140 



THE GARDENER. 



[nov. 



near the glass as will allow the shoots to grow to a 

 sufficient height ; they will be green or blanched at 

 pleasure, by covering the glass to exclude the light or 

 not, provided that the weather be temperate. You 

 may put them also into a .mushroom bed, or make a 

 hotbed for them.* Cut down artichokes closely ; clear 

 off the earth from the roots, and lay litter round them, 

 or plenty of leaves if you have nothing better ; by the 

 way, collect leaves for composts at this time, but re- 

 serve oak and chestnut leaves for pits and hotbeds, 

 for they retain heat before complete decomposition for 

 a long time. 



Remove carrots, parsnips, &c., to sheds or cellars 

 where they may be packed in sand, &c., as directed 

 last month. Sow lettuce seeds in new slight hotbeds, 

 and take care of those in the old ones. Plant out 

 cabbages of the early sorts for spring use ; earth up 

 those that have well rooted. Sow the early frame pea 

 and mazagan beans. Clear away all dead leaves, 

 haulms, &c., and preserve as much neatness as possible 

 to relieve the gloom of the season. 



During this month you should procure Dog-briar 

 Stocks for Roses, and plant them with plum and other 

 stocks for your future grafting and budding. 



* Gardeners' Chron. — " In Flanders, where there are choice 

 gardeners, the treatment of asparagus confirms what I have 

 ventured to suggest — that there is no necessity for deep trench- 

 ing or profuse manure; neither do the Flemings cover with 

 litter for the winter, nor fork or dress the beds in spring. Jn 

 the intervals however (for they generally grow them in drills) 

 they form a rich and mellow compost of earth and dung, with 

 which, before the frost sets in, they earth up the rows, like ce- 

 lery, about eighteen inches from the level of the crowns, and, 

 without any further operations, as soon as the buds appear, they 

 cut the shoots nine inches under tne surface ; by which means, 

 having but just reached the light, the whole shoot is blanched 

 and tender.*' — Kitchen Garden. By Martin Doyle. 



