THROUGH THE GARDEN GATE 



Titan doth by his presence now revive 

 Things Sensible, as well as vegitive. 



Old Kalendarium Ruslicum 



"A Little Madness in the Spring" 



How difficult it is for us, theThings Sensible 

 of the old couplet, not to take leave of our senses 

 these first spring days, and rush about doing all 

 sorts of inexpedient things in the garden. A 

 divine intimation has reached us and we are afire 

 with zeal and enthusiasm. Every shining, melting 

 day spells the whole of spring for us, and years of 

 bitter experience have not taught us that bluster- 

 ing, ingratiating, willful March smiles only on 

 one side of his face and that, like as not, just when 

 we have turned back the winter blankets from 

 the plants, will loose all the furies upon their de- 

 fenceless heads, and heart-breaking things will 

 ensue. 



Many, many years I was in learning to let these 

 first genial days pass without touching the winter 

 covering, and then to remove it by degrees, not 

 all at once. To take it all off immediately is 

 bad for all the plants, but particularly harmful 

 to such as Geums, Silenes, Canterbury Bells and 

 Foxgloves that keep a tuft of leaves above ground 

 during the winter. These, though they may have 

 weathered a hard winter, will frequently be killed 

 outright by the late spring frosts if the protecting 

 straw or leaves be removed too early. Then, too, 

 we do not wish to encourage such thoughtless, 

 headlong things as Crown Imperials and Lilium 

 Hansoni to come hurtling forth into the frosty 

 air swift to their undoing, and this they will most 

 certainly do if the sun gets but half a chance at 

 the earth above their heads. 



But there are out-door things we may do with 

 entire propriety, to work off this fever of im- 

 patience that possesses us. I always plant 

 Poppy seed in March if it is possible to find a 

 patch of ground dry enough not to cake. March- 

 sown Poppies are always a success; they are grate- 

 ful for the opportunity given them to get their 

 roots deep down into the ground before the arrival 

 of hot suns and drought, and they then give their 

 minds wholly to the fashioning of their lovely 

 finery. I have a theory too, handed on to me 

 many years ago by a famous old lady gardener, 

 that no day is so felicitous for planting Sweet 

 Peas as St. Patrick's day. I do not know if Erin's 

 saint is pleased to have his day thus commem- 

 orated and casts a kindly eye upon the operation, 

 but certainly the result would seem to justify 

 some such notion. 



Of course the frames are being attended to this 

 month and when the annuals are being sown tuck 

 in a row or two of annual Wallflowers, the kind 

 known as Paris Extra Early. I hese will bloom 

 all through the late summer and autumn, right 

 up to Thanksgiving in my New York garden, and 

 nothing is sweeter or prettier for bouquets. 



But perhaps the most entirely delightful oc- 

 cupation for the present is just poking about. I 

 love to take a stick and go about turning back the 

 strawy stuff to see if all is safe, stirring up the 

 Bergamot and Ihyme and Marjoram to give me 

 a sweet greeting, and noting how many sturdy 

 little seedlings there are all green and animated 

 and ready for anything. I hen there are all the 

 little green points coming up everywhere. We 

 know which ones portend Daffodils, which Tulips 



and which Crocuses; and there, in a warm corner, 

 are the narrow dark green blades, quite tall by 

 now, out of whose midst will presently flutter 

 brilliant purple and gold blossoms, violet scented 

 (Iris reticulata). And of course any day in March 

 one's poking may be rewarded by a find of Snow- 

 drops, Scillas, Snow Glories, Winter Aconites, 

 Hepaticas, Horned Pansies, and already there are 

 Ladies' Delights, alert and peering, in every shel- 

 tered corner. 



An Appropriate Peace Tree 



While this beautiful idea of planting Peace 

 Trees is being discussed, I want to say a word in 

 praise of the Tupelo, or Sour Gum (Nyssa syl- 

 vatica), and suggest that some of us choose it 

 to commemorate the great occasion. When well 

 grown it is a beautiful and distinct tree, but the 

 chief reason that it appeals to me for this high 

 use is, that of all American trees it is the most 

 magnificent and triumphant in its autumn 

 coloring. Year after year it would flash forth 

 like a great beacon fire to celebrate anew the 

 coming of peace to the world, and no one with 

 eyes in his head could remain unmindful of its 

 meaning. 



In time the Tupelo may reach a height of eighty 

 or even a hundred feet. In winter it is partic- 

 ularly noticeable on account of its curiously 

 directed branches, slightly drooping and those at 

 the top very twiggy or twisted. In summer its 

 long, lustrous leaves give it a fine appearance and 

 it bears also fairly conspicuous clusters of dark 

 colored, oval fruit. 



By preference it grows in swampy places or 

 along streamsides and while it is not very set in 

 this matter, if we have such a position to offer it, 

 so much the better. On account of its long roots 

 with few rootlets, the Tupelo is a difficult tree 

 to transplant, and even when procured from a 

 nursery (where presumably it has experienced 

 frequent transplanting) small specimens make 

 the safest investment. The "Standard Cyclo- 

 pedia of Horticulture" states that the Tupelo is 

 hardy and at home from Maine and Ontario to 

 Michigan, to Florida and Texas. Some young 

 specimens that I set out a few years ago along the 

 edge of a wood have grown well and are already 

 making themselves felt in the autumn pageant. 



