacs (not the Persian), Mock Oranges (Syringa), Deutzia and Roses of Sharon (Althea). These shrubs will grow about equally high, yield an abundance of flowers, the Altheas in August, the others in May or June, and in four or five years will form a complete screen from the neighboring grounds.

In front of the shrubs perennials can be planted, taller ones at the back, lower-growing ones in front, and annuals along the edge. Such a border, if from fifty to a hundred feet in length, will be a garden by itself. The plants will do best if closely set, and every vacant space filled in June with annuals. Weeds then have little chance to grow, and a short time every day will keep such a border in order. The border can be of any width from four to twelve feet, but when more than four feet, the front edge should be made with irregular curves to avoid a stiff appearance.

Shrubs should be set out not later than October tenth, and, as they or the hedge would be at the back of the bed, the planting of them will not interfere with the perennials that have already been transplanted from the seed-bed. Hedges are so much more beautiful than any fence that ever was built that, in towns or villages where cattle are not allowed to run at large, hedges should, wherever possible, be used in place of fences.

To prepare the ground for a hedge, make a trench eighteen inches deep, put a good layer of well-rotted manure in the bottom and fill up with earth. When the hedge is planted give it a good top-dressing of manure, and continue this top-dressing, with a little bone-meal sown on the surface of the ground, every spring.

Planting on the edge of lawn
August second

The best and hardiest evergreen hedge is of Hemlock Spruce. Plants of this can be bought for fifteen dollars a hundred, and should be set eighteen inches apart.

The Privet is a favorite hedge in this country. It keeps green until December, and leafs out early in the spring. It is hardy and of rapid growth. Good plants are six dollars a hundred, and should be planted a foot apart. Catalogues say that if planted in rich soil one foot apart, a hedge five feet high can be grown in three seasons. Common Privet is more hardy than California Privet. Hydrangea paniculata grandiflora makes a beautiful low-growing hedge; good plants can be bought for six dollars a hundred. Berberis Thunbergii, or Barberry, makes a fine hedge, on account of its beautiful foliage and scarlet fruit. It is, however, slow-growing.

The owner of a small place should avoid the temptation to scatter flower beds about the lawn. Keep all the planting along the edges of the property and around the house, and leave the lawn unbroken by flower beds. The years when gardening consisted only of beds of Coleus, Geraniums, Verbenas and bedding plants have passed away, like the black walnut period of furniture. And even as the mahogany of our grandfathers is now brought forth from garrets and unused rooms, and antiquity shops and farm-houses are searched for the good old-time furniture, so we are learning to take the old gardens for our models, and the old-fashioned flowers to fill our borders.

The nurseryman of to-day has greatly improved the size and colour of the old varieties of perennials, so that they are far more beautiful than formerly, and offer a much greater choice. By skilful hybridization a hundred or more kinds of Phlox have been developed. In the same way, numerous varieties of Delphiniums, Iris, Peonies, Columbines, Canterbury Bells and Foxgloves have been produced. The old-fashioned annuals also appear in many new forms. In addition to the pink and white “Painted Lady,” the pure white and the dark purple Sweet Peas of our mothers’ time, we may now cultivate some eighty varieties of this delicate flower. Thus the garden of hardy perennials, annuals and bulbs will give us a continual sequence of flowers in every form and colour from April until November, if properly made and tended.

Asters in rows for picking
August twenty-fifth

THE SEED-BED

CHAPTER V

THE SEED-BED

The possessor of a garden, large or small, should have a seed-bed, where seeds of perennials and some of the annuals can be sown and grown until large enough to be permanently placed. Not only will this bed give great pleasure in enabling one to watch the plants from the time the first tiny leaf appears, but also when laden with blossoms in fullest beauty. The knowledge that you have raised them gives a thrill of pride in the result which no bought plants, however beautiful, can impart. It is not necessary to prepare the seed-bed over a foot in depth, but the soil must be very light and fine, as well as rich. It is best, if possible, to have a portion of the bed somewhat shaded from the sun for a part of the day. If this combination cannot be had in one bed, there should be a second for plants that want less sun. Biennials must, of course, be sown every year, as they bloom but once, then die.

Every year some perennials will disappear, killed by severe winters, by pests of one kind or another, or dying without apparent cause. To keep up the supply, therefore, some of each variety should be raised every year.

