160 



THE GARDEN MAGAZINE 



NOVEMBEB, 1911 



weight of the snow. There is, however, 

 all the difference in the world. The snow 

 is not thrown on by the forkful, but packs 

 evenly. Then again, snow does not rot; 

 it melts. There is where the mischief 

 comes with manure and leaves on top of a 

 plant like the Canterbury bell; both rot 

 when massed. Their weight presses them 

 down and their decay spreads to the centre 

 of the crown — the very heart of the plant. 

 I have seen hundreds of plants in a hardy 

 garden covering a third of an acre and also 

 a large collection of primulas killed in this 

 way. The severity of the winter was 

 blamed, but it was nothing more nor less 

 than manure on top of the crowns. 



On the few occasions where I have felt 

 that I ought to take extra precautions, I 

 have compromised with the situation by 

 throwing a few leaves on the top of auri- 

 culas, Canterbury bells and some other 

 plants and then roofing them over with 

 cornstalks laid, in November or later, 

 over supports just high enough to allow 

 air to circulate beneath. This keeps any 

 excessive weight from the plants and with 

 me has even carried through the winter a 

 species not credited tender so far north. 



Although this form of winter protection 

 is a negligible quantity with me, and, so 

 far as I can tell, always has been an excess 



The faded flower stalks of trie hardy chrysanthe- 

 mum are cut and laid over and around the plants 

 with a few apple leaves. The new growth in the 

 foreground is what must be protected 



of precaution, I am laying special stress 

 on it because I believe it to be a valuable 

 idea that is too infrequently tried by 



those whose gardens have to endure still 

 more cold than mine in central Con- 

 necticut. I use only a few leaves and a 

 single layer of cornstalks, spread so thinly 

 that the snow sifts through. Further 

 north I should first put a good layer of 

 oak, apple or pear leaves under the foliage 

 of, say, Canterbury bells, and throw 

 lightly over the plants enough leaves to 

 hide them, being careful that they did 

 not lie too thickly on the centre of the 

 crown. Unless the winter sets in very 

 early, or circumstances necessitate finish- 

 ing the work in advance of the usual time, 

 it is best to delay the latter part of this 

 operation in order to permit the plants 

 to grow and at the same time gradually 

 "harden." Then, before the snow is 

 likely to lie on the ground, the roof of 

 cornstalks should be made, and as thick as 

 the probable severity of the winter 

 warrants, using a board placed on edge 

 for additional northerly protection. This 

 is also an excellent way to protect young 

 herbaceous plants in a seed bed. 



I use maple, apple, cherry, and elm 

 leaves, with whatever pine needles may be 

 raked up with them, and should be glad 

 of the big leaves of our cucumber tree, 

 as well, but they fall in either tall grass or 

 the potato patch. 



Some Flowers That Endure Frost - By Norman Taylor, 



Curator of Plants, 

 Brooklyn Botanic Garden 



EASILY GROWN PLANTS THAT ANY ONE CAN HAVE, AND WHICH WILL GIVE A LAST 

 TOUCH OF BRIGHTNESS TO THE GARDEN BEFORE WINTER SETTLES DOWN IN EARNEST 



THE combination of early 

 beautiful "Indian 



frosts and 

 summer" makes 

 a trying set of conditions for the gardener, 

 who must pick and choose his plants with 

 a fair knowledge of just what the garden 

 is going to look like after Jack Frost has 

 taken his first sniff at it. 



The yellow flowers of the witch hazel burst out in 

 November when all else has passed 



There is one real winter flower — the 

 Christmas rose (Helleborus niger). This 

 little snow beauty, with irregularly cut 

 leaves and a splendid white flower three 

 inches across, often blooms in December 

 or January in sheltered places. It is not 

 common yet it is easy to grow, but takes 

 time to establish. Seedlings take three 

 years to produce flowers, and while they are 

 worth waiting for, it pays better to buy the 

 plants (in September, by preference) . When 

 once set out they must not be transplanted, 

 for they do better and better as they be- 

 come established, which is the reason that 

 the Christmas rose is best in old gardens. 



SOME PLEASING BLUES AND PURPLES 



That egotistic little half -shrub, the 

 Japanese bush-clover (Lespedezd Sieboldi) 

 is well suited for grouping in startling 

 patches. Its wonderful rose-purple, pea- 

 like flowers in slender drooping clusters 

 are a little too individualistic to make it 

 at ease among more sober neighbors. It 

 is about three feet tall and may easily 

 be grown from seed. The plants seem to 

 flourish with a new lease of life as the year 

 wanes, beginning to flower in late August. 



The annual corn flower (Centaurea Cy- 

 anus) is unique in its color. It thrives in or- 

 dinary garden soil, and will recur year by 

 year from self-sown seed. Among the score 

 or more varieties Emperor William is, I 



think, the best. The plant is covered with 

 a whitish wool when young, but at flowering 

 time the wooliness disappears and the 

 fringed flowers are seen set on a cushion 

 of dark rich green. 





The blanket flower in red and gold blooms from late 

 summer till #ell after the early frosts 



