

Sweet sultan (Cenlaurea imperialis) 

 matures flowers before hot weather 



The cosmos will give abundant 

 bloom from July until frost 



most ornamental climber is the 

 Coboea scandens 



Salpiglossis, a neglected but one of 

 the most fascinating annuals 



The Secret of Certain Annuals— By h. s. Adams, »% 



PLANT THE MORE TENDER ONES INDOORS, OR IN A COLDFRAME, 

 IN APRIL, OR EARLIER, AND THUS DISCOUNT THE SEASON 



TN all of gardening there is nothing 

 -*■ more disappointing than to see cosmos, 

 or Brazilian morning glory, or any other 

 annual blackened by the frost at the very 

 moment when no end of buds are ready 

 to give the first burst of bloom. One 

 remedy there is, and only one : plant under 

 glass and get a fair start of the season. 



True, the season may be prolonged at 

 the other end by taking the trouble to 

 cover the plants; but, aside from the fact 

 that this is a real trouble when it comes 

 to protecting such big things as cosmos 

 and vines, at every sign of frost, the 

 cooler weather from the middle of Septem- 

 ber on has a marked tendency to diminish 

 the size of some blossoms. So that several 

 of the most beautiful annuals, even if they 

 do get the better of Jack Frost, are never 

 seen in all their perfection when they do 

 not begin to bloom before the fag end of 

 the season. 



There are annuals and annuals: some 

 are and some are not. By certain annuals 

 here is meant the more tender class of 

 those flowers that are treated as annuals, 

 whether they actually are such or are 

 biennials or perennials when on their 

 native heath. That class cannot be sown 

 in the open ground until "all danger from 

 frost is over," which in the North means 

 some time in May, according to the lati- 

 tude. And seed sown so late either 

 stands scant chance of giving good bloom 

 before frost is to be looked for or, owing 

 to the limited time allowed, is forced to 

 offer half measure when only too gladly 

 it would make it full and running over. 



As has been said, the sole remedy is 

 planting the seed under glass. Neither 

 a greenhouse nor a hotbed is needed; 



with both the temptation of the amateur 

 is to sow the seed too early and thus get 

 weak, or weakened, plants for May plant- 

 ing out-of-doors. A coldframe will answer 

 just as well, or shallow boxes placed in a 

 sunny window anywhere from cellar to 

 attic. The point is to get the seed in the 

 ground more than a month earlier than 

 it would be safe to sow it in the open; 

 it must be sown, say, not later than the 

 first to the tenth of April to bring about 

 the desired result. 



I like the coldframe idea myself, because 

 it reduces trouble to a minimum — and 

 brings no dirt into the house. I sow the 

 seed in rows the short way of the frame, 

 and on the back board I put a number, 

 which, in my notebook memorandum, is 

 placed opposite the name of the flower. 

 Only the ordinary rules of seed-sowing 

 are followed, excepting that, until the 

 seeds begin to come up, I water through 

 a piece of cotton cloth cut to fit the seed- 

 bed. The rows can be thinned out as 

 they stand, at the proper time, or if the 

 seedlings are too precious to lose they 

 may be transplanted to another frame. 

 I knock my own frames together, because 

 there always is plenty of old sash avail- 

 able, but in my opinion no country place 

 is complete without one of the real kind, 

 made solid and put in some convenient 

 place to stay there for years, and twice 

 each year to prove an unmixed blessing. 



I speak of cosmos and Brazilian morn- 

 ing glory not at random, but from the 

 heart; I have seen six-footers of the one 

 and twenty-footers of the other ruined by 

 Connecticut frost, and Nebraska frost, 

 just when both at last were ready to re- 

 ward me generously for my summer's 



74 



pains. Another reason why I mention 

 the Brazilian morning glory (Ipomcea 

 setosa) is because I not only seize every 

 opportunity to call attention to one of 

 the most magnificent of annual climbers, 

 but make opportunities wherever I can. 



Here is a really stunning thing, glorious 

 at first with its wonderfully, vigorous 

 growth of handsome light green, lobed 

 foliage, set off by- stems thickly covered 

 with reddish hairs, and still more glorious 

 later when the large blossoms of old rose, 

 with a solferino throat, appear. Seeds 

 planted in the open sometimes have given 

 me blossoms in the late summer, but 

 unqualifiedly I recommend the earlier 

 planting that allows this tropical climber 

 to find its full expression. Started under 

 glass, it is such a rank grower that by 

 August a single vine is likely to cover a 

 space twenty feet square. 



The charming little scarlet morning 

 glory (/. coccinea), the remarkable but 

 sadly unappreciated Japanese and Heavenly 

 Blue morning glories and the moon- 

 flowers all should be given the same early 

 start. To hasten germination the seed 

 of all the ipomceas should be soaked in 

 warm water before planting; frequently 

 I leave them in a tumbler over night, 

 setting the glass on the seed envelope. 

 Moonflowers are such "pesky critters" 

 about coming out of their shells that the 

 only safe way is to file a notch in the seed ; 

 once when I merely soaked some over 

 night it was just four months before the 

 first one showed above ground. All 

 the ipomceas are easy to transplant if the 

 seeds are not planted too close together. 

 I put the seeds in the ground one by one 

 to obviate thinning. 



