An ideal spot for exliibition flowers. Sheltered from winds 



Tile vine-liung porch, is one of the little attractions that count 



A Profitable Hobby in Dahlias— By Mrs. Edward Warren, 



Massa- 

 chusetts 



OVER $200 A YEAR AS A SIDE ISSUE FROM RAISING FOR TUBERS AND FOR CUT FLOWERS IN A NEW 

 ENGLAND VILLAGE — THE SPIRIT OF ENJOYMENT THAT EXCITES THE REAL FLOWER LOVER 



WHETHER I have learned what I know 

 of dahlia-raising from the sins of 

 omission or those of commission would 

 puzzle a wiser brain than mine to decide. 

 Confession may be good for the soul of the 

 other fellow, but it is only a mortification 

 for mine, yet all these foolish mistakes and 

 misfortunes surely may prove a warning 

 to other would-be growers, so I'll tell them 

 as they occurred; for if I left out the few 

 successes, and told all the failures at once, 

 it would almost be appalling. I am sure 

 of this one thing — nothing that could happen 

 to a would-be gardener along the line of 

 petty disaster is listed that has not happened 

 to me. Industrious hens, mischievous cats 

 and dogs, inquisitive cows, cutworms, tar- 

 nished beetles and even covetous humans have 

 all been recorded in the garden-book as 

 the enemies, natural or unnatural, of dahlia- 

 raisers. But even four traveling cows, 

 which put up for the night in my most val- 

 uable patch of exhibition dahlias, had their 

 educational value, which is witnessed in 

 better and higher fences and stronger posts 

 and gates. Still, out of that trampled and 

 broken field of flowers I took to the exhi- 

 bition table blossoms that came off A-i. 

 Perhaps they might have been called the 

 product of chance and neglect, in that the 

 cows weren't kept out entirely, but in reality 

 they had meant work a-plenty and bitter 

 disappointment, too. 



My first expenditure for dahlia bulbs 

 seemed large to me then, in my ignorance 

 of the variety and value of the dahlia in the 

 trade world. I ordered three dozen tubers 

 at our county fair, making my selection from 

 the flowers exhibited. This, by the way, is 

 not the method I recommend for my cus- 

 tomers with my own exhibits, the reason 

 being that the exhibition dahlia is as dif- 

 ferent from the flower as it grows naturally 

 as the stunningly dressed debutante is from 

 the simple maiden of every-day Ufe in print 

 dress and apron. 



These three dozen tubers were divided 

 in the fall, before delivery, and in the spring 



had suffered so much from this fall cutting 

 that one third of them succumbed; the re- 

 mainder, two dozen, I proceeded to crowd 

 into a bed where some kind of annual had 

 been grown the previous year. My room, 

 you see, was small, my ignorance great. 

 Strangely enough, some of these tubers grew, 

 and blossomed very well. I remember A. D. 

 Livoni, Lucy Faucett, and a white pompon 

 very well. There are many varieties of 

 dahlias for the amateur grower that will 

 admit of great abuse and much neglect. I 

 saw, last summer, ten roots of A. D. Livoni 

 crowded into a space not more than five 

 feet square, and with sun only part of the day, 

 that were really a pleasing sight, at a dis- 

 tance resembling a big rose bush. How it 

 was done I don't know nor do I advise trying 

 to find out. 



My mistake of overcrowding was followed 

 by others equally disastrous. When these 



Another hobby is asters, made possible by the 

 dahlia profits 



70 



roots were taken up in the fall, they looked 

 plump and strong, so were carefully shaken 

 free from the naturally clinging soil and 

 packed away on a hanging shelf in a dry 

 warm cellar. The result, of course, was very 

 obvious, and in the spring I was more than 

 discouraged, but bought five or six dozen 

 more varieties, and planted them, this time 

 quite correctly, and with a very pleasing 

 success, as the season was one of those very 

 rare ones which are "good for dahlias." 

 The result of the season's growth left me, 

 in the fall, with a stock in trade of some 

 hundred good clumps, a fair amount of 

 experience, and, in spite of many failures, a 

 well-founded belief that, while the dahlia was 

 hardly "a gold mine in the front yard," it 

 surely looked like a venture with paying 

 possibilities at the back of the house. Dur- 

 ing the following winter I fell a victim to the 

 then prevalent custom of exchanging tubers 

 with persons at a distance. The names 

 sounded so fine to my ignorant ears — the 

 Countesses and Barons, the Princesses and 

 Dukes, fascinated me. The royal names, 

 however, were used only to palm oft" dahlias 

 of most plebeian origin. It took me more 

 than two years to cull out and destroy this 

 addition to my stock, and by the time it was 

 done I had learned considerable caution 

 about the statements of others. 



The soil here is very rich and heavy, pro- 

 ducing large, strong clumps of roots, and 

 while this is one of the great factors in the 

 production for the bulbs alone, still I have to 

 use the greatest care, or my plant will keep 

 on making roots to the great detriment of 

 the blossoms. 



I found early in my experience that the 

 production of so many tubers was going 

 to give me too great a surplus for my own 

 use, and that really seems to be the principal 

 reason that I began to sell the roots. 



One of the things that even now puzzle 

 my customers is why I have a few dahlias 

 here, several rows there, and some more 

 tucked away in any old place. There is 

 some method in this apparent madness. 



