74 



IRISH GARDENING 



compact habii. Several new nu>>sy ^axilVaj^^as were seen, 

 Bathoniensis being- one of the larjjest of this section. 

 The colour is as good as Guiklford's seedling, and 

 about twice the sixe. Androsace priniiiloities, seniper- 

 vivioidcs villosa were flowered \v>'ll. These plants 

 require careful treatment in Ireland, and during winter 

 must be kept from excessive damp and wet frosts. 



So many other choice Alpines were shown that a full 

 report cainiot be given now, as space and time will not 

 permit, but go down to Tully. Kildare, and see Japan in 

 Iri'l.ind in all its beauty. There you can iio into the 

 gariliMi and see its charms, for in real fad one steps 

 out oi' old Iroland and enters new Japan. From the 

 entrance gate all the bright foliage meets the eye. This 

 denotes the birth of man. From the birth we lead along 

 the winding path to the school, then the play-ground. 

 We pass on and leave all the charms of infancy 

 behind us and enter into serious life. Then comes the 

 dark and uncertain days of youth, which is represented 

 by dark caves and swampy lands, and at last the rise 

 on to the dry, firm land. This we must call the 

 business life of man ; there are hills for him to climb, 

 and broken bridges he may fall through, and there is the 

 mountain of his ambition which successful men climb, 

 and then come the retiring da3's when he passes over 

 the bridge into home life, enjoys its comforts, and has 

 a garden of rest, yet, still further, we see those winding 

 footsteps which lead to the final rest. There we see a 

 place of sombre effect, which for now we will call ihe 

 cemetery. 



These are all at Tully. and always open to the public 

 eye. There you can come and see these plants in 

 glorious beauty during the month of June. 



Tl I.LVKNSIS. 



Selecting and Saving Seed. 



To an outsider it has alway.s seemed 

 strang'e that so little seed is saved by 

 the g-ardener, and especially by the 

 amateur. He has his own particular favourites. 

 and frequently he sees new and strangle varieties 

 g-rowing- up among them, yet he must always 

 make his annual visit to the .seedsman. Why 

 not save himself this trouble ? — he would g^ive 

 himself more, of course — and take a step that 

 would bring him far more interest and pleasure 

 in the plants he grows. Why not save seed 

 from his crop, especially if it contains something 

 new? If everybody did this, or if many did it, 

 seedsmen would grumble ; but many will not do 

 it, at any rate not enough to affect the seedsman. 

 Besides, how many new plants may be lost 

 every year while we rely upon the seedsman 

 alone! He is always on the hunt for novelties; 

 but how many are there he never hears of! If 

 a new variety comes into his possession he 

 husbands and saves the seed ; but how many 



new varieties are nc\er gixen ;i chance of lu-ing 

 reproduced I 



Is it a difficult thin- to do? .Not at all. .\t 

 any rate, farmers can do it, and why not 

 gardeners? Let us quote one or two examples, 

 (i rowers oi seed grain make a great to-do these 

 days about what some of them call "pure cul- 

 tures " — samples grown from a single head — and 

 flatter themselves they have discovered a new- 

 method. It is as old as the hills. Well, perhaps, 

 not quite, but it is certainly old Some of our 

 best varieties are descended from single heads 

 that were isolated fifty and a hundred years ago. 



So far as the evidence goes, a farmer in 

 Cumberland saw what seemed an unusually 

 g-ood head of oats growing in a potato field 

 about a hundred and twenty years ago. Usually 

 it would have been treated as a weed and cut 

 down, but this farmer protected and saved it. 

 He sowed the seed and saved the produce, and 

 by continuing to do so for several years he was 

 able to give or sell some to his neighbours. In 

 time his neig^hbours sold to others, and now 

 this oat— the potato oat — is the most widely 

 grown in Britain. Not only so, but other 

 varieties are its descendants although they are 

 known by other names 



There is a farmer who used to grow un- 

 usually good turnips, and would do so still if he 

 were not too old. He seldom got seed from a 

 seedsman. He was a native of a part of the 

 country where, at one time, nearly every farmer 

 g-rew his own turnip seed ; and although he 

 migrated to a distant part, he carried this 

 custom with him. His method was striking, 

 but instructive When his business led him to 

 one of his turnip fields, he did not survey it 

 from the other side of the hedge or from the 

 ends of the drills. He walked right through it. 

 But before doing so, he cut a few twigs from 

 the hedge and clipped them under his arm. 

 Then as he wandered through the turnips he 

 stuck in a twig here and there. The twigs 

 were to mark the good turnips — those that were 

 to be left alone when the rest were pulled — 

 and then transplanted in a corner of his garden 

 or in the corner of some field where they could 

 easily be protected by netting from hares in 

 winter and sparrows in summer 



And if an ordinary farmer can do this kind of 

 thing with a plebeian turnip, why can the amateur 

 gardener not do it with his rare and far more 

 carefully tended aristocrats ? 



