1B2 



THE AMERICAN GARDEN. 



[October, 



THE LAWN IN AUTUMN. 



Do not postpone till spring anything you 

 can as well and conveniently do in the fall. 

 Remove dead wood from trees and shrubs. 

 Cut down whatever trees you wish to fell, 

 and dig up and remove whatever old shrub- 

 bery you wish to displace. If the trees or 

 shrubs are evergreen, save the branches to 

 help cover up or otherwise protect in winter 

 whatever somewhat tender bushes or her- 

 baceous plants you may have in your gar- 

 den ; even thick, brushy branches (as those 

 of birch) of deciduous trees and shrubs, are 

 also useful for the same purpose. 



Fill the holes from which you have grub- 

 bed up tree roots, and pack them firmly : 

 even then the winter's rains and snows will 

 settle them considerably. Ground intended 

 for fresh shrubberies, lawns, or borders, 

 should be leveled, then heavily manured 

 and double plowed or trenched, but it is not 

 well to finally level off the same till spring, 

 when you will observe a puckered surface 

 and hollow places, not discernible before 

 the winter's frosts and snows have com- 

 pacted equally the soil. 



For trees and shrubs, old peat muck is an 

 excellent thing to introduce into the soil ; 

 but, except the fine earthy portion of it, I 

 would not recommend it for lawns : it makes 

 them too spongy. In poor, sandy land, 

 though, I have found it useful for lawns and 

 excellent for grass. It also opens up clayey 

 soils, but for this last purpose, perhaps, there 

 is nothing better than clean, sharp sand, and 

 lots of it. 



Except in sheltered ground, and that 

 which is well drained and not very stiff, I 

 should not recommend planting all trees or 

 shrubs in fall in the Northern States. Of 

 course, there are many trees so hardy and 

 sturdy that you may plant them at anytime 

 with impunity, but for the finer and more ten- 

 der sorts, I think the early spring is the pref- 

 erable season. In the Middle and Southern 

 States you may plant trees with almost abso- 

 lute safety any time, — from when they lose 

 their leaves in the fall till they begin to regain 

 them in spring. But plant them when you 

 may, please observe to have as well-rooted 

 plants as you can get ; cut clean the muti- 

 lated roots ; between the time of lifting and 

 transplanting never allow the roots to be- 

 come dry, by exposure or otherwise ; in plant- 

 ing, pack the soil as firmly about the roots 

 as if you were setting a fence-post, and cut 

 back the branches and top of the tree to a 

 Justifiable degree. 



William Falconer. 



THE PUBLIC GARDEN OF BOSTON. 



The floral splendors and exquisite taste 

 displayed in this lovely spot are probably 

 not excelled, if equaled, anywhere on this 

 continent. Immense sums of money are de- 

 voted for its maintenance, and, although 

 these grounds are a source of pride to many 

 intelligent Bostonians, the masses, as appears 

 from the following description given in the 

 Boston Herald, seem not to appreciate their 

 treasure : 



The people's pleasure ground, adjoining 

 the Common, has several seasons, all too 

 brief, of special beauty. In the early spring, 



when the tender green of the new grass and 

 the early budding of the new trees delight 

 the eye of those who have grown weary 

 "waiting for^the May," the public garden is 

 decked out with its annual TuLp show. 

 Bed after bed of the gorgeous flowers 

 stretch along the walks, a border of crim- 

 son and gold, and all brilliant hues, inter- 

 mingled and harmonized as only the daring 

 yet unerring hand of nature can do it in 

 dealing inform and color. Tulips numbered 

 by the ten thousand, of all known varieties, 

 contrasted here and there with the more 

 delicate beauty of the odorous Hyacinths, 

 give to the people's garden its first season of 

 glory. 



There is no such sight elsewhere in this 

 country, and yet but a small portion of our 

 citizens ever take the trouble to see it. If 

 it were fenced in and well advertised, with 

 a stiff admission price, doubtless the scant 

 procession of sight-seers would become a 

 throng. 



In midsummer the beds and borders are 

 filled with Geraniums and a great variety of 

 foliage plants, and the solid masses of bright 

 and dark colors, set off by the far-stretching 

 grass-plats, make the garden again a picture 

 of rare beauty. And later on, the stately 

 and gorgeous autumn flowers give a fitting 

 finale to the succession of "grand trans- 

 formation scenes." 



One of the chief attractions in the gar- 

 den are the beds of Pansies. The lovers of 

 this high-bred blossom can feast their eyes 

 to satiety, if such a thing were possible with 

 flowers, by visiting the garden on one of the 

 rarest of rare occasions, a June day in June. 

