26 



THE GARDEN MAGAZINE 



February, 1906 



there, and tucked down in a shady corner is 

 the green spleen wort (Asplenium viride). 

 To the casual observer these two are much 

 alike. The former likes the sun, but the 

 latter thrives only in the shade. 



Very unlike any other of its genus is the 

 wall rue {Asplenium ruta-muraria) , the shy 

 cliff dweller with sea-green fronds, which is 

 as much at home in a rockery on the lawn as 

 the walking leaf {Camptosorus rhizophyllus), 

 which fastens its tapering points on every side. 



The pretty little rusty woodsia (W. Ilven- 

 sis) is excellent for rockwork, requiring little 

 soil and thriving best in the sunniest corner. 

 There is no mistaking this, for rusty indeed 

 it is in dry weather, but it freshens up in a 

 shower. The obtuse woodsia {Woodsia ob- 

 tusa) requires more shade. Nearly all of the 

 genus are cultivable. 



The bulbiferous bladder fern {Filix bulbi- 

 fera), graceful and fragile looking, is the first 

 to fling a mantle of green over rock and stone, 

 and, as a natural sequence, the first to pass. 

 The only remedy for this is to break away 

 the old fronds in midsummer. This species 

 reproduces itself in two ways, by spores, and 

 by bulblets located on the under side of the 

 fronds; the latter start to grow so quickly 

 after they fall that the species may become 

 a nuisance, crowding out others equally desir- 

 able. The aftermath, however, is a compen- 

 sation, for a second fragile mantle of green 

 covers the trail of Jack Frost with fresh prom- 

 ise of the coming spring. 



The hairy lip fern {Cheilanthes lanosa), 

 an attractive little Southerner which super- 

 ficially resembles the rusty woodsia {W. Ilven- 

 sis), is one of the very best ferns for the 

 lawn rockery. Growing naturally on the 

 crest of rocks, it accepts trying situations 

 with a better grace than many transplanted 

 Northern species. In my own experience it 

 is perfectly hardy, looking remarkably fresh 

 after the severest Vermont winter on record. 

 A light covering, however, is to be recom- 

 mended for exposed situations. 



The commonest of all rock-loving ferns. The 

 Wall-rue (Asplenium ruia-m.ura.ria.) liKe the two ferns on 

 the preceding page, needs a cranny in the rocks. 

 It grows with a minimum of soil 



No rockery is complete without the hart's 

 tongue {Phyllitis Scolopendrium). It is easily 

 cultivated, but also needs light protection 

 through the winter in northern New England. 



FLOWERS ON THE ROCKS 



It is a profanation of Nature to force ferns 

 to live in the midst of gorgeous geraniums or 

 other cultivated plants blazing with color. 

 But where nature has the selection of the 

 floral accompaniments of ferns, her touch 

 will be light and delicate. Wild flowers are 

 the only permissible adjuncts of the fern 

 rockery, whether as invited guests or as 

 chance comers. Beauty of design is often 

 greater than that of color, hence variety of 

 foliage is often desirable. Orchids of any 

 kind are especially fitting. A trillium here 

 and there, or a jack-in-the-pulpit, may preach 

 the gospel of good effect by contrast. Solo- 

 mon's seal droops gracefully beneath the in- 

 terrupted fern {Osmunda Claytoniana) , and 

 is nearly as interesting in its unfolding and 

 development. The ever present Herb Robert 



spreads itself about and Clintonia borealis 

 carpets space well. This wildling is not as 

 well known as it should be. There is an 

 aristocratic exclusiveness about it which does 

 not appeal to those who wish for something 

 gayer than the graceful umbel of greenish- 

 yellow bells; however, with its orchid-like 

 foliage, it is highly decorative. The wild 

 strawberry gives an ideal finish to our June 

 picture. A mass of the foam flower {Tiarella 

 cordifolia) is especially pleasing. Once estab- 

 lished, it takes the situation in hand and the 

 ferns literally rise out of the spray of bloom 

 in self-defense. But the daintiest concep- 

 tion which Nature has dropped among the 

 ferns is the bishop's cap {Mitella diphylla). 

 This exquisite bit of floral conservatism is in 

 perfect harmony with the "feathery fern, 

 whether it groweth wild and free" or as a 

 willing captive. 



Hepaticas, violets, white and blue, may 

 bloom among the ferns ; even the rock-loving 

 columbine loses none of its loveliness in its 

 adopted home; but the ideal accessories of 

 ferns in the rock garden are harebells. 

 Such strength and delicacy are not elsewhere 

 found in the floral world. Like a rare trait 

 in a rough character, they grace the rugged 

 rocks on which they grow. Just a foothold 

 and a chance to swing and sway as the breezes 

 do, are all that this flower of the air demands. 



Once established, the care of ferns is prac- 

 tically nothing. My ferns are rarely watered, 

 and never with the hose, unless a small stream 

 is turned on and the hose allowed to lie on 

 the ground for the purpose of soaking the 

 roots in extremely dry weather. 



One application of the full spray is as dis- 

 astrous as a tornado. I have had the beauty 

 of many choice ferns spoiled for the season 

 by the veering of the wind which blew the 

 spray from a hose, supposed to be out of 

 reach, upon them. Even the maidenhair, 

 that so-called voucher for the purity of 

 waters near which it grows, turns brown and 

 withers. 



The ferns do not obliterate the rock-forms, which are 

 merely clothed and complemented by the plants 



Keep careful watch that the Lady Fern (Asplenium Filix-foemina) does not oust its companions. 

 It is hardy, aggressive, impertinent, springing up even where it was not planted 



