1880.] 



AND HORTICULTURIST. 



57 



<;rs. Examples are found in many places, espe-' 

 <;ially on the Pennsylvania Railroad, and the 

 great garden of Mr. Hoey at Long Branch. All 

 these are evidences of increasing civilization. In 

 ■short, one scarcely moves in any direction with- 

 out remarking" increased comfort on the road 

 or at the hotel. Neat and easy chairs meet a 

 great want of the aged and the invalid; increas- 

 ed ventilation of cars; more freedom from dust; 

 iind, let us hope, more civility marks the new 

 ■era. There is something yet to learn, and we 

 may hope that if the attractions of travel unset- 

 tle the lover of a country Aome, with its wealth 

 of (lowers and fruits, we may meet abroad with 

 what gives a charm to life. What, for instance, 

 ■more charming than to alight at a station and 

 find it adorned with magnolias, or the Hydran- 

 gea paniculata, the former early bloomers and 

 ■the latter coming in August and lasting till frost, 

 with its large panicles, white at first and turning 

 to a delicate red as the days go on. Depend up- 

 on it, those railroads that pay a little and not 

 costly attention to these minor details, will find 

 ihoir exchequers tell a good story. This atten- 

 tion to the feelings of sesthetic culture not only 

 gives pleasure to the traveler, but prepares him 

 ■on his return to imitate and try to excel. Is 

 there anything that costs so little as flowers and 

 trees, that makes life so much of a pleasure ? 



A Year in a Lancashire Garden^ by Henry A. 

 Bright, is a gem from the press of Macmillan. 

 It is English, but many of its remarks apply to 

 all garden-loving people. Nowhere is the art of 

 gardening brought to such great perfection as by 

 the English, who are strong in horticulture and 

 ■strong in poetry ; the poet's song adds perfume 

 to the violet and a beauty to the rose. This Mr. 

 Bright thinks is neglected by gardeners in these 

 <iays of "bedding'' stuff, which he hopes may 

 <3isappear before any poet undertakes to cele- 

 brate it in song. He says, "I am heartily weary 

 of the monotony of modern gardens, with their 

 endless pelargoniums, calceolarias and verbenas. 

 Some few such beds I cannot dispense with, but 

 I am always glad when I can reclaim a bed for 

 permanent use." 



EDITORIAL NOTES. 



Editokial Letter. — Now, when the snow is 

 on the ground, I look back on some of the pleas- 

 ant experiences of the past Summer season, 

 when I have met the friends of the Gardener's 



Monthly in many pleasant places; I think over 

 the many interesting experiences, and wonder 

 when I may be permitted to go over the ground 

 again. 



It was one lovely morning in June last, that 

 I emerged from the palace car to the platform 

 to find myself passing the pretty town of New- 

 port, by the Tuscarora Mountains, on the line of 

 the Pennsylvania Railroad. The road-bed bal- 

 lasted with broken stone, was therefore entirely 

 free from dust, and rendered the position a par- 

 ticularly enjoyable one. The sun just peeping 

 over the hills, lent a peculiar brilliancy to the 

 Red Maple leaves, and the little clouds of mist 

 which the sun was still powerless to lift over 

 the mountains tops, floated around into the little 

 hollows above the Juniata and in the mountain 

 sides. Nothing possible could be more beauti- 

 ful than the scenery in this part of the world. 

 As the train winds around the mountain sides, 

 every possible variety of surface comes into 

 view, — now we look up at the trees in the 

 clouds, and now we are attracted to some little 

 meadow scene several hundred feet below. All 

 around, every where, a singularly beautiful style 

 of vegetation abounds. Now we pass immense 

 clumps of the Red-berried Elder, with its rich 

 currant-like fruit mixed with the white flowers 

 of the common or Canadian Elder, which is 

 only just coming into bloom. Then there may 

 be large tracts in which the principal feature is 

 afforded by the Lady Fern, which seems to be 

 particularly abundant in the Alleghany Moun- 

 tains. Then the Rubus odoratus with its showy 

 red flowers thrusts itself, but not uawelcomely 

 on our attention. Spiraea Aruncus, with its 

 white feathery spikes, quite as pretty as the 

 plumes of the pampas grass, abounds ; and what 

 shall we say of the Kalmias, Rhododendrons, 

 and plants of that class ? But I will stop imagi- 

 nation here to express my astonishment at see- 

 ing a magnificent "forest" of Rhododendrons 

 growing in limestone. I should like to have 

 had the man there that started the idea that 

 Rhododendrons will not grow in limestone soil. 

 Well, there was at length Pittsburg and Alle- 

 ghany City, and again had to note how remark- 

 ably well the much abused Ailanthus thrived as 

 a street tree amidst the almost indescribable 

 black smoke of the Iron City. It seemed to be 

 a universal favorite. Indeed there were few of 

 any other tree. We pass through a very beauti- 

 ful park at Alleghany City, with a huge prison 

 in the centre, about which, if I mistake not, the 



