274 



THE GARDEN MAGAZINE 



January, 1910 



zero Fahrenheit, except in 

 very sheltered locations on 

 the east or north side of 

 buildings. The Boston ivy 

 changes to various shades 

 of scarlet and gold in the 

 autumn, and retains its 

 foliage somewhat later 

 than the Virginia creeper. 



Englemann's Virginia 

 creeper is entirely hardy 

 anywhere in the North- 

 west. It has a clinging 

 habit similar to that of 

 Boston ivy, and is an ex- 

 cellent vine for growing on 

 brick and stone in loca- 

 tions where the ivy is too 

 tender. It is much planted for this pur- 

 pose at St. Paul, and gives fine satisfaction. 

 Like the common Virginia creeper, its beau- 

 tiful foliage turns to a brilliant crimson soon 

 after the first frosts of autumn. 



Vines that are expected to shade and beau- 



Boston ivy growing at Dubuque, Iowa. The preceding winter the temperature was SO degrees 

 below zero. Shows slight injury at one end 



tify the home for a generation or two (and 

 why plant any other?) cannot be planted 

 too carefully. Spring is the best time to 

 plant in the Northwest. If the soil next 

 to the house is poor, as usually is the case, 

 a large hole two feet deep should be dug 



for each vine and filled with 



good soil well mixed with 



old manure or commercial 



fertilizer. Set the vine a 



little deeper than it was 



planted in the nursery, and 



cut the tops back to within 



a foot or so of the roots. 



It is a mistake to train 



the vines on the house or 



porch with strings or weak 



chicken wire when a good, 



rigid support, made of 



heavy galvanized wire that 



will last a lifetime can 



be purchased for about 



ten cents a square foot. 



It may be made any length 



or width desired, and of course should 



be painted. Keep the vines well watered 



and the top soil about the roots loose 



for the first year or two, and they will 



make an amazing growth and become 



thoroughly established. 



An Amateur's Struggle with a Bare Lot— By Robert Mayer, 



A MATTER-OF-FACT RECITAL OF THE AUTHOR'S ENTRY INTO GARDENING — THE DEVELOPMENT 

 OF A SENSE OF FITNESS AND THE SUCCESSFUL ESTABLISHMENT OF A GARDEN OF WILD FLOWERS 



Penn- 

 sylvania 



THIS is written for the benefit of those 

 who are inclined to imagine that the 

 only thing to be done with a city lot is to 

 have a lawn, some rose bushes, a few geran- 

 iums, pansies, etc., just like hundreds of 

 others are doing. 



When we decided to purchase a house in 

 a suburb of Philadelphia and make it our 

 home, the only knowledge of gardening I 

 had was obtained during a two years' stay 

 in a rented city house, with a patch of lawn 

 in the front and rear. I planted a little 

 grass, some lady-slippers, a few pansies, a 

 row of nasturtiums, and one or two other 

 things. Some palms and ferns were pre- 

 sented to us, but for want of proper care 

 they almost perished. 



Such was the fund of knowledge I had as 

 an equipment when I tackled so much of 

 the 20 by 100 foot lot as was not taken up 

 by our house, the steps leading thereto and 

 the cement walks all around it. That about 

 a third of the area was left for gardening will 

 be seen by the drawing showing the general 

 ground plan. 



I was further burdened with duties that 

 occupied my time during most of the day- 

 light hours, often from early morning till late 

 at night. So my conquest was not the leis- 

 ure work, or pleasure, of one who has the 

 time to carefully study conditions, needs, 

 tastes, etc., and then spend lots of time 

 pottering around and working out plans; 

 it was rather the stern and difficult task of 

 one who has little time to strike, must strike 

 intensely hard when the opportunity affords, 

 and who looks back and wonders how he 

 could possibly have accomplished such 

 results as spread themselves out before him. 



When, in February, 1906, I faced the 



proposition of changing a bare lot into a 

 wild flower garden, I found that the lot had 

 been leveled up with an average fill of 

 twelve inches of real, sticky clay, embellished 

 with the remains of the broken slag and 

 cement used in constructing the cement 

 walks, also with brickbats and stones of 

 various sizes, likewise remains of laths and 

 plaster, old pieces of leather, a few cans and 

 the like. The only thing green was the sod 

 that had been laid in front to keep the ter- 

 race from washing away, while in the plant 

 line there was nothing but the privet hedge 

 along the sides and back of the lot. 



The first problem was a lawn. Feeling cer- 

 tain grass would not grow in the clay fill, 

 with its enrichment, I undertook the job of 

 getting good soil by the galvanized bucket- 

 ful, and putting a layer, several inches thick, 

 on top of the clay. Some of the neighbor- 

 ing ground around our lot had not been dis- 

 turbed by the builders, and I was able to dig 

 up fairly good, rich top soil. It seemed an 

 endless task to get enough such soil to put 

 on a two-inch layer on all the bare surface 

 we had to cover, about 700 square feet. 

 Sodding was too expensive, I thought, and 

 there was no telling what kinds of grass we 

 would get by that method of making a lawn. 

 Where to buy good soil, was also a prob- 

 lem. So I stuck it out and eventually got 

 enough top soil for my purpose, though I 

 frequently carried soil in the early morn- 

 ing hours and often in the evening by moon- 

 light and lantern. 



Having enough soil, I raked it fine, leveled 

 it, and sowed the seed. It came up nicely 

 for a while, but the hard pan of clay under- 

 neath was certainly an obstacle to a good 

 lawn. 



The lawn did not come along very well, 

 and I fed it with bone meal and wood ashes; 

 later I sprinkled air-slaked lime on the 

 lawn, thinking it needed sweetening. These 

 did not help very much, so I decided that 

 the only way, though it was heroic treat- 

 ment, was to spade up the whole lawn, 

 turn the soil, and begin anew. This was 

 done in the fall of 1907. The soil was left 

 as spaded, and to it I added sieved ashes 

 and cow manure, and left the sun and rain 

 to do their work of breaking up the clay. 

 In the spring of 1908, I turned under the 

 ashes and manure, raked the surface fine, 

 reseeded it, and was rewarded with a fairly 

 good lawn; but, oh, so many weeds appeared 

 with a lot of crab-grass that spread so beau- 

 tifully, and I had a long fight to rid the lawn 

 of them. A careful and continuous atten- 

 tion has, however, given me a lawn that is 

 in a very fair condition. I now make it a 

 rule to mow it often and keep it short, leaving 

 most of the cuttings lie as a mulch. Similar 

 treatment was given to the other little grass 

 plots in the front of the house. 



While working with the lawn, I was like- 

 wise laying out and planting a garden. As 

 needs presented themselves, new tools were 

 purchased, and many useful little helps were 

 constructed, until now, after three years' 

 experience, I find myself pretty thoroughly 

 equipped for anything that is to be done 

 about my garden. 



At first I showed what a novice I was by 

 planting a Catalpa speciosa in the middle of 

 the lawn and surrounding the base with 

 violets, wild geraniums, etc. In addition, 

 rose bushes, one a General Jacqueminot and 

 the other a Hermosa, were planted in two 

 of the corners, some iris in another corner 



