82 



THE AMERICAN GARDEN. 



[May, 



SEASONABLE HINTS. 



Asparagus. There may be, perhaps, vege- 

 tables that are more delicious, but, as the 

 first harbinger of spring in the kitchen gar- 

 den, this is certainly more appreciated than 

 any other. The pleasures of the garden are 

 surely seriously curtailed by the want of an 

 Asparagus bed ; and even some fortunate 

 possessors of one seem to enjoy only half 

 its luxuries, as is suggested by the inquiry : 

 " What is white Asparagus good for V 



White, or Blanched, Asparagus is as supe- 

 rior in eating quality to the ordinary "green 

 grass" as Sugar Corn is to Yellow Dent, and 

 any one possessed of a particle of discrim- 

 inating taste cannot for a moment be in 

 doubt about the correctness of this state- 

 ment, provided the cook knows how to pre- 

 pare it properly. The best things may be 

 spoiled in cooking. The white Asparagus 

 stalks should be carefully pared, shaving 

 off, with a sharp knife, all the hard, outside 

 skin, from about two inches below the tip 

 to the butt end. They are then tied in con- 

 venient bundles, placed in boiling water, 

 and kept continually boiling until they are 

 entirely tender, which requires about half 

 an hour. They are eaten with melted butter 

 or a white sauce, and should be served as 

 soon as done, as they lose rapidly in delicacy 

 and flavor if left standing. Prepared in this 

 way, the entire stalk is tender and eatable ; 

 while, if it is not pared before cooking, only 

 the tips are fit to eat. How to blanch As- 

 paragus was described in our last number. 



Tomatoes are very sensitive to frost, and 

 should, therefore, not be planted out before 

 the end of this month. 



To those who are cramped for room in 

 their gardens, the following suggestions of 

 our correspondent M. L. P., about training 

 the plants, may offer some valuable hints : 



" When transplanting the Tomatoes, put 

 them in even rows about three feet apart. 

 As soon as they are large enough, hill them 

 well up, and close to each plant drive a 

 forked stick, leaving about three feet above 

 ground. On the forks place long poles, 

 firmly tied. To these train the vines, tying 

 with strings, and nip off the shoots that 

 grow too far above them. By this means 

 every fruit will be fine, free from mud, 

 even when heavy rains fall, and the vines 

 keep in bearing till late in the autumn. 

 The plants are more prolific, and but little 

 fruit is lost, as is so often the case when the 

 vines rest on the ground. In case of early 

 frosts, double sheets of newspapers hung 

 over the trellises will protect the Tomatoes 

 till all are gathered. Let all who have to 

 practice economy of space, and who care 

 for the neatness of their gardens, try this 

 method, and they will never grow Tomatoes 

 in hills again." 



Corn, Melons, Cucumbers, and other ten- 

 der vegetables which cannot with safety be 

 sown in the open ground before "Corn-plant- 

 ing time," may advantageously be forwarded 

 in small pots, in a frame, or a warm window 

 in the house, thus bringing them to maturity 

 several weeks sooner. Melons and Cucum- 

 bers may also be sown, on inverted sods 

 placed in a hot-bed, and at proper time 

 transferred out-doors. 



MUSK-MELONS FOR AMATEURS. 



It is mere painting-the-lily business to 

 I teach market-gardeners how to grow Musk- 

 j melons. But not every suburban resident 

 ! who has a small plot of ground does know 

 how to do it well on a small scale. He fails 

 so often when he tries it, partly from lack of 

 | deft management and partly through insect 

 enemies, that he is apt to abandon it. This 

 he does reluctantly, since a Musk-melon is 

 one of. the few things it is cheaper to grow 

 for yourself, not through saving cost, but 

 for superior flavor and sweetness. Between 

 a Musk-melon carted miles to market, after 

 being pulled the night before, bruised more 

 j or less in transit, and then kept on hand two 

 j or three days, and one taken fresh from the 

 [ vines, there is a vast difference. No one 

 i knows how luscious the fruit is, unless he 

 take it from his own patch. Perhaps I 

 ought to except the chap who takes it from 

 his neighbor's ; but he gets it fresh also, 

 j A light, sandy soil suits the Melon best; 

 i but I have grown fine ones on a heavy loam, I 

 j lying exposed to the sun, and rendered 

 [ friable by a thick coat of sifted coal-ashes, 

 well dug in. Whatever your soil, it must be 

 rich. Dig well with a fork, which does not 

 J pack like a spade, and lay off in hills six 

 ! feet apart. From ten to twenty hills will 

 be sufficient for a family, unless they be 

 convenient to the village small boy, when a 

 thousand will be none too many. Dig in 

 the hills, as the catalogues tell you, two 

 or three shovelfuls of well-rotted manure. 

 Should you want them a little earlier, and 

 have time to spend watering them continu- 

 ally, you may dig a deep hole, fill it two- 

 thirds full of fresh manure, cover and plant. 

