VRE * 08 An bes 
Sao Pern 
me EP OOO NE eli TF 
DeEcEMBER, 1908 
“T have every kind of a viburnum, but the one 
that cheers me most is Viburnum Opulus, the ‘high 
‘bush cranberry.’ ’’ 
is red. It burns like a live coal against the 
snow. Black and blue berries are dead by 
comparison, while white ones, though con- 
spicuous, suggest the universal coldness. 
The best way to enliven home grounds 
is to have several large red mass effects. 
Well, then, to make a short story long, you 
now have my theme —red berries that last 
all winter. Every picture accompanying 
this informal screed shows a different kind 
of red berry that lasts all, or nearly all, winter. 
What I don’t know about botany would fill 
many books, so I won’t attempt any learned 
description, as everyone would soon “find 
me out.” However, if it would be any use 
to explain the human interest of these bushes 
I will try to set forth the relative winter 
values of a dozen of the best red berries in 
my collection. 
I give the palm to American holly because 
it is practically the only tree or shrub we can 
have in the North which has the noblest 
possible foil for its red berries, viz., an ever- 
green background. ‘That must be the basal 
reason why it is the most popular symbol 
of Christmas cheer. I had always supposed 
holly to be a Southern plant, and shall never 
forget my delight when I saw a tree twelve 
feet high near New York that was loaded 
with scarlet berries absolutely all winter. 
It suggested to me holly bushes in every 
northern yard and the cold dead landscape 
animated by these immortal-looking leaves 
and glowing berries. 
But I am afraid that this supreme 
beauty will be realised only by the intel- 
ligent few, for holly bushes are necessarily 
costly and there are peculiarities in their cul- 
tivation as I found out by tedious experience. 
I planted my first lot of holly the first 
THE GARDEN MAGAZINE 
chance I got, which happened to be in the 
fall, and discovered that fall-planted holly 
will surely die. The next spring I put out a 
dozen more, but I disobeyed the nurseryman’s 
injunctions to strip off all the leaves, for I 
could n’t bear the idea of sacrificing all that 
grand foliage. Result — failure. The third 
year I paid a big price for a dozen large 
bushes and gloated over a big crop of flowers 
which promised a superb show of berries. 
Not one berry. 
Then I learned that in order to have fruit 
you must have both kinds of bushes— 
staminate and pistillate. Mine were all 
staminate, and, of course, holly without ber- 
ries is like Hamlet without the Prince. 
When I finally got holly to fruit in my own 
yard I was foolish enough to set some bushes 
down by the front entrance where people 
broke off sprigs and stole the berries. 
I have spent more thought and money on 
holly and waited longer for it than for all 
the other red-berried plants put together. 
But it was worth it and the matter is really 
The common purple leaved barberry for contrast 
with the prodigy shown on the cover 
very easy when you know the facts I spent so 
much to learn. 
Anyone who is in a hurry and doesn’t 
mind expense can sometimes pick up large 
plants that have been grown in pots five 
years, or long enough to prove whether 
they are staminate or pistillate, which cannot 
be done until they flower. 
I have a large place and can use hundreds 
of hollies, so I have given a good deal of 
attention to getting them cheaply. I have 
had big plants collected from the wild and 
sent me, but without success, as the only way 
to get good enough roots is to transplant 
frequently or grow in pots. 
A Philadelphia-grown holly two feet high 
costs about $2.50 a plant. Ican get Georgia- 
grown holly twelve to eighteen inches high 
for fifty cents each or $40 per 100, enough to 
start a good bit of hedge, like the famous 
hedges of English holly abroad. 
As I want to scatter holly all through my 
woods I have resorted to growing holly from 
223 
seeds, which is a slow business, but I have 
all the time in the world. The seeds do not 
sprout until the second year and have to be 
put in layers in boxes of sand and buried. 
My present hobby is to collect berries from 
the northernmost points where they grow 
wild, in the hope of developing a strain that 
will be the hardiest and longest-lived and not 
so fearfully slow-growing. 
Speaking of holly reminds me that there are 
several hollies that shed their leaves and con- 
sequently are faster growing and cheaper. 
They cannot compete with the evergreen 
kind, which is Ilex glabra, but they are bril- 
liant enough. The one [I like best for big 
masses is the “ winterberry” you see glowing 
in the swamps about Christmas time. That 
is the black alder, or [lex verticillata of the 
nurserymen. It makes a good show until 
February. (See page 222.) 
I have another holly that is said to have the 
largest berries of the tribe —the long- 
stalked holly (page 222) — which J got from 
a nursery in,the Southern Appalachians under 
the name of J/ex monticola. ‘The berries are 
half an inch in diameter, or twice as big as 
ordinary holly berries, but they are not very 
abundant and drop soon after Christmas, 
so I am satisfied with a few specimens. 
It is a far cry from hollies to roses, but 
almost everyone who hears “red berries” 
mentioned begins to exclaim about the rugosa 
rose. Now I am a “bear” on rugosa, so far 
as winter value is concerned. I grant you 
that it has a “whopping” fruit but it rarely 
remains attractive as late as Christmas, and 
I know a rose that has even bigger “hips” 
that last all winter! (Pictured on page 222.) I 
have imported this from two Irish nurseries 
under the names Rosa lutescens and macro- 
phylla. The fruits are over an inch long. 
But the loveliest rose for winter effect, in 
my humble opinion, is the multiflora. I went 
““Why not enjoy holly berries outdoors all winter 
in our own yard?”’ 