The World's Best for American Gardens 



After reading Mr. Farrington's article last 

 month I was not a little chagrined to realize that, 

 though I have considered my acquaintance among 

 trees fairly wide, I knew only one of the kinds he 

 mentions. And the fact that there are four flour- 

 ishing specimens of that one growing in my garden 

 does not do much to lessen the feeling that where 

 trees are concerned I have been woefully non- 

 experimental and incurious. I have an idea that 

 this tree-ignorance is not confined to myself, even 

 that it is quite common; that though we are 

 quickly receptive toward new plants and are 

 growing more so toward shrubs, when it comes to 

 planting a thing so permanent as a tree our im- 

 pulse is to choose one that we know all about. 

 But this is not the path of progress; and here in 

 America where the long sunny autumns are par- 

 ticularly favorable to the thorough ripening of the 

 wood of trees and shrubs, we should take advan- 

 tage of this special beneficence of Nature in our 

 favor and grow many more trees and shrubs than 

 we do. 



The one tree mentioned by Mr. Farrington that 

 I possess is Malus floribunda. It is a most beau- 

 tiful and graceful tree, and does not grow so large 

 but that it may be used in quite small gardens. 



66 



Here it grows right in the flower borders where it 



frovides a light shade for such plants as desire it. 

 t looks well all the year but in early May when 

 its slightly drooping branches wreathed in de- 

 lightful color are spread above colonies of pink 

 and white and cherry-colored Tulips and clumps 

 of Florentine Iris, I think there is nothing quite 

 to equal it. Very small specimens bloom gen- 

 erously so that it is a pleasure from the very 

 first. 



Look Out for the Sleepy-Heads 



Every year many hardy plants and bulbs 

 are destroyed or seriously injured by the impetu- 

 ous digging that goes on in the beds and borders 

 as soon as the frost is out of the ground. Now 

 it should be remembered that there are late as 

 well as early risers among our plants; and while 

 some early bestir themselves, sending forth a 

 little green or red point or a leaf or two, others go 

 right on snoozing as if it were still midwinter 

 and make no sign at all to apprize us of their 

 whereabouts. 



A nurseryman told me that certain hardy 

 plants are particularly profitable to the trade, 

 not only because of their popularity but because 

 they are yearly destroyed in the spring digging 

 and must so be constantly replaced. It is im- 

 possible to remember the exact location of every 

 plant in a garden of any size and it would be too 

 unbeautiful to have the whole place stuck all over 

 with warning labels. But it is possible to carry 

 on our spring garden work with more caution; 

 we may work off our winter-stored energies in the 

 vegetable garden where there are no sleepy heads 

 to be murdered in their beds. It is a painful 

 experience, indeed, to find that we have sliced 

 through a beautiful pearly Lily bulb or torn to 

 shreads a clump of Japanese Anemones. Many 

 of these late risers sleep so soundly that they show 

 no signs of life at all and are often dug up and 

 thrown away for dead, when all they wanted was 

 to have their sleep out and in a little while would 

 have been as green and gay as any. 



Here is a list of such plants from my own gar- 

 den — I should like to have it added to from the 

 experience of others: Blue Spiraea (Caryopteris 

 Mastacanthus or incana), Japanese Anemone, 

 False Indigo (Baptisia australis), Desmodium 

 penduliflorum, Chinese Bellflower (Platycodon), 

 Salvia azurea, Campanula lactiflora, Scilla cam- 

 panulata, Lathyrus tuberosus, Plumbago, Lilium 

 speciosum, Hibiscus Moscheutos, Scutellaria 

 baicalensis, Eupatorium coelestinum. 



[What can you add to that list for the bene- 

 fit of the Garden Neighbors? — Ed.] 



A Nice Little Trailer 



The trailing Soapwort, Saponaria ocymoides, 

 is not nearly so well known as it deserves to be. 

 It is a willing and lovely plant for rock gardeners 

 and is just as kindly disposed toward those 

 who have nothing to offer it save the edge of a 

 well-drained flower border. It is easily raised 

 from seed, but in a batch of seedlings there is 

 usually a good deal of choice as the flowers 

 of some will be much brighter and purer than 

 others. There is a white form that is pretty, 

 but much less gay than the type. A ten cent 

 packet of seed if sown in a prepared seed bed or 

 pan will result in dozens of nice little plants 

 with which to set a border edge in company of 

 such other small folk as Arabis, creeping 

 Phloxes, dwarf Irises, trailing Gypsophilas and 

 Veronicas. If comfortable the little plants 

 will spread into broad leafy mats full eighteen 

 inches across that in late May, and for a long 

 time thereafter, will be almost completely hidden 

 by the many loose cymes of small bright pink 

 blossoms. 



