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quiet, unpicturesque meadow village, where the park style seems to fit. In the 

 open country, whether valley or mountain, there is nothing more pleasing to 

 the eye than the brushy roadside, where birches, poplars, sumachs and elders 

 and the rest grow as the Lord lets them, and the walls and fences are clambered 

 over by clematis and woodbine and wild grape; and the daisies and buttercups, 

 hardhacks and vervains, goldenrods, meadowsweets and wild roses in their sev- 

 eral turns make all delightful with color. 



CEMETERY PLANTS. 



Arranging Cemeteries. — Daisy Eyebright, in the Country Gentleman, chats 

 about climbers as follows: 



There are few plants now cultivated which so well reward the care and labor 

 expended on them as vines or climlbing plants, for they will grow with great 

 rapidity, and afford a most grateful shade from the hot noontide suu, while 

 they do not exclude the cooling breezes. Brick, stone, or wooden houses are all 

 made cooler, drier and more beautiful by climbing vines and creepers. The 

 old idea of their producing dampness and mold is exploded, and they are now 

 considered as conducive to health, rather than inimical to it. 



The common practice of fastening climbing plants to the house, porch or 

 piazza, with a bit of tape, oilcloth or the like, and nails, is now superseded by 

 lengths of galvanized wire, which can be stretched across the house and attached 

 to it with small rivets or cast iron "eyes," which should be driven in with a 

 wooden mallet, rather than a hammer. Place the wires about a foot apart, 

 and tie the vines to them, or interlace them through the wires. 



Screens of galvanized wire, arranged in diamonds, can be purchased at the 

 hardware shops, and fitted into staples in the ground, or firmly attached to 

 piazzas or porches. 



The Clematis. — A correspondent of the New York Tribune contributes 

 the following useful hints concerning that incomparable climber — the 

 clematis : 



It is a native of both continents; several species are common in this 

 country, as the Virgins' Bower that ornaments the roadsides throughout the 

 land and whose tangled masses of graceful spray and starry bloom few 

 cultivated plants can surpass. The large-flowered and showy kinds, like the 

 Jackmani, now so much grown, especially in our cities, were produced from 

 varieties brought from Japan — thanks to Messrs. Fortune and Sieboldt. 

 Like other choice things these do not make themselves common, but are 

 propagated by layering the young shoots by root-grafting on strong varieties, 

 or by cuttings of the half-ripened wood. 



In contrast with these I have one sort — C. gravolens — that scatters its 

 seed as freely as does the dandelion, and all the open ground round about it 

 is covered with young plants the next season. In bloom it cannot be com- 

 pared to Jackmani, with its wealth of royal purple; to the white, or the 

 double white, and some other kinds, having only a small; pale yellow flower, 

 but it is very hardy, ambitious of ascent, widely branching in habit, with 



