October, 1920 
! Odds and Ends 
In the Garden, j 
“ Show me your garden, provided it he your 
own, and I will tell you what you are like.” 
— Alfred Austin. 
A true but not, I think, a trite say- 
ing. There are gardens of cold per- 
fection stamped with the seal of the 
landscape architect, cosmopolitan gar- 
dens derived from the memories of a 
Cook tourist, o vergrown gardens, relics 
of a brief enthusiasm and far too many 
others, but of them all the most hope- 
less is that which has been relegated 
to the care of the man-of-all-work who 
keeps each plant that he knows in 
its place, vanquishes every weed 
and chance seedling and in complete 
absence of imagination seems to regard 
the bare dust-brown earth as the chief 
beauty of a garden. Is it not the re- 
flection of the owner’s personality that 
makes a garden worthwhile? Indeed 
I think it is, and to one who enjoys his 
fellow man, his garden, however it 
may be developed, is of interest. 
Perhaps it is a mere cottage yard, the 
brick path edged with clove pinks, 
clumps of Day Lilies, of Flower de Luce 
or “ Pinies ” rising through lower 
growths, bushy Lilacs or Mock Orange, 
and yet neat withal, the weeds kept 
out, the seed pods picked. Surely this 
is the abode of gentile poverty, of age, 
and shy retirement. More fortunate 
has been the owner of another old time 
garden, a garden with gnarled fruit 
trees, with time worn edgings of box, 
with gooseberries and currants among 
thrifty masses of old time favorites 
and well placed drifts of their kindred 
in newer colorings. Success in a 
worldly way alone has wrought the 
change, the character is the same. 
Whether it is the blazing bit of color 
by some lonely flag station, the blatant 
garden of a nouveau riche or the peace- 
ful, walled garth of a long established 
family we may draw our own conclu- 
sions, they are revelations of character 
to those who pass with a seeing eye. 
As beginners in the art of gardening 
we may err largely. A mere love of 
flowers may urge us to root out the 
sod and plant seed ; curiously enough 
it may take years for us to realize that 
thorough preparation of the ground 
and much discriminating care is re- 
quired for success. The vegetable 
garden may have been our first love, 
just chance have added flowers which 
with similar care were such a lure that 
slowly the vegetables gave way com- 
pletely. Then it is that one must watch 
out and not create a burden. Carried 
to an extreme even a garden becomes 
onerous and one should so plan that 
but half the available time be spent in 
prosaic routine, the balance in really 
living in it, dreaming of the present 
and the future. Such restraint I do 
not possess. It is fascinating to plan and 
plant new beds, carry them to comple- 
tion, but to weed and train, cut-back and 
replace, that is a bugbear. And in the 
final analysis the upkeep of the garden 
is a source of even greater study than 
Slower (Brower 
its inception. It is in this respect that 
we Americans are so often failures. 
By upkeep I do not refer wholly to 
the mere manual labor of keeping the 
paths trim, the edgings dipt and the 
weeds down but rather to that care 
which gives every plant its opportunity 
and yet allows few glimpses of bare 
earth. And with it all, the result must 
be sightly, fresh and colorful. In early 
spring we may nip out a large share of 
the late Phlox shoots to throw the 
strength into a few vigorous stems, we 
may replant the hardy Asters to give 
space for a fully developed panicle, 
raking is impossible among the tender 
sprouts, careless hoeing where the buds 
will burst through almost a crime so 
numerous may be the fatalities. I am 
tempted to give a dissertation on when 
to hoe and when not to hoe in the per- 
ennial garden, but will be satisfied 
with saying never hoe after the first 
overhauling for then you will find baby 
seedlings about the mother plants and 
if they be Peonies or Irises, who can 
tell what beauties they may not un- 
fold ? 
As the Peonies leaf out they will need 
supports and I have found the wire 
tomato supports just the thing, painted 
green, as are all my garden aids, they 
are hardly noticeable. By this time 
the early flowers are past and seed 
stalks of Arabis, Tulip petals and so 
forth are becoming overconspicuous. 
The dying leaves of the bulbs unfor- 
tunately cannot be removed with bene- 
fit until yellow, but often they may be 
camouflaged beneath some neighbor- 
ing growth. As the season advances 
the spiry Larkspurs will need to be tied 
with green raffia, each spike to its 
green, slender stake, for over an en- 
closing support the wind breaks the 
stalks and the support itself may be 
unsightly. I cannot abide the apron- 
string effect of raffia alone, one sees it 
so often on clumps of Boltonia, Aster 
Novae Angliae, or even Chrysanthe- 
mums. As the Baby’s Breath and 
Michaelmas Daisies develop I put in 
forked brush that is soon hidden by the 
sprays of bloom, sometimes a long Rose 
trailer from the nearby arch is brought 
along to cover some bare bit of ground 
where Gladioli have been planted or, at 
the proper time, some of the tall grow- 
ers are pinned down so that their sun- 
seeking flowering branchlets may fill 
the space. 