Foxgloves and Sweet Williams, if allowed to go to seed, will sow themselves and increase rapidly. The same with Hollyhocks, but, except on the edges of shrubberies and in wild borders, it is better to cut the stalk just before the seed is ready to fall, and save it to sow in the seed-bed.

Foxgloves—seedlings ready for final transplanting
September twenty-ninth

In my garden, some seventy miles from New York, and where the spring opens ten days later, I sow my seeds,—the perennials about the tenth of April and the annuals from April twentieth to May first. Buy the seeds, if the garden is large, by the ounce or half-ounce; if small, in the seedsman’s packets. I always have the seeds of perennials soaked for twenty-four hours before planting, and find that by so doing they are very sure to germinate. Care must be taken, when soaking a number of different kinds at the same time, to place the name of each variety of seed under the glass or bowl containing the same. When ready for planting, pour off the water and mix the wet seeds carefully with very dry earth, in a cigar-box, which is of the right size and easy to handle. Then sow, not too deeply, in rows about a foot apart in the bed, covering very lightly, according to size. One-half inch is enough for the large seeds. The very fine varieties should simply have the earth sprinkled on them. If planted too deep they will never come up. Seeds of annuals do not require soaking.

Pat the earth down firmly with the back of the trowel, sprinkle with a fine sprinkler late every afternoon, and it is not your fault if you do not have hundreds and thousands of young plants to make your own place beautiful and to give to your friends. It is a keen delight, when a friend says that she has not raised such and such plants this year, to run and get your trowel and dig a bunch of this and that from the rows of sturdy little plants. It is a pleasure to know that a bit of your garden has gone to help make another’s beautiful.

One of the greatest pleasures of a garden is in giving flowers and plants to your friends. Every October, when arranging the borders and separating plants, I send away great boxes of them, some to fortunate friends with lovely gardens, but without the same varieties; some to humble cottage gardens, and others to friends who have never grown a flower, but would like to try. This year, having made a large new garden, I was able to give away to friends and neighbors only about seven hundred plants, not seedlings but large plants and roots. Generally I can send away far more. Think what a delight this is!

A request for some plants came to me last autumn from the baggage-master of a railroad station some twenty miles from us, who, by the boxes of shrubs and plants that came to me, inferred that I might have some to spare. I learned that all this man’s spare time was spent in his little garden plot, so great was his love of flowers. I know, too, a village expressman (another whom nature intended for a gardener), whose little plot of ground is always a mass of beauty. He has a surprising variety of plants, and every one is a fine specimen of its kind. His Anemone Japonica alba are the finest I have ever seen, each one sending up perhaps a dozen slender stalks of the beautiful flowers. I have had great difficulty with this plant and have lost dozens of them. I always drive very slowly by the expressman’s garden, burning with envy and wondering how he does it. In fact, it was only last year that I had my first success with these obdurate plants. They must grow under trees whose branches are sufficiently high to admit the sun half the day. As they bloom in September and October, the tree protects them from the frost, and in winter they should be well covered with stable litter. They are among the few plants to be set out in the spring, for if not well established they are always winter-killed.

It is well not to empty the perennial seed-bed entirely in the autumn, but to leave a few plants of each variety to transplant in the spring, to take the place of those which have not survived the winter. When the bed is empty, in the spring, have a good coating of manure spaded in and proceed again with the sowing.

Biennials, and also most perennials, must be raised every year to keep up the supply.

Long grass walk, with Narcissus Poeticus blooming in the border
April twenty-sixth

PLANTING

Long grass walk, with Peonies in the border
June sixth

CHAPTER VI

PLANTING

I cannot impress too strongly upon my readers the importance of ordering their plants and seeds of well-known firms. The best are always the cheapest in the end. Inquiry among friends will generally give the best information as to reliable seedsmen and growers. In ordering shrubs and plants it is important to specify the precise date of delivery, that you may know in advance the day of arrival. The beds or borders should be prepared in advance, so that everything may be set out without delay. Care must be taken that the roots are not exposed to the air and allowed to become dry. It is a good plan, when unpacking a box of plants, to sort them, laying each variety in a pile by itself, covering the roots with the moss and excelsior in which they were packed, and then, if at all dry, to sprinkle thoroughly. Unpacking should, if possible, be done under cover—in the cellar if there be no other place.

