THE GARDEN MAGAZINE 
Mat, 1917 
222 
and if hard to shell, it proves that the pods are 
well filled. A half filled pod gives up easily. — 
C. N. Keeney, Le Roy, N. Y. 
Fruiting the Papaya in the Greenhouse. 
— “We have them for breakfast every morn- 
ing,” wrote the friend of our boyhood, in 
sending us the seeds from Manila, P. I. This 
was enough to make them interesting to us, 
aside from being a novelty that might be 
worth trying. Years before we had sown 
seeds from Florida, and found they germinated 
almost as readily as tomatoes, but had then 
been unable to carry them farther than the 
first summer. Now we had better facilities, 
and wanted to see what they would do. We 
sowed the seeds in a small box, and when the 
young plants were several inches high, potted 
them up. In a year’s time they were in six- 
Tropical Papaws grown from seed and fruiting successfully 
in a greenhouse in Pennsylvania 
inch pots, and the largest were then about two 
feet high. We picked out two of the best and 
planted them together in the box seen in the 
illustration, where they at once made a won- 
derful growth, and in the fall began blooming. 
Fortune had favored us, for the trees proved to 
be mated, one staminate, one pistillate. 
Curiously enough, the first half of the year 
is a resting period, but from July to December 
the growth is rapid. The staminate flowers 
are produced throughout the year, but during 
the resting period the stems of the clusters are 
short. During the rapid growth of autumn, 
the stems lengthen to from twelve to twenty 
inches, and the clusters are beautiful for decor- 
ative purposes, with cream-colored waxen 
flowers amid an abundance of buds. I hey 
last when cut, for weeks, and have a pleasing 
fragrance, almost too heavy at times. 1 he 
pistillate flowers, borne only during the fall 
months, are much larger, stemless, and borne 
singly in the axils of the leaves; hence are very 
few in number compared with the abundance 
of the others, and having no cut flower value, 
are of interest chiefly as forerunners of the 
fruit crop. 
We were disappointed when one after 
another, the pistillate buds dropped off with- 
out opening. Finally one developed properly, 
and we pollinated it with the flowers from the 
other tree, and the young fruit began to grow. 
\\ hen it had reached the size and appearance 
of a May-apple or Mandrake fruit it, too, 
dropped ofF. 1 he nextYseason we were more 
successful, and three fruits were matured. 
Early in June the largest began to show 
yellow, and soon felt mellow to the thumb; 
but it continued getting yellower until the 
green showed only in mottlings on one side, 
and a pronounced musky odor developed, by 
no means tempting. Then we picked it. 
When the knife went through we almost 
regretted our rashness, for the hollow fruit 
was thickly lined on its inside surface with 
what looked suspiciously like toads’ eggs, each 
dark- seed being surrounded by a whitish 
gelatinous covering. This fruit was nine 
inches long, and weighed three pounds. 
After fruiting we removed the bottom from 
the box, and set the plants on one of the 
ground beds of the greenhouse, so they may 
have all the root room they desire. To our 
surprise we found they were far from pot- 
bound, the roots showing very little on the 
bottom of the small box. — J. C. Galloway, 
Pennsylvania. 
The Opal Anchusa. — Prior to the introduc- 
tion into English gardens some fifteen years 
ago of Anchusa italica, Dropmore variety, 
the members of this family had little claim 
upon the lovers of perennial flowers, but 
to-day there are no more beautiful plants 
grown than the improved forms of the Alkanet. 
I well remember the first appearance of the 
Dropmore variety at the Temple Show in 
London, and it was certainly the most popular 
plant of the year, being shown in superb form 
by Mr. Maurice Pritchard of Christchurch. 
This variety is well known in American gar- 
dens and its rich blue flowers make it one of the 
most striking plants of the border in mid- 
summer. The variety Opal was introduced 
a few years afterward and to my mind is 
more beautiful than the dark blue Dropmore. 
I he color of Opal is a glorious pale blue, sim- 
ilar to that of Delphinium Belladonna, and 
during the blossoming period I do not know of 
any plant so singularly handsomV 1 his 
Anchusa deserves a prominent position in 
every garden, and when it has become fully 
established, the second or third year after 
planting, it makes a wonderful display. I he 
main stem rises to a height of five or six feet 
with numerous side branches and is com- 
pletely clothed with the flower panicles. It 
amply repays good cultivation and should 
be planted in a well-drained border where 
water will not collect around the crowns, and 
after the plants have become established they 
should not be disturbed. — A. E. Thatcher, 
Bar Harbor, Me. 
Cotton in New England. — A few years 
ago I sent to a friend in New England a half- 
matured cotton plant. Shortly afterward, 
I received in acknowledgment a very enthusi- 
astic letter. 
Then, I received another letter from him the 
next autumn. “When planting my garden last 
spring,” he wrote, “I decided to try an experi- 
ment. I separated the seeds from one of the 
bolls of cotton and planted them in a bed 
prepared as for Petunias. This was May 
first. May fifth the gawky seedlings like 
colossal, short-stemmed Nasturtiums ap- 
peared. There followed a few cool nights 
during which my cotton prospects were not 
bright. The plants turned yellow and dropped 
the cotyledons leaving only a small green bud 
at the top of the short stalk. But when June 
came they feathered out like spring chickens. 
Fuzzy growths shot out from every side of the 
stem. 
“By the twentieth of July the plants had 
attained a height of z\ feet. The funny buds 
(wh ich you call ‘squares’) I mistook for 
bugs, and destroyed nearly all of them before 
discovering my mistake. Near the first of 
August the first hlossom came. The first day 
it was pure white in color; the second, it was 
pink turning to crimson in the afternoon; the 
third day it curled up in the shape of a little 
doll, and fell to the ground leaving a soft green 
ball the size of a pea where it had been. 
“Soon some of the plants had from 20 to 30 
bolls the size and shape of partridge eggs. 
But frost came before one of them opened. I 
gathered several of the larger and fullest 
matured fruits and hung them in my study as 
souvenirs of my achievement. When I re- 
turned home one week later I received another 
surprise. Hanging from the walls of my room 
were great fluffy snow-white cotton bolls. 
I ran into the gaiden and the bolls upon the 
old plants were bursted and the buds curled 
back so that you could see they had made an 
effort to open, also. I never before saw a room 
so beautifully decorated as is mine, and I 
veritably believe the decorations will last all 
winter.” — Buford Reid, Ark. 
Weedy Tendencies of the Japanese Knot- 
weed. — I notice the Japanese or Giant Knot- 
weed listed in several of the new catalogues ' 
from several large seedhouses. 
Now since its presence in the garden is a 
potential source of danger possible purchasers 
should be warned. A comparatively new 
importation from the Orient, the Giant Knot- 
weed is beginning to make itself at home on 
this side of the ocean; it is escaping its bounds 
and becoming a pestiferous weed. One of 
the first places from which the plant has been 
reported as escaping is the vicinity of Chester, 
Pennsylvania. Since then, according to au- 
thorities whose duty it is to record the dis- 
tribution of plants, it has escaped locally 
throughout the territory- from Newfoundland 
to Virginia and from the Atlantic Ocean to 
the Mississippi River. 
Giant Knotweed, Polygonum cuspidatum, offered as a 
garden plant may become a troublesome weed 