All this, however, is superficial, it is 
the spring top-dressing, the annual 
wise replanting and division of crowded 
clumps, the judicious watering, and 
special fertilization that are necessary 
culturally to keep even a well-prepared 
garden in good tilth. And the bugs ! 
Whether it is the cut-worm which must 
be scratched for, about a favorite Col- 
umbine or Phlox ; a slug who must be 
tempted by a toothsome mash and 
hunted by the light of a lantern; a Rose- 
bug to be plucked, or a blight to be 
sprayed, such troubles are ubiquitous. 
Fortunately the weeds each year after 
the first become less troublesome (at 
least if you do not use manure), the 
flowers take full possession and there 
is time to transplant the seedlings, 
divide the stock and start new beds be- 
157 
yond. However ambitious your ideas 
may be, start with a small plot of ground 
and then as your knowledge and stock 
of plants increase together, carry on, 
but whatever you do, plan to hold some 
of your garden time for a quiet appre- 
ciation of its beauties, for memories of 
past trials and dreams of future possi- 
bilities. That is our bit of paradise. 
R. S. Barre. 
Growing Ivy. 
The Ivy as a genus is both useful and 
beautiful. The pruning or clipping of the 
Ivy is an essential thing to its well-being as 
well as to its beauty. There is a sort that 
will do without much of this, viz., the small 
leafed Helix, or common English Ivy, a beau- 
tiful, close-growing, cut-leaved variety; but 
the Irish Ivy, a kind commonly met with, re- 
quires an annual clipping if grown on houses 
or walls. Knife-pruning is necessary in cases 
where the Ivy is grown as an ornament on 
arbors, old trees, fences, vases, etc., but 
where on walls or buildings, it should be an- 
nually clipped close, the month of June being 
the proper time to do it, when there will be 
time for it to make new foliage before the 
winter. If not pruned annually, they are apt 
to run into growth at the extremities, and 
get barren below if left unclipped. 
During October or November take good- 
sized cuttings, at least six inches in length, 
regardless of the number of joints, and insert 
five or six cuttings into each pot, using a 
mixture of soil and sand in equal propor- 
tions. The best method of performing the 
above operation is to fill the pots half full of 
soil, then insert the cuttings to the depth of 
one inch, just deep enough to make them 
stand upright, and when root action has 
taken place more soil may be added until 
the pot be filled with soil. It is best to have 
the soil of a rather dry texture, so that it 
will settle firmly between the cuttings by 
tapping the pot on the bench two or three 
times. As fast as the pots are filled with 
cuttings, they should be put into the propa- 
gating house and receive a good watering. 
The cuttings must not be allowed to wilt 
during any part of their propagation, as this is 
an important item to their well-being. While 
in the propagating house they must be kept 
sprayed and not subjected to strong draughts 
until root action has taken place. As soon as 
the cuttings have rooted they will begin to 
grow very freely, and if they are not neg- 
lected and are supplied with water when they 
require it, they will make fine, bushy plants 
by the following spring and in proper condi- 
tion for using in boxes, etc. When large 
plants are wanted, such as pyramids, baskets, 
etc., it is only necessary to take these same 
plants in the spring, cut them back pretty 
well and plant them out in the open ground, 
where by the following autumn they will 
have grown into extra strong clumps with 
six or more runners to each clump. They 
should then be taken up and crowded into 
six or seven- inch pots and tied up to strong 
stakes, and as soon as the plants have estab- 
lished themselves in this size pot, they are 
ready to be worked into any shape desired. 
Should the plants not grow large enough the 
first year for any particular purpose, they 
should be given another season’s growth in 
the open ground, which will result in extra 
heavy growth. Particular stress should be 
paid to watering the plants with liquid ma- 
nure, so as to encourage a quick growth. 
Ivy will stand any amount of frost, provided 
it is not given a southern exposure. Too 
much praise cannot be given this wonderful 
creeper as an object of beauty and utility. It 
can be used in every conceivable manner in 
any landscape, proving itself perfectly hardy. 
— Gardeners’ Chronicle. 
