September 12, 1887. ] 



JOURNAL OF HORTICULTUBE AND COTTAGE GARDENEll. 



197 



There are cases in which the trees blossom very froely, but 

 rarely set more than a thin crop. It will usually be found 

 that this occurs wliero the roots are burieil deeply, which they 

 often are in ilecp loamy uoils. The subsoil in these instances 

 ia often deticiont in moisture, for, however moist their sur- 

 face, loamy soils that have not been properly trenched and 

 rendered [joroiis by an admixture of suitable materials, are 

 seldom moistened throunhoiU by rain or surface-wateiings. It 

 is well in such eases to tlirow the soil up in ridges in autumn 

 as deeply as possible witliout interfering with the roots, the 

 ridges running; parallel with the wall. The subsoil may during 

 the winter become moistened ; but if, upon examination in 

 March, the subsoil is still found dry, the hollows between the 

 ridges should be thoroughly soaked with water and conse- 

 qaently the subsoil (the water as it is absorbed being renewed 

 repeatedly until the subsoil has been thoroughly soaked). To 

 effect this sooner holes may be made with a crowbar, but not 

 deeper than 2 feet, as the roots will follow the direction of the 

 orowbar-holes, and may go deeper into the soil than will be bene- 

 ficial to the trees. 1 he water used at this season may be that 

 from a spring, as it will be liigher in temperature than the at- 

 mosphere or ground, and its use at this early season will be 

 beneficial ; but the water used iu summer should not be taken 

 from a spring but be soft or rain water from an open cistern or 

 pool. When the water has fairly settled from the surface, the 

 ridges may be levelled, and a more healthy growth will follow. 



Trees which are luxuriant and making much wood are not 

 nnfrequently severely attacked by mildesv. This may be par- 

 tially kept under by dusting the mildewed parts with flowers of 

 sulphur ; but the evil proceeds from the root, and to effect a 

 thorough care the trees should be taken up in autumn im- 

 mediately the leaves turn yellow, replanting them after the 

 border has been properly trenched and otherwise duly pre- 

 pared. It is not desirable to remove very old trees but those 

 of ten or twelve years' growth (notwithstanding that they cover 

 the wall), may be removed with perfect safety, due attention 

 being paid to the preservation of the roots and especially of 

 the fibres. 



Of diseases to which the Apricot is subject, one of the most 

 frequent is the limbs dying off, whole branches occasionally 

 perishing without any apparent cause, but upon examination 

 it will be found that there has been on some part of the limb 

 an exudation of gum or a rupture of the sap-vessels, resulting 

 in their entire destruction ; but what this is caused by remains 

 one of the unsolved problems of horticultural science. I believe 

 it to be solely attributable to the influence of the stock, usually 

 that of the Muscle Plum, and I believe a great many stocks 

 are raised from layers and not from the stone, as they in all 

 oases ought to be ; hence we have the trees upon them weak 

 in growth and very liable to gumming, and partially dying. 



A small green caterpillar (Ditula {I'aidisca) angustiorana), 

 does considerable mischief to the foliage by eating holes and 

 twisting the leaves together, to form for itself a home. A good 

 syringing with clear lime water will destroy it. but the best of 

 all means to adopt is to search for the caterpillar iu the even- 

 ing and morning, and pick it off the leaves by hand. It 

 folds itself up in a sort of nest by tying portions of the leaves 

 together when it attains its full size, changing into a brown 

 pupa, from which the moth emerges early iu July. The insect 

 should bo sought for before it becomes developed into a moth 

 and destroyed, for by doing so much subsequent trouble will 

 be saved. — G. Aubey. 



FLAVOUR OF FRUIT. 



I PERFECTLY Coincide with Mr. W. Thomson's opinion, that 

 flavour ought to be the i>rincipul aim in Grapes and in all kinds 

 of fruit. 



From observation 1 think suitable soils must bo the first and 

 chief cause of flavour. Perhaps cither Mr. Thomson or Mr. 

 Bivers would say something on this point. 



Gentlemen of correct taste, who do not exhibit, will no doubt 

 always require a good-flavoured fruit as indispensable. Of 

 course they will require a gardener also to finish off his fruit 

 handsome for table. Sjme years ago Mr. Flemingwas slio.ving 

 me the gardens at Trcntham Hall, of which he had at that 

 time the direction, and he pointed out that all his fruit trees 

 were in brick basins ; for although the natural soil was deep 

 and apparently good, it was not suitable for producing flavour 

 in fruit. 