 Put in as many seeds as you like,— eight or 

 nine ; but when the plants have made 

 rough leaves, pull out the weakest, leaving 

 j three to a hill. 



j All this is very nice ; but the moment your 

 j plants make their appearance your trouble 

 begins. The first enemy on hand, as prompt 

 as the tax-gatherer, is the striped bug. He 

 has a Latin name, but you'll know him with- 

 out that. Going to the hill where you saw 

 smooth leaves on pale-green stalks the day 

 before, you will find the stumps of the 

 stems. As you bend over the ruin, a little 

 bug, dressed in light olive, with yellow 

 . stripes on his coat, rises up and flies away. 

 There are various ways of baffling this 

 fellow besides not planting at all, which is a 

 dead-sure thing. One of them is to use a 

 plant-protector, which all the seed-stores 

 sell tolerably cheap ; or you can make your 

 own, by knocking the bottom and top from a 

 soap-box, and covering it with gauze. But 

 these are poor expedients, and retard growth, 

 for they shade the plants, and the Melon 

 loves light as well as heat. The true way is 

 to murder the bug. Some one, in an agri- 

 cultural paper, speaks well of Persian insect- 

 powder. I dare say, if you once caught your 

 bug, squeezed the back of his neck until he 

 ! opened his mouth, and made him swallow a 

 pinch, he would die ; but when you go fully 

 armed and bent on insecticide, away flies 

 your bug, and there you are, squirt-pen in 

 hand, and no victim ready. But you have 

 another mode. 



The striped bug does not like the wet, and 

 sleeps, if possible, in dry quarters. He 

 I crawls every evening under clods, or some 

 ' other shelter, out of the dew, and stays 

 I there until the rising sun dries things. Take 



advantage of his prudence. Assuming you 

 have twenty hills, you provide yourself with 

 forty blocks, small cuttings of planed wood 

 from the nearest carpenter shop, or pieces of 

 shingles, or even chips that have one smooth 

 side. Leave at each hill two of these, each 

 smooth-side downward, on a rough surface, 

 or propped by a clod. Get up early in the 

 morning, — you're not a worm, and the early 

 bird wont catch you, — lift suddenly a block 

 in each hand, bring the two surfaces to- 

 gether with a grinding motion, and kill your 

 bugs. Then set your traps again. This 

 method is as old as melon-patches ; but it 

 beats all the new devices. Keep it up lively 

 until the plants have made three or four 

 rough leaves, when they are out of danger. 



There is another insect which sometimes 

 leaves the Pumpkins and Squashes for a 

 melon-dessert, but not often. This is the 

 squash-bug, a dingy, flat, and angular fellow, 

 with a most offensive smell. Put stout 

 gloves on, and treat him by the finger and 

 thumb — c-r-r-ranch ! 



When the vines are twelve or eighteen 

 inches long, go among them and pinch the 

 terminal buds to make them throw out 

 branches. Keep the ground well stirred 

 about the hills as long as you can without 

 disturbing the vines too much. Keep the 

 hills ridged around, so as to have a hollow 

 in the center ; and for a month or six weeks 

 during warm weather, until the fruit is well 

 set, give each hill every few days a half-pail- 

 ful of manure-water. Chamber-slops, well 

 diluted, are the best for this purpose. 



As to the kind of Melon to plant, there are 

 a half-dozen good ones. Allen's Superb is 

 good; so is Sill's Hybrid. The Casaba, or 

 Long Persian, is both fine and large ; the 

 old Nutmeg, if pure, is excellent ; and the 

 old Green Citron, of which the Hackensack 

 is a variety, suits most people. I prefer 

 Allen's Superb and the Casaba, and recom- 

 mend you to plant both, with a few of the 

 little White Japan for early. You can 

 scarcely go amiss in selecting from any 

 seedsman's stock, except you choose the old 

 Yellow Cantaloupe. Beware of that. On 

 second thoughts, no. If you be of a mali- 

 cious turn of mind, and have spare ground, 

 plant all the hills near the road with that 

 kind, and contrive a hole under the fence for 

 the accommodation of the small boy. Then, 

 while Melons are ripening, you shall fiend- 

 ishly chuckle over the disappointment of the 

 depredator as he consumes his booty. 



Do not rush the season in planting. That 

 depends on the latitude ; but, in this sec- 

 tion, the last of May or the beginning of 

 June is early enough. 



When to pluck the Melon ? So soon as it 

 will part from the stem by gentle pressure. 

 Every hour it is on the plant after that in- 

 jures its flavor. T. D. E. 



SUCCESSION OP PEAS. 



To provide a continuous supply of Green 

 Peas from the middle of June till the ground 

 freezes up would, but a few years ago, have 

 taxed the resources of the most skillful gar- 

 dener. Now, this desirable object is easily 

 accomplished by sowing a row of American 

 Wonder Peas every week, from the time the 

 ground can be worked till the middle of 

 August. The first sowings require but light 

 covering, but as tho heat increases, the 

 deeper have the seeds to be planted. 



