December, 1912 



THE GARDEN MAGAZINE 



203 



(Editor's Note. — We want to know how suc- 

 cessful workers do things in order to put actual 

 experiences before our thousands of readers in all 

 parts of the country. Every reader is invited to con- 

 tribute a short note on some interesting experience. 

 Just stale the facts about some ingenious idea that you 

 have actually worked out yourself or have seen.) 



Primulas indoors 



The most satisfactory thing last winter 

 in our window garden was a box of young 

 polyanthus {Primula elatior vars.). We 

 wanted to have in the garden an edging of 

 these beautiful old-fashioned flowers so 

 sowed a packet of seed in summer, but 

 some of the plants were so small when 

 winter came on that we hated to risk them, 

 not being sure how hardy they would prove 

 the first winter. We compromised by 

 setting a dozen of the seedlings in a window- 

 box filled with good soil and putting it in a 

 room which received no heat direct but 

 was warmed by the air from the hall. 

 Here they grew thriftily in spite of the fact 

 that the temperature several times ap- 

 proached the freezing point. By the end 

 of February buds were showing. In March 

 the box was a delight. Nearly all the 

 plants bloomed; the foliage was sturdy and 

 abundant and not troubled with insects. 

 The flowers in combinations of red and 

 yellow were not only bright but some of 

 them were decidedly sweet scented. In the 

 spring they were transplanted to the 

 border. — B. A. H., Penna. 



The obstreperous squash 



The space devoted to my garden was 

 rather scanty for all that I wanted to do 

 last year, so remembering the pumpkins 

 among the corn on the old homestead, I put 

 my squash seed in the hills of corn, sup- 

 posing that squash vines grew just the same 

 as pumpkin vines. But the way they grew 

 was marvelous! I thinned out the plants, 

 but the ones I left soon overtopped the corn, 

 strangled some of it with their tendrils, 

 and with their great leaves prevented the 

 pollen from reaching the corn silk, so that 

 we had only a few imperfect ears of corn-. 

 I trimmed off and carried out armfuls of 

 the vines; still they ran over and through 

 the four-foot poultry wire trellis of the peas 

 on one side, so that whenever r gathered 

 peas I had to "swamp" a path through 

 the squash vines with pruning shears. 

 On the other side they overran the pole 

 beans, going to the tops of the eight to 

 ten foot poles and pulling a great many 



of them over. At the end, one vine ran 

 up into the top of an old cherry tree, 

 where two squashes ripened, hanging from 

 branches which had never produced such 

 fruit before. Those vines were fairly 

 "getting on my nerves," when they finally 

 met their Waterloo in a heavy frost about 

 the middle of September. — E. B., Mass. 



Ammonia for forcing bulbs 



We had unusual success last winter in the 

 use of ammonia in forcing bulbs. Not only 

 did we have them at an earlier date than 

 usual, but the flowers were larger and more 

 vigorous. Once a week, when watering 

 them, we used water to which ammonia had 

 been added in the proportion of a table- 

 spoonful to a quart. The paper white 

 narcissus were brought into bloom by this 

 method in five weeks from planting. — 

 D. R., Illinois. 



Non=blooming wistaria 



In looking over the Readers' Service 

 department in the February, 191 2, Garden 

 Magazine, I saw the query of M. F. T., 

 concerning a non-blooming wistaria. I 

 have read, and it has been my experience, 

 that wistarias do not bloom to any extent 

 until they have attained their full growth, 

 and they will grow and grow for years. 

 When my vines reach the height and the 

 size that I desire, I prune the last year's 

 growth and my reward in lavish bloom 

 will come in another year at the longest. 

 I have a magnificent white wistaria trained 

 to the housetop and over a tall chimney. 

 After reaching its limit it has bloomed and 

 bloomed. Last year it transcended itself; 

 some of the flower stems were fourteen 

 inches by actual measurement. Each fall 

 I mulch all my vines quite heavily with 

 manure for they are rank feeders. — 

 J. D. Z., Pennsylvania. 



Good words for Henry's lily 



I was sorry to read some comments, 

 published some time ago in The Garden 

 Magazine, on the Henryi lily. Several 

 years ago I planted a Henryi bulb; it 

 threw up a fine stalk, tall and strong, 

 and flowered fairly well. The second 

 season the stalk was almost six feet 

 high, and bore eighteen flowers, the 

 period of bloom lasting for three weeks. 

 The next season there were four stalks, 

 and that fall I divided it, finding two very 

 large bulbs and quite a number of smaller 

 ones. Comparing them with the other 

 lilies of my garden, I find them the heal- 

 thiest and most vigorous. The candidum 

 fails to increase with me, and the lovely 

 Nankeen lily is capricious, refusing en- 

 tirely to bloom some years. The specio- 

 sums are unreliable and often disappear 

 after two seasons. The auratum lilies, 

 with the exception of two surprising bulbs 

 which have bloomed for six successive 

 years, soon leave me, and are liable, even 

 the first year, to a black spot. The 

 beautiful tenuifolium, of course, no one 

 hopes to keep in this climate. I have 



also in my small collection the handsome 

 Humboldt lily, some Burbank hybrids 

 in fine shades of scarlet; and the hardy 

 croceum in salmon and red. But I feel 

 that the only ones on which I can rely 

 for growth, bloom, and increase, are the 

 tiger lily and the Henryi. I find the family 

 as a whole disappointing; though we 

 cannot do without them, particularly the 

 lovely speciosums, both Melpomene and 

 rubrum, with their beautiful color and 

 fresh delicate perfume. But among them 

 all the Henryi holds its own. The rich 

 yellow flowers with their stripe of pale 

 green, their refinement of outline, the 

 handsome leaves and strong joyous growth 

 make it one of the most delightful for 

 both house and garden, and I cannot hear 

 it decried without saying a word in its 

 defense. — H. A. H., Maryland. 



White pine scale 



The pine needles in the photograph are 

 thickly infested with the white pine needle 

 scale, technically known as Chionaspis 

 pinifoliee. Each of these scales covers a 

 mass of minute reddish eggs which begin 

 to hatch about the time new growth starts 

 on the twigs in the spring. The minute 

 young will crawl about and settle on the 

 newly forming needles in which they insert 

 their beaks to suck out the sap. After 

 they have once settled they remain station- 

 ary and a waxy scale forms over their 

 bodies. This insect is sometimes quite in- 

 jurious to the foliage and may weaken or 

 kill trees. The remedy is to spray the trees 

 thoroughly with kerosene emulsion as 

 soon as the needles on the new growth of the 

 twigs begin to form. This, of course, will vary 

 in different localities so that the exact date 

 cannot be given, but the work must be done 

 within a short period in order to kill the min- 

 ute insects before they are settled and are 

 protected from the treatment by their 

 waxy scales. — A. D. H., Washington, D. C. 



Examine your pine trees ; if there is any trace of this 

 scale, spray with kerosene emulsion in the spring 