Great care must also be taken in setting out plants that ample room be given; as the roots should be well spread out and never doubled up. Do not be afraid of having the hole too big; see that the earth is finely pulverized and well packed about the roots; that the plant is thoroughly soaked, and, if the weather is dry, kept watered for a couple of weeks. If the plants have arrived in good condition and are carefully set out, but few should die. I have never lost a deciduous tree, and frequently, in setting out a hundred shrubs at one time, all have lived.

Long grass walk, with Foxgloves blossoming in the border
June thirteenth

Wherever there is a fence make a border, wide or narrow according to your space; if wide,—and it may be as much as twelve feet wide,—always make the edge irregular, never straight. Some prefer a hedge at the back of the border. The best effect and quickest screen is made by planting, against the fence at the back of the border, White Lilacs (not the Persian), Syringas, Deutzias and the beautiful new Altheas. Plant these shrubs three feet apart. In good soil they will send up great canes, and in four years time should be six feet high and shut you in from all prying gaze.

In planting a border, always keep in mind the fact that it should be blooming from May to November. Put in the plants according to height, the tallest, of course, at the back and the lowest in front, filling the front also with spring-flowering bulbs, Daffodils, Tulips and Narcissi, which will blossom and be over before the plants come on. You will thus have the longest succession of bloom. If the border is quite wide—from four to six feet—and perhaps one hundred and fifty feet long, it will hold a surprising number of plants.

Certain plants, in a long border with a background of shrubs, look best in rows, in spite of all that has been written against it: For instance, Hollyhocks, a long row of plants three deep, broken every ten feet or so by a clump of a dozen, and in front of these a single row of Rudbeckias, broken with clumps of six or so, and the rest of the border planted in masses, more or less according to space, of Phloxes, Larkspur, Lilies, Columbines, Sweet Williams, with every now and then a good clump of Chrysanthemums to blossom when all other flowers are gone.

In filling a border along a rather short path, the plants should always be set in clumps of from six to twelve of a kind. If the border is narrow and has no shrubs or hedge back of it, the effect will be better if the plants do not exceed three feet in height. Omit from such a border Hollyhocks, Rudbeckias, Sunflowers and Cosmos. Sweet Williams, Columbines, Sweet Alyssum, Candytuft, Nasturtiums and Phlox Drummondii can all be grown as edging for borders.

I have a border, two and a half feet wide and three hundred and fifty feet long, that is a mass of bloom from the middle of May until the last of September.

It may give the reader a suggestion to know its contents. Everything is in rows, the only border in my garden where the planting is done in this way. Along the edge is Narcissus Poeticus; back of Narcissus Poeticus a row of Sweet Williams, pink, white and very dark red; back of the Sweet Williams, Foxgloves; back of the Foxgloves, Peonies and Hydrangea grandiflora planted alternately; and back of these, a row of Hollyhocks. About two feet behind this border, a row of Rudbeckia (Golden Glow) grows like a tall hedge.

When Narcissus Poeticus has finished blooming, the Peonies come on. Before the last Peony has lost its petals, the Sweet Williams (quite two feet high) are in blossom, and the Foxgloves (from three to four feet high) begin to bloom, and last for a month. While these flowers are still lovely, the tall Hollyhocks begin to flower, each plant sending up from three to five stalks. Then, by the time the Hollyhock stalks are cut down, the Hydrangeas, which are trimmed back very severely every autumn, are a mass of white. Meanwhile the Rudbeckias, for quite six weeks, form a yellow background. The illustrations show this row of flowers while the Narcissi, Peonies, Foxgloves, and Hydrangeas are successively in blossom.

Early in June, I transplant into perennial borders, wherever a spot can be found, clumps of Asters, Cosmos and other late annuals, which are beautiful in September and October when most flowers have ceased to bloom.

From September twentieth to October fifteenth is a busy time in the garden. New beds and borders should be made then. The plants in all borders four years old should be lifted, and the beds or borders spaded deeply with plenty of manure, the plants reset, and the young perennials transplanted from the seed-bed into their final places. All perennial plants whose roots are sufficiently large, should now be divided and reset. This fall planting and transplanting should be done at about the time mentioned, for the shrubs and plants must become well rooted before the ground freezes, or they will rarely survive the winter. No matter how rich a bed or border may be, I always have the hole to receive the plant made larger than is necessary, and put a spadeful of manure in the bottom. In transplanting, my man always has a wheelbarrow of this at his side to work from.

