NOTES FROM A WOMAN'S GARDEN— MARCH. 



play themselves. Perhaps we can forgive its noxious 

 qualities for the sake of its charms of early bloom, beauty, 

 exquisite fragrance, and the handsome red berries with 

 which it adorns itself for the revel of summer. Its near 

 relative is the Japan daphne, or Genkwn, which is a 

 rare shrub with violet-colored tubular flowers of a de- 

 lightful perfume, blooming a little later. 



One of the handsomest of magnolias, Magnolia sU-l- 

 Idla, is also the earliest to display its exquisite pure- 

 white, fragrant blossoms It is not unusual to see these 

 in March about the time that the aromatic spice bush and 

 Diria palitslris, or leatherwood (so called from its tough 

 leathery twigs) display their small yellow blossoms. 



Jasniinitiii nudi floriim, also yellow, comes about the 

 same time. Yellow is the favorite color for vernal bloom, 

 as though grateful nature reflected back in glowing flow- 

 ers the generous sunbeams that have once more warmed 

 her bosom to life. The blossoms of the common English 

 furze, Ulex Enropwa, carry out this idea. This is a fine 

 shrub, very effective in masses, and often giving its first 

 blossoms in the sunny days of the February thaw. 



The early snowdrop and many varieties of crocus 

 bloom in March. Chionodoxas, winter aconite, scillas, 

 spring snowflake, meadow saffron and triteleias, join the 

 long procession of early-flowering bulbs, all delightful and 

 of the easiest culture. 



Hyacinths and crown imperials, daffodils and jonquils 

 are too familiar to our readers to need more than a men- 



tion. The sweet white violets make their appearance 

 late in March or early in April, and, in the woods we 

 may now look for skunk cabbage, blood-root, twin-leaf 

 and marsh marigold, or Caltha pnhistiis, which means 

 " cups of gold." These are fairy cups indeed, studding 

 the waters of the forest pool, bright tokens of the season's 

 wealth. A little later one has the exquisite pleasure of 

 bringing home that " darling of the forest," the fragrant 

 trailing arbutus, which is quickly followed by hepaticas, 

 dog's-tooth violets, anemones, and many other delicate 

 blossoms of the woods. 



There is no month in a mild winter when the ubiqui- 

 tous dandelion may not be found snugly ensconced in a 

 sheltered nook and lifting its cheerful face saucily to 

 catch the chary sunbeams of the dark season, and I have 

 found blossoms of the useful rapid-growing kerria or 

 Japan corchorus almost hidden beneath the snow. 



Perhaps my prime favorite among spring flowers is the 

 wall-flower, and this blooms with the daffodils at a time 

 when fragrance is very rare. Its botanical name, CJtei- 

 laiUluis iheifi, I especially like. It has' something ca- 

 ressing in its sound, suggesting this cherished gem of the 

 early year. No doubt in this brief enumeration of the 

 brave pioneers of spring I have forgotten some that are 

 equally worthy of a place on the roll of honor, and to 

 them it only remains to me to make my bow and to offer 

 my most humble apologies. 



West Vii-g'niia . Danske D,\ndridge. 



NOTES FROM A WOMAN'S GARDEN— MARCH. 



j\' ALL it is generally conceded 

 that March is one of the most 

 unpleasant months of the 

 whole year. But even in 

 March --boisterous, chilly 

 rough, wintery March — we 

 find many evidences that 

 spring is coming, albeit slow- 

 ly. Besides the "dancing daffodil," the March 

 breezes have started many another flower. Early 

 in the month the crocuses and snowdrops bloom ; 

 the hyacinths and tulips begin to push up towards 

 the light. We find tiny brown and green grass- 

 hoppers disporting themselves in our garden. Rob- 

 ins, blue-birds, song-sparrows aie beginning to 

 come. The neighbor's hens are already in the field 

 and well to the fore. With all these tokens of ad- 

 vancing spring, we feel that we must do something 

 in the gardening line. 



There is little one can do so early. We walk over the 

 entire place and gather all the dead limbs blown from 

 the trees during the winter, prune any vines left unpruned, 

 cut and cremate at once every limb of quince or plum 

 tree showing even the smallest black wart. 



We are tempted, but we do not uncover any plants ; 

 rather renew the covering if it has been too rudely dis- 

 turbed by the winds of winter. Very early in the month 

 we take account of stock, look over our seed, consult 

 various seed catalogues, and order seeds and plants. 



Chrysanthemums, tender roses and any plants stored 

 n the dark cellar are brought gradually into the light 

 and warmth. No matter how hard the ground is frozen 

 outside, we keep always a good supply of garden soil in 

 the cellar, and plant in shallow boxes seeds of pansies, 

 chrysanthemums, cosmos, and any others needing a par- 

 ticularly early start. These boxes are placed in the day 

 time in the cold grapery or in any sunny window. Care 

 must be taken that the earth does not get chilled, and 

 that the boxes have warm quarters at night. 



Sometimes we try a hot-bed, but usually decide that it 

 does not pay for the necessary work ; too much scorch- 

 ing by day and freezing by night to guard against, to say 

 nothing of snow to be shoveled off the beds, and paths 

 made to it. We prefer waiting a little longer, and 

 then raise our early lettuce and radishes in cold-frames. 



We look eagerly forward to April ; then spring is not 

 ' ' coming, " but is here, and we begin our gardening oper- 

 ations in earnest, and with renewed fervor after the long 

 enforced rest of winter. M. E. Vigneron. 



Plyiiioutli Co., Mass. 



