A FEW WORDS TO BEGINNERS. 



501 



inducement to persons of leisure or of for- 

 tune. But it is the indispensable condition 

 of any floriculture among busy mothers, 

 the laborious middle class, the industrious 

 poor; and it is among these that we desire 

 most to see the love and care of flowers 

 spread. 



If there is room for more than these, pre- 

 ference should, next, be given to perennial 

 plants (either herbaceous or woody) — such 

 as Paeonies (white, crimson, pink and yel- 

 low ) — Chrysanthemums or Artemesias 

 which two begin and end the season ; and 

 intermediate are pinks, lilies of the valley, 

 the various irises, violets, yucca, lilies, &c. 

 The next addition should be the hardy 

 bulbs, the Tulip, the Hyacinth, the Crocus, 

 the Gladiolus or sword-lily, the Tiger-flow- 

 er, the Narcissus, the Tuberose, &c. 



Then come the annual plants, to be 

 sown yearly, of which we shall speak at 

 another time. 



We repeat, and with emphasis, do not 

 be tempted, by the beauty and variety of 

 flowers, to cultivate too many. Make it a 

 duty to cultivate whatever you take in hand 

 perfectly; and add nothing until you per- 

 ceive that you can do it justice. We pro- 

 test against floral spendthrifts, floral dissi- 

 pation, and all flower-mongers. Let any 

 one look about him, and he shall see such 

 persons as these : 



1. Ignorant buyers. They will bid off 

 bushels of trash at flower auctions ; they 

 will be entrapped by sounding names in 

 seed-stores, and made wild by pompous 

 catalogues from florists and seedsmen. No- 

 body is so likely to be imposed upon as 

 persons who affect to despise flowers. We 

 have known a man who, laughing at wife 

 and daughter, wiped his mouth of all love 

 of flowers, who, nevertheless, at some un- 

 watchful moment, comes into temptation in 

 some spring sale. Now, says he, I will 

 surprise my wife with a present worth 

 having ! And perhaps he secretly whis- 

 pers to himself, I'll show them that I know 

 something about buying flowers, if I do not 

 about raising them. Once a going, he does 

 buy; buys everything ; buys worn-out roots, 

 cast-away rose bushes, effete bulbs ; dead 

 vinos, four-year old ar.d three-year dead 

 seeds of splendid names. Quite aroused 

 by his luck, he sends for cart and barrow, 



and to his wife's consternation begins to 

 heap his trash into the yard and garden. 

 Now for the sweet surprise. " Why, what 

 is this? " "This? let me look at my me- 

 morandum ; these are assorted Tulips ; and 

 these are Hyacinths, A No. 1, ma'am !" 

 " What on earth do you expect to do with 

 these bulbs at this time of the year ? Why, 

 they ought to have been in the ground last 

 October — they ought to be nearly done 

 blossoming by this time of year; and be- 

 sides, see the musty bottoms — the things 

 are dead and gone long ago ! What did 

 you get them for? how much did you give 

 for them ? " "Never mind, they cost but 

 little — no great affair- — I knew they were 

 not much, but I thought something might 

 come of them." "Well, now, as sure as I 

 am alive, here you've brought a pack of 

 cinnamon roses home, and I have had a 

 man digging half a day to get the pests 

 out of my garden ! Do throw them right 

 into the street. Look here, husband, here's 

 snowballs, and waxberries, and mock-orange 

 flowers, and lilacs ; you did'nt buy this stuff, 

 did you, husband ? Our garden is full of 

 them, and has been this ten years." " Stuff! 

 I tell you it's no such thing. Why, here's 

 what they are (reading from his memoran- 

 dum,) they are the Viburnum opulus, and 

 the Symphoria raccmosa, and the Philadel- 

 phia coronarius, and Syringa vulgaris I" 

 " Pshaw ! you've paid away your money 

 for a pretty parcel of Latin names ! I 

 don't care what you call them, the}* are 

 nothing but our old-fashioned syringas, and 

 lilacs, and snowballs, and waxberries ! " 

 Alas ! out of some thirty dollars' worth of 

 plants, roots and bulbs, the poor wife got 

 half a dozen new plants, that she might 

 have purchased of an honest florist for two 

 dollars! 



2. Who does not know garden beggars? 

 Every spring they begin to feel the garden 

 impulse. Out they run to see what they 

 have left in their beds. A pitiable account 

 their garden gives of their last season's 

 care. Weeds choked out these; the drouth 

 destroyed that ; worms and bugs eat up 

 one thing; dogs and pigs scratched or 

 rooted out another thing; and the winter 

 did the business for pretty much everything 

 else. "Never mind; I know who's got 

 more of them. Mrs. , good soul, she's 