If there are bare places in lawns or grass paths, sow grass seed about the twentieth of September, then roll, and the grass will be well rooted before cold weather.

It must be borne in mind that everything possible should be done in the fall. Perennials start early in the spring, and it is a pity, when they are once started, to disturb them. When the frost has finally killed everything, all the dead tops should be cut off at the ground, the dead annuals pulled up, the borders made clean and neat, and, about the last of November, covered with a good layer of stable litter, leaves or straw. I have always found the plants start earlier and do better for this slight protection.

Whenever I tell my inquiring friends of the proper preparation of beds, and the spring top-dressing, and winter covering with manure, there is generally an exclamation of alarm at the quantity used. But much is required to make the garden grow. I call upon the farm for manure when the stable supply is insufficient, and both my farmer-husband and his manager at times look askance. But how can I live unless my garden has what it needs! The farmer-husband looks upon my gardening as a mild species of insanity, and cannot understand why a little garden with a few plants is not enough for any woman. By dint of much showing and explanation through many years, he has acquired a floricultural knowledge which enables him to tell a Rose, Lily, Sunflower and Phlox, and of this knowledge he is proud.

All manure should be drawn out into the garden when the ground is still frozen, in March or earlier, and placed in convenient piles, so that the ground may not be cut up, when soft, by the wagon wheels; and also to facilitate work when the first spring days come, and there are a hundred things to be done. If possible, have a spadeful of well-rotted stable manure stirred into the ground around each shrub and vine in early spring. The result will amply repay you. Save all wood-ashes carefully, under cover, for the garden, and scatter them on the beds and on the grass. Get well-ground fresh bone-meal, and let all plants have only a handful in the spring, and the reward in bloom is great. To have good results from the hardy Chrysanthemums the soil cannot be too rich, and I generally “give them something to eat,” as a boy who helps in the garden calls it, about the fifteenth of June and the fifteenth of August.

Care must be taken, in using bone-meal, not to put on too much, and to keep it away from contact with the rootlets.

ANNUALS

CHAPTER VII

ANNUALS

There are so many annuals that I will write only about the few which are easiest to grow and are most desirable. For me a flower must have merits for decorating the house as well as for making the garden beautiful.

The other day I found an English book on flowers, and at once sat down to read it, expecting enjoyment and profit from every page; but at the end of a few minutes I came upon the following paragraph:

“Particularly to most women one of the chief uses or functions of a garden is to provide flowers to be cut for the decoration of rooms. But I hold that a flower cut from its plant and placed in a vase is as a scalp on the walls of a wigwam.”

And I read no further in that book.

I grow flowers to gather them, both for the house and to give away. We keep about sixty vases full in the house from late May until October, and never allow more than two colours in the same room. I have a yellow room, where only yellow and white flowers, or white and blue, are permitted; a pink room, for white and pink or pink and crimson flowers; and a hall, whose dominant tone is a rich red, where the flowers are red and white.

Some of the annuals, like Mignonette and Poppies, must be sown where they are to grow. Mignonette does best in cool, rather moist soil.

Long grass walk, with Hydrangeas; Rudbeckias in the background
August twenty-fifth

Poppies, and oh! have plenty of them and all kinds. Get the Shirley Poppies, the Giant Double, the fringed kind, and the California with their sunny petals. Sow in great numbers wherever they are wanted, here and there in the borders wherever there is space. If there is no other place, sow them in rows in the vegetable garden. They are splendid in the house, but, alas! fall too quickly.

The Shirley Poppies are almost like fairy flowers, they are so delicate and beautiful. They are the first of the annual Poppies to bloom. Then comes the variety which grows wild in France and Germany,—scarlet, with black blotches at the base of the petals. Last to bloom are the tall, fringed double and single Poppies,—white, pink and scarlet, growing on strong stems three feet high. Poppies must be sown thinly and the earth only sprinkled over the seeds. Sow as early in the spring as the ground can be worked, and thin out to six inches apart when the plants are well up.

