Follows the heady joy of fall planting. No tucking in of a 
peony here and an iris there, but the setting of large, fine, definite 
sweeps and rows of plants and bulbs with smooth, black earth over all. 
Tall, glowing ranks of hollyhocks, towering blue delphiniums, 
clustering, gay carpets of pansies are beautiful things, but good black 
dirt, swept and garnished after fall planting, is to the gardener a soul 
stirring sight To the irresponsible lover of flowers the fruits of the 
earth are enough. Deep-seated content in good black earth is the test 
of the gardener-born. 
©rowing peonies from Seeb 
Nothing better ensures our renewed enthusiasm for the garden 
every year than the raising of seedling perennials, especially those that 
give a varied progeny from seed ; for here every seedling holds the secret 
possibility of producing some fine new color or form — a secret only to 
be revealed when the blooming time comes around. 
Among the many perennials that one should grow from seed — 
phloxes, delphiniums, pyrethrums, primroses, auriculas, tulips, narcissi, 
and all the rest — none offer more interest or a greater reward for the 
possible fine seedling than peonies. No one can deny, however, that 
the raising of them requires some patience. 
In a recent catalogue of a second-rate seed house, I came on an 
offering of peony seed at five cents a packet, and, underneath, the 
legend, "Lots of fun to grow peonies from seed." Well, there is much 
truth in the statement, though I doubt whether its author had ever in- 
dulged himself much in fun of that sort. 
This is the fun as it really is; the seed matures in August or 
September, and may be sown at once in the open ground; it will lie 
dormant in the ground over winter, summer, and winter again, and 
will germinate in the first warm days of the succeeding spring. That 
is, seed sown this autumn, 1915, will germinate in April or May, 1917. 
As a matter of fact the seeds begin growth earlier than that, but 
it is root growth only. I was looking a little while ago at some of my 
seeds sown in the autumn of 1914, and I found a strong white root 
from each seed working its way down two or three inches into the 
ground, making ready to maintain the leaf that will push up next spring. 
And these first little crimson leaves are about as appealing as any of the 
many thrilling things of spring. They are only half an inch or an inch 
across, and a couple of inches off the ground, but unmistakably they 
are little peony chicks; and if you love peonies you will not fail to love 
these. The fun has now begun. 
Later in the season each plant will probably make another tiny 
leaf, but that will be all for the first year. In the autumn they should 
be set out in rows, about eight inches apart in the row, and the rows 
a foot or more apart. The next year you will get a couple of larger 