Another iustanco has come under my observation. I have 



two friends, one in Staffordshire and the other in Worcester- 

 shire. The former keeps a skilful gardener, but all his fruit 

 (.^.pplea, Pti irs, Plums, Damsons, Walnuts, Cob Nuts, and 

 Filberts), are not worth eating as compared with the same 

 sorts grown by my Worcestershire friend, who has no regular 

 gardener; yet the Brassica tribe in Staffordshire are the beat- 

 flavouied I ever ate. Any light thrown on these points would 

 be valuable, as most kinds of fruits might be grown in artificial 



soils. — A FliDlT-EATEIt. 



MASTER AND GARDENER. 



" If a master does not know when he is well served it is fit 

 he did. I shall not stay here. I shall give notice " So said 

 Mark Grantou as he sat down to tea one sultry evening in 

 August. 



" You would not leave in the height of the season, when 

 there is so much to do — so much that would go wrong if you 

 were not here to direct?" said his wife. 



" That would be nothing to mo then. I was engaged at a 

 month's notice, uud I shall give it, and leave." 



" But we have such a comfortable house, and the children 

 are never in the way, and they have grown quite fat, playing in 

 the field there, safe from harm ! " 



" Well, I suppose there are other houses quite as comfort- 

 able as this, and children can play anywhere. I'll tell yon 

 what, Mary, if I have a score lads I will not make one of them 

 a gardener; it is the most thankless work a man devotes him- 

 self to. It is. 'Come here,' and ' Go there ;' 'Do ibis,' and 

 'Do that;' 'Why was this thing done, and the ether thing 

 left undone ?' " 



"You are tired out, Mark, with the heat; it will not look 

 so bad to-morrow." 



"It is generally bad at these big places at this time of the 

 year. The work is aKvays ahead, do the very best one can; a 

 score things wanting doing at once, and it would puzzle a Sir 

 Joseph Paxton's bead to know which to do first. I declare, if 

 a man had half-a-dozen pair of hands instead of one, and 

 worked from sunrise to sun.set, something or other would stare 

 him in the face on the Sunday morning, saying, ' Come, do 

 me.' And the worst is, there is a great deal of labour which 

 makes no show of having been done, and yet it must be done, 

 and that, too, within a given time, or the result is bad." 



" Sumethiug like a woman's work, of little importance in 

 the doing, and yet if it is not done all goes wrong." 



" I do not know about that; but I know there is often little 

 to see for all the labour; and I often feel at night like the 

 luzy man uncle used to tell about, who worked all day under 

 a bracken, and it could not bo found out what he liad done. 

 It makes a difference if you are serving a master who under- 

 stands what you are doing, from having done a little that way 

 himself." 



"And yet I have heard you =ay (In* marv cir'nners do not 

 like going where the owner nnderstands gardening." 



" Neithtr do they as a rule. Ttitrro are rvuai^iiS why they 

 should not, and yet they could have no influence over a man 

 up to his work and willing to do it. For my own part I would 

 rather have a master who knew what I was doing ; for then, 

 though ho might Cud out the easy idle days, ho would also 

 know of the hard ones. And after all, growing flowers, in-doors 

 or out, in this cold, wet, windy, disappointing climate of Engj 

 land, is not play; its ditty is the same as poor Hood's song, 

 ' Work, work.' I wish I had been a nail-maker or a cloth- 

 draver — anything in the world obliged to begin and end at a 

 fixed time. But after this, when 1 change, I will be ' to-a- 

 minute-man.' Why, there is Robert Thorp, up at Clayton, 

 they say he never stops a minute after the lodge clock strikes 

 six. If he is watering, and his can be half empty, he does 

 not staj- to finish, but turns all out at once, and is off." 



" I do not admire him in the least," replied the wife. " He 

 cannot care much for his plants ; has not much pride in them, 

 or he could not do so ; there would be times when they would 

 suffer it he did. And then, too. if he leaves to the minute he 

 mu-t also be there to the minute, or he would be robbing his 

 master." 



•• Ui course he must ; no great hardship in that." 



'■ I do not know. We thought it rather hard when we lived 

 in Manchester, and had to pay 3d. a-week to a knocker-up." 



'Uabit is second nature; wo should soon have learned to 

 cet up at tie right tim^. And as to being fond of plants, 

 where is the nse ? they are not our own, only ours to make 