 The corsage bouquet of a New York belle, 

 apparently constructed upon the frame of a 

 sunshade, makes a wonderful " Pansy show " 

 by itself, while a full urn or garden bed of 

 velvety blooms is a sight to remember. But 

 think of a bed twenty feet by six, and mul- 

 tiply that by dozens and scores, filled with 

 Pansies of every conceivable hue, including 

 the most superb specimens, and you will 

 have an idea of the sight which the Boston 

 public garden affords. Solid beds of golden 

 and white Pansies flank similar masses of 

 the brightest blue, the most royal purple 

 the deepest blue-black, and the gayest vari- 

 egated varieties. 



There may be a question as to whether 

 this elegant but still modest flower is adapted 

 to this style of treatment in landscape gar- 

 dening. To see their little human faces 

 standing close together, in long ranks, mass 

 after mass, stretching so far away that their 

 individuality is lost, and the eye only per- 

 ceives a patch of color, reminds one that they 

 are living, like those who see them, an arti- 

 ficial life — huddled together in a great city 

 of their own. But, fancies aside, the beds 

 which the skillful gardeners have arranged 

 afford an excellent opportunity for learning 

 what has been done in developing and mul- 

 tiplying this choice flower " for thoughts." 



City Forester Doogue has completed a 

 quite elaborate and very tasty bit of decora- 

 tive art around the base of the Washington 

 statue. Using the choicest varieties of orna- 

 mental plants calculated for fine designs, he 

 has traced the most graceful lines and 



; figures, and so blended the delicate tints of 

 leaf, vine, and blossom as to make a veri- 



I table plant-picture. It would, perhaps, be a 

 species of moral treason for the official in 



| charge of the city's grounds to obliterate, as 



it were, any of the grotesque statues com- 

 mitted to his care ; but the forester has 

 effectually done this in the case of the eques- 

 trian figure mentioned. For so beautiful is 

 the flower-work at its base that no person of 

 taste would think of raising his eyes to the 

 bronze that towers above it. The ladies, 

 especially, seem to enjoy this free-hand, liv- 

 ing embroidery in leaf and vine and dainty 

 blossom, and if the manufacturers of the 

 fabrics they wear would try and copy with 

 more exactness the pearl-grays, the delicate 

 pinks, the cool lavenders, and the other 

 lovely tints of these plants and flowers, that 

 harmonize so perfectly with the beauty of 

 nature in woman and landscape, they would 

 do the world a notable service. 



But the plants and flowers, fine as they 

 are, are not the greatest charms of the pub- 

 lic garden. The roominess of its thirty 

 acres, the long stretches of smooth lawn, 

 the variety of ornamental trees, the clumps 

 of Lilacs, filling the air with their heavy 

 fragrance, and shining ponds with their 

 pretty pleasure-boats, the adjacent Common 

 with its noble trees and familiar walks, and 

 the rows of palaces that border this pleasure 

 ground of the people, combine to make it 

 unrivaled by any similar spot in the very 

 heart of an American city. 



The statuary, bad as some of it is from 

 a high artistic standpoint, adds a certain 

 impressive pieturesqueness to the scene to 

 that preponderating mass of people whose 

 tastes have not been developed to the point 

 where pretty nearly everything gives them 

 pain. Even the " Venus of the Fountain," 

 when she is not "caught without her shower 

 on," as Mr. Ho wells humorously put it, seems 

 to afford a furtive pleasure to the rural visit- 

 ors with whom familiarity has not bred con- 

 tempt. 



The garden, while trim and neat, is not 

 " very greatly taken care of," in the sense 

 that Carlyle meant in flouting at the fastidi- 

 ousness of an Irish lord's place which he 

 visited. It is not too good for the public 

 use and enjoyment. And the wonder is why 

 the public does not make greater use of it. 

 When the weather is not too warm for a walk, 

 some of the dwellers in the back-bay district, 

 whose ideas of luxury do not compel them 

 always to "ride in their carriage," stroll 

 through the pleasant paths of the garden 

 and across the shady Common, on their way 

 to town. But there is no " fashionable hour," 

 nor fashionable throng, in this noble breath- 

 ing-place. As the Common is used chiefly 

 as a thoroughfare, and a place of resort for 

 tramps, loungers, and idlers of the basest 

 sort, so the garden is mostly visited by sight- 

 seers, nursery maids, flirtatious young 

 people, and, at favorable hours, by a few 

 invalids from the vicinity. A pleasure 

 ground, capable of affording abundant room 

 for ten thousand or even twenty thousand 

 people, it is rare to see as many hundred 

 there at a time. 



Things that are common and free come 

 to be slightly valued in this country. If our 

 Common and garden were located in a for- 

 eign capital, they would be vastly better 

 utilized, and no doubt be one of the regula- 

 tion sights for traveling Bostonians who do 

 not now visit them once a year. As it is, 

 the sanitary benefits resulting from these 

 wide, open spaces, and the pleasure which 

 they afford to those who do visit them, amply 

 repay all that their maintenance costs. 