Nasturtiums, too, should be planted where they are to grow, also Sweet Alyssum and Candytuft. All of these make good edgings for borders. If not allowed to go to seed they will bloom all summer.

Sunflowers, the Dwarf Double, and the tall Giant Sunflowers, are fine in backgrounds and against fences.

The Following Annuals Should be Sown in the Seed-bed
About April Twentieth to May First

Antirrhinum, or Snapdragon, growing eighteen inches high. If sown in early May they will bloom from August until late autumn. The same is true of the German Ten-weeks Stocks, which have a long period of bloom. The white ones are most lovely.

Asters, all varieties; sow a quantity. They are not only beautiful, but they give an abundance of blossoms in late September and early October, when flowers are beginning to be scarce. I prefer the Giant, Comet, Ostrich Plume and the late-flowering branching kind. Of these last, “Purity” (snow-white) and “Daybreak” (shell-pink) are the best, often bearing thirty flowers on a plant and lasting, in water, five days. A small quantity of wood-ashes stirred into the soil of the Aster bed is a fine fertilizer and destroys insects that attack the roots. Transplant in June to wherever they are to blossom.

A single plant of Asters
September tenth

I have lately learned, that the only way to destroy the black beetle which appears upon the Asters and eats the flowers, is to have them picked off morning and evening and thrown into a pan containing kerosene oil, which kills them.

Cosmos. The early-summer flowering variety of Cosmos will begin to bloom in July, and, if not allowed to go to seed, will be a mass of flowers until killed by frost. In favorable soil Cosmos grows luxuriantly, and resembles a small tree six or eight feet high. This plant should be staked, or it is likely to be blown down. It is very effective when transplanted to the borders, blooming gayly when there is not much else. The pink and crimson varieties are beautiful, but do not compare with the white.

Calendula, growing about a foot high in every shade of yellow from deep orange to pale ivory, is one of the best and most constant blooming of the yellow flowers.

Centaurea, or Cornflower. These come in many colours, but I grow only the tall, ragged, blue variety. If not permitted to go to seed, they will bloom plentifully for several months. On the dinner-table with blue and white china, and in June combined with Syringa, they make a beautiful and unusual decoration.

Marigold, both the double African and the double French. These flowers always give me a pricking of the conscience, for during the summer, when there are plenty of others, I give them the “go by,” but in October turn to them with shame and thankfulness.

Phlox Drummondii grows about six or eight inches high, and comes in many colours. It makes beautiful borders, particularly the white, pink and dark red.

Plumed Celosia, or Cockscomb. The new varieties are very effective.

Poppies growing in rows
July fourteenth

Zinnias. Lately I have grown only two varieties, a vivid scarlet and a salmon-pink. They are not only lovely when growing, but make a beautiful house decoration, as the stems are long and stiff.

Sweet Peas, which no garden can do without. Several books say, plant in autumn, very late. I have twice sown two pounds at this time, carefully following the directions, and not one single Pea came up the following spring. Sweet Peas should be sown in the spring the moment the frost comes out of the ground, so that they may become deeply rooted before dry weather. Make a trench about a foot deep and a foot wide. Have a good layer of manure in the bottom of the trench, over which put a couple of inches of earth, and over this earth put a good layer of wood-ashes, again a sprinkling of earth. Then sow the Peas, and cover them with a couple of inches of earth. As they grow, fill in the trench, and keep on hilling up the plants until the roots are very deep. It is well to mulch them with the clippings of lawn grass. In this way the plants are kept from drying up, and will bloom until October.

Sweet Peas flourish best on a trellis of galvanized wire netting. It should be a permanent trellis, made of cedar posts set three feet deep, so as to be below the frost line and four feet high. To this attach the wire netting. A trench should be made on either side of the netting, so that a double row of Peas may be sown. The quantity sown depends on the length of the trellis; three pounds will sow a double row one hundred and twenty-five feet long. I always sow the different colours separately. It simplifies the task of arranging them, if they can be gathered separately. A bowl of white Sweet Peas and Maidenhair Fern is indeed a “thing of beauty.”

