750 



THE GARDENERS' CHRONICLE OF AMERICA. 



ing of good stiff cla}' for the first toot over the drains ; 

 second, placing a porous material in direct contact with 

 the tile presents a freer passage for whatever quantities 

 of fine silt advanced to this point — the accumulation of 

 this silt in the drains being very undesirable and not in- 

 frequently very troublesome. The corollary of this prop- 

 osition — the percolation of water down through the top 

 of the drain instead of up through the bottom — is ob- 

 vious. To add a third reason, there is the cost, a large 

 item on any considerable job. The practice does not 

 conserve the dollar. 



Mr. Arnold Bennett deplores the general tendency of 

 mankind to let their mental machinery rust in the parent 

 cranium. If anything I have said this evening will func- 

 tion to stimulate any one of us to devote more serious 

 thought to the "Whys and Wherefores" of our daily 

 task and toil, may it not well excuse the presumption — 

 and all the presumption — my coming before you this 

 evening measures and compasses. 



{Address by Edz^'in Jenkins before North Shore Hor- 

 ticultural Society, Manchester, Mass., December 5. 

 1913.) 



THE CHRYSANTHEMUM. 



By Dr. Fr.\nk Crane. 



After the roses have fallen and their leaves lie a dawn- 

 tinted carpet around the shivering bush ; after the 

 warmth-loving heliotrope and sunflower and petunia have 

 smiled up at their cooling lover, the sun, and died ; after 

 the Herod frost has stabbed all the little summer-inno- 

 cents of the garden, and they have dropped their heads 

 forever, then comes the splendid chrysanthemum, the 

 last flaunting banner of the flower army retreating before 

 the enemy of all life — the cold. 



Its beauty is akin to its season. I'or its colors are not 

 strong and crying, but touched with a pensive shade ; not 

 fresh pinks and hot scarlets, but a pink softened and a 

 red diluted : not the color of the sun, but that of the moon, 

 and of the haze upon morning waters. 



Chrysanthemum colors are as characteristic as nas- 

 turtium colors ; they are of all kinds, yet with a pervad- 

 ing quality. The same sulxlued thoughtfulness runs 

 through all. There are straw colors and cream, sulphur 

 and tarnished gold, saffron and orange and salmon, colors 

 of old rose and violet, magenta, and nut brown, but all 

 steeped in mystery. 



It is the flower of melancholy, notwithstanding its 

 assertive size and splendor. It is the flower that flour- 

 ishes on .All-Souls' Day, the Day of the Dead. 



It is an immigrant, as the people of America are im- 

 migrants. But while they come from Europe, the chr}s- 

 anthemum comes from the Levant. In China long ago 

 Confucius celebrated its "golden glory." It was adopted 

 by the Japanese, who made the little beggar-flower of the 

 roadside to be the gorgeous emblem of chivalry, for 

 princes of the blood only. They stamped its image upon 

 their ancient moneys, upon the seal of the mikado, upon 

 the sabre-hilts of the soldiers of the guard. 



The Japanese have employed the chrysanthemum, to- 

 gether with the cherry blossom, the bamboo, and the 

 nenuphar as the standard figures of their ingenious deco- 

 rative art. 



The chrysanthemum is one of the most striking exam- 

 ples of what man can do with the simple products of 

 nature. The timid, small yellow flower that came to us 

 from overseas has become fantastic, monstrous, fulsome, 



and bold. It has perked up its petals "like quills upon the 

 fretful porcupine," rolled them around like serpents, 

 crimped them as ladies do their hair. Little by little the 

 horticulturists have made a c[ueen ot this Cophetua blos- 

 som. 



There is nothing that so crashes upon one's sense of 

 beauty, that so comes over one's spirit like a blare of 

 trumpets, as a massed display of these royal flowers. 



The chrysanthemum is Summer's swan-song, full of 

 elegiac majesty ; it is the Summer's last caress, sweet as 

 the sweetness of that one more kiss we place upon the 

 lips of the beloved who are about to die. — A'^fiy York 

 Globe. 



SOME FACTS ABOUT CORN GROWING. 



By \\'illi.\m G.\llow.\y. 



There is a lot of difference in the farming method of 

 the man who takes virgin soil and grows from 80 to 125 

 bushels of corn per acre ^nd the man who gets hold of 

 land that will not grow more than 35 to 40 bushels per 

 acre and gradually builds it up to a point where it will 

 [jroduce as much as virgin soil. If it was not for the 

 decayed vegetable matter which accidentally gets into 

 soils, not a pound of fertilizer would be returned to much 

 land that is steadily planted to corn. 



It is here that the vetch plant comes in so nicely to the 

 wise corn grower who wants to keep up his heavy crop 

 year after year. Vetch will grow in any well drained 

 soil : wherever corn can be grown it will thrive. 



Generally stated, every bushel of corn taken from the 

 soil means a pound of nitrogen taken out of the land and 

 about four pounds of potash and three and one-half of 

 phosphorus. 



\'etch sowed between the corn rows at the last plowing 

 of the corn will put into the soil as much or more plant 

 food than the corn crop has taken out of the land ac- 

 cording to the thrift with which it grows. 



The more rank the growth of vetch, the more good it 

 will do in fertilizing the soil. If your vetch seed is well 

 inoculated before sowing and the proper amount of seed 

 per acre (about 30 pounds) is used, your crop of vetch 

 will return as much or more nitrogen to the soil than 

 \ our corn crop has removed. 



Plowing under a heavy growth of vetch is giving the 

 land a good deal more fertilizer per acre than plowing 

 under the best stand of clover you ever saw. For years 

 clover has been considered the greatest of all green ma- 

 nures. 



Try some vetch in your corn field ne.xt year. Be sure 

 that your seed is w'ell inoculated so that it will take hold 

 and grow strong and rank. Without the proper bacteria 

 on the roots of the vetch plant, it might make as poor 

 showing as some seedlings of clover which are uninocu- 

 lated or sown in soils that lack the friendly little germs 

 tliat make for heavv. vigorous growth. 



THIS IS MY WORK. 



Let me but do my work from day to day. 

 In field or forest, at the desk or loom, 

 In roaring market-place, or tranquil room ; 



Let me but find it in my heart to say, 



\\'hen vagrant wishes beckon me astray, 



"This is my work ; my blessing, not my doom : 

 Of all who live, I am the one by whom 



This work can best be done, in the right way." 



— J 'an bvke. 



