48 



THE FLORAL WORLD AND GARDEN GUIDE. 



middle of March they begin to 

 bloom. 



The front of the border is then 

 cleared of the small shrubs, and these 

 take their place, and they are changed 

 and changed until the pit is empty, 

 and all are blooir ed out; and that pro- 

 cess carries me nearly to May, when 

 the border is filled with earth again, 

 and planted with some of my great 

 old scarlet geraniums, 'which are 

 trained to the wall, and make a sheet 

 of colour five or six feet high. It was 

 when at its best, with the latest 

 hyacinths and earliest tulips, that I 

 had the sketch made by Mr. Slocombe, 

 and most faithfully has he caught the 

 expression of the scheme, which able 

 artists often fail to do. 



So far, so good ; but we may go 

 farther and fare worse. I got excited 

 about the success of this experiment 

 long before the time came when the 

 trees must go to their quarters for 

 the growing season and be properly 

 planted. I could not let well alone. 

 I first, about the end of January, 

 drew a few of them out and examined 

 their roots ; they were covered with 

 nice white roots, which were pushing 

 in all directions in the fibre; surely 

 of all the materials on the face of the 

 earth, there is nothing like this fibre 

 to persuade roots to grow. I said 

 within myself, " Good ; if it answers 

 one way it must answer another." 

 So I piped all hands, and carefully 

 took up a lot of my best evergreen 

 trees, carried them away from their 

 good places on mounds, lawns, etc., 

 etc., and planted them temporarily 

 m cocoa-nut fibre to make yet more 

 groups, and in anticipation of being 

 able to accomplish things 



" Unattempted yet in prose or rhyme." 



Amongst the many trees thus lifted 

 there were two fine specimens of 

 Abies Khutrow, the graceful ostrich- 

 feather looking pine ; a tine pair of 

 variegated yews, that, had stood for 

 years i n either side of a little rockery ; 

 and my best, my pet, my much-valued 

 Wellingtonia (jigantea, the most per- 

 fect tree of its kind on this side of 

 London, and which had also stood for 

 some years on a mound, where it had 

 struck its roots far and wide, and 



with its graceful branches swept the 

 ground in a complete circle round it. 

 I let a gdden moment pass for replant- 

 ing these. I forget the exact date when 

 I took them back to the places they 

 belonged to, but I know it was far 

 into April, or near May. Had 1 been 

 a month sooner, the trees would have 

 had rain to help them ; but by the 

 time it was done, the great drought 

 hud commenced, and I trembled for 

 them. They were replanted with 

 great care, the boles being covered 

 first with a layer of cocoa-nut fibre, 

 to coax the roots into action, and they 

 were constantly aided with the 

 syringe and the water-pot — the first 

 being of more importance than the 

 second in helping late-planted trees. 

 They all did well, with the exception 

 of three, and it is the recollection of 

 these three that casts a cloud over me 

 as I write this paper. One of the 

 variegated yews never made a single 

 shoot, and did not lose a single leaf. 

 It lived, does live, looks well, is as 

 green as any other yew in the garden, 

 yet all the summer long it never 

 pushed a single bud ; no, not a speck 

 as big as a pin's head of new growth 

 appeared anywhere upon it. One of 

 the Abies Khuiroiv grew superbly, and 

 is now as perfect a picture as ever it 

 was ; the other lost one of its best 

 branches, so that, for the present, its 

 symmetry is marred. But the Wel- 

 lingtonia died outright. It was 

 worth seven guineas when I took it 

 up. and by the end of June it was 

 laid on the top of a heap of tree- 

 prunings, and consumed by the de- 

 vouring element. Thus perished 

 ignominiously one of my choicest 

 pets, and the very tree that I used so 

 ofteu point to and say, " See how the 

 smoky air of Stoke Nenington suits 

 that grandest of conifers." 



Now, if any of our readers had 

 written in the month of January last, 

 and asked if it would be advisable to 

 lift a large Wellingtonia, pack it in 

 cocoa-nut refuse, and plant it again in 

 the middle of April, I should certainly 

 have replied, " If your Wellingtonia 

 is doing well, leave it alone ; if it is 

 for mere whim you intend to lift it, 

 wait a bit, and the whim will vanish. 

 If there is any good reason for 