Pansies, every one loves them. They are annuals, but do best if treated as biennials. The most practical hint that I was able to get from “Elizabeth’s German Garden” was where she spoke of carpeting her Rose beds with Pansies. This instantly appealed to me, as I greatly dislike to see the earth in the beds and borders, and in Rose beds it always is to be seen. So I bought an ounce each of white and yellow Pansy seed, sowed it about the tenth of July in the partly shaded end of the seed-bed, and by October first had splendid great plants. I did not allow these to blossom, but picked off the buds, and, after the Rose beds had been given a plentiful top-dressing of manure carefully stirred in with a large trowel, I transplanted my Pansy plants. Of course, they had to be covered over with the Roses the last of November, and often during the winter I wondered whether the dears would be smothered. On the twenty-eighth of March the beds were uncovered, and, imagine it! there were Pansies in bloom. From April tenth until late in August these beds were simply a carpet of white and yellow. I never saw anything like it. It was probably due to the rich soil, perhaps also to the free watering necessary for the Roses. Then, in order that no Pansies should go to seed, my own maid, who is very fond of flowers, undertook each morning to cut off all that were beginning to wither. This required from one to two hours, but certainly prolonged the bloom, and I could never have spared a man so long for just the Pansies. Sow Pansy seed in the seed-bed about the tenth of July, and transplant late in October.

These are some of the more important annuals which no garden should be without. All of them are easy to raise, and blossom abundantly. I do not speak of the many others, but advise trying new flowers every year.

A Bowl of Cosmos
September twenty-ninth

The first week in June is the time to transplant all annuals. Do it, if possible, directly after a rain, always late in the afternoon, and, of course, water well after transplanting. I have a method of my own for the transplanting of seedlings, and by following it the tiny plants never wither or are set back, and in fact do not seem to know that they have been moved. Take a tin box, such as biscuits come in, half fill it with water, then lift into it from the seed-bed about one hundred seedlings at a time. With a sharp-pointed stick make holes in the bed where the little plants are to go, and then put them in. Soak the ground thoroughly after each patch is finished. In this way the tiny rootlets never become dry.

All the beds and borders can be kept free from weeds and in good condition if gone over with a trowel every five days, or once a week, the earth stirred thoroughly, and any weeds that may have grown taken out. It is particularly necessary, for a few weeks in the spring, to keep well ahead of the weeds. I always think of my sins when I weed. They grow apace in the same way and are harder still to get rid of. It seems a pity sometimes not to nurture a pet one, just as it does to destroy a beautiful plant of Wild Mustard, or of Queen Anne’s Lace.

List of Annuals, with Height, Colour and Period of Blooming

Asters, all colours; one to two feet; August to October.

Alyssum, white, dwarf for borders; six inches; blooms all summer if not allowed to go to seed.

Balsam, Camellia-flowered, pale pink, dark red, white; two to three feet; July and August.

Calendula (Pot Marigold), all shades of yellow; mid-July until killed by frost.

Calliopsis (Coreopsis), yellow with red or brown center; two feet; mid-July, until killed by frost.

Candytuft, red, white, purple, Empress variety white the best, fine for edging; six inches; blooms continually if not allowed to go to seed.

Centaurea (Cornflower), all shades of blue; three feet; blooms three months if kept cut.

Cockscomb, crimson and scarlet; two to three feet; August and September.

Cosmos, white, pink, crimson; three to five feet; from the fifteenth of July until killed by frost.

Eschscholtzia, yellow Poppies; one foot; blooms all summer.

Godetia, pink, crimson, white; one foot; blooms all summer.

Marigold, all shades of yellow; one to two and one-half feet; mid-July until killed by frost.

Mignonette, average height one foot; blooms all summer if kept from seeding.

Nasturtiums, all shades of yellow and red; dwarf, nine inches; climbing, five feet; bloom all summer until killed by frost.

Pansy, many colours; six inches; from early spring until November, if kept well cut.

Petunia, double giant-flowered the only kind to raise; white, crimson and pink; one and one-half feet; bloom all summer.

Phlox Drummondii, many colours; one foot; blooms July, August and September if not allowed to seed.

Poppy, all shades of pink and red, also white; one to three feet. If several varieties are planted can be had in bloom from three to four weeks; end of June and July.

Snapdragon, scarlet and white, white and yellow, pure white; one and one-half feet; July and August.

Stocks (German Ten-Weeks), white, pink, red, purple; one and one-half feet; middle of July until middle of September.