JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. 
22 4 
[ September 8, 1881. 
Bennett, Fritz Muller, and above all Hermann Miillerand Darwin 
himself. The general result is, that to insects, and especially to 
bees, we owe the beauty of our gardens, the sweetness of our fields. 
To their beneficent though unconscious action flowers owe their 
scent and colour, their honey—nay, in many cases their form. 
Their present shape and varied arrangements, their brilliant 
colours, their honey, and their sweet scent, are all due to the selec¬ 
tion exercised by insects. In these cases the relation between 
plants and insects is one of mutual advantage. In many species, 
however, plants present us with complex arrar gements adapted to 
protect them from insects ; and within the last few years Darwin, 
Hooker, and others have shown that many species have curious 
and very varied contrivances for supplying themselves with animal 
food.” _ 
BEDDING PLANTS AND THE WEATHER. 
Although, perhaps, of secondary importance, it is, to say the 
least, very annoying to see the labour of many months not merely 
spoilt but positively rendered unsightly by the continued preva¬ 
lence of wet weather, and this, too, at a time when many of us 
are most anxious to have things at their best. The start made in 
the first instance was not very encouraging, as many of the more 
tender kinds were much injured by the late frosts ; next, the long 
spell of dry weather militated against many kinds; and now, 
when everything was beginning to brighten, comes the “damper.” 
The result, with a few notable exceptions, such as Violas, Verbena 
venosa, and Begonias, is the absence of bloom, especially in the 
case of Pelargoniums and Petunias, and unusual and unwished-for 
vigorous growth in the case of Lobelias, Ageratums, Verbenas, and 
Heliotropes, the whole presenting more the appearance of breaking- 
up time than August. This, no doubt, is the general experience, 
though perhaps those in more open and drier positions do not 
look so woe-begone as in our and other cases, where the gardens 
are hemmed in with trees and otherwise sheltered, thus inducing 
a less sturdy and floriferous growth. 
My object, however, in penning these lines is not because I am 
in a grumbling humour, but more especially with the intention of 
directing attention to the carpet beds, which in our case are the 
only bright spots in the general desolation. Carpet beds we were 
bound to have ; and although at one time I begrudged the time 
and space necessarily devoted to the propagation and putting out 
the plants, I am now very glad I carried out my employer’s 
wishes to the fullest extent possible. The comparative superior 
attractiveness of the carpet beds, ordinary as they certainly are, 
was apparent some time since, but was most strikingly so on my 
return from a week’s trip in the midlands. Among the various 
plants employed in these Pyrethrum Golden Feather was the only 
kind to fail, these having damped off largely. Lobelias I seldom 
use m carpet beds. Echeverias of sorts, Pachyphytons, Kleinias, 
Mesembryanthemums, Sedums in variety, Coleuses, Iresines, and 
Alternantheras, all appear uninjured. Of the latter, and which 
are really indispensable, A. spectabilis is the brightest in colour— 
a very effective rich crimson ; and A. paronychyoides aurea, a 
comparatively scarce variety and a great favourite in Hyde Park, 
of which 1 fortunately had a good stock, is also decidedly effec¬ 
tive, being bright yellow in colour and of neat habit. A. paro¬ 
nychyoides major is also well coloured, but the same cannot be 
said of A. paronychyoides. To these varieties 1 hope next season 
to add A. versicolor grandis, this being vigorous in growth and 
rich in colour, and therefore suitable for filling-in central figures. 
It must not be inferred from these brief remarks I am an en¬ 
thusiast on the subject of carpet beds. On the contrary, I would 
reduce the number of these in many gardens, turf over all 
elaborately planned flower gardens, and disperse a few plain beds 
about the grounds, whether this be strictly in keeping with the 
surroundings or not. Some of these should then be filled with 
carpeting plants, both because agreeable to employers’ wishes and 
also because most pleasing to the generality of visitors, of whose 
good opinion I am not yet disposed to affect indifference. There 
is no disguising the fact that carpet beds are the first to be attrac¬ 
tive and the last to succumb to the effects of unfavourable weather 
whenever experienced. 
Mesesibryanthemum Propagation. — In my remarks on 
“Autumn Propagation of Bedding Plants,” page 171, I omitted 
mention of Mesembryanthemum cordifolium variegatum, and as 
this is deservedly a popular bedding plant I will now rectify the 
mistake. The cuttings of these in common with other plants of a 
similarly succulent nature will, if subjected to a close moist atmo¬ 
sphere and shaded, invariably damp off. Our plan is to fill well- 
drained 5 or 6-inch pots with light sandy soil, and to dibble in 
the cuttings thinly. They are then placed on a shelf exposed to 
the sun in a heated house, and no water given till the cuttings 
are seen to be freshening up or are callussed. To water them 
before the cuts are healed would undoubtedly result in a bad 
strike. I ought perhaps to state the cuttings are. about 3 inches 
long. Many kinds of succulents may be placed on a shelf till the 
cuts are healed, but the Mesembryanthemums would curl, thus 
rendering it impossible to dibble them in. An ordinary stove 
temperature is suitable for wintering them, and they will not re¬ 
quire much moisture at the roots ; still less must be given if the 
attempt is made to keep them in a cool house.—W. I. M. 
MR. A. PETTIGREW. 
As both gardeners and bee-keepers have frequently requested 
us to publish the portrait of Mr. Pettigrew, who has for many 
years been a contributor to our gardening and apiarian columns, 
we submit what to a great number of visitors to the Manchester 
Show will be a recognisable likeness. We insert this in our 
gardening columns, because, as will be seen by the following auto¬ 
biography, Mr. Pettigrew is at least as much a gardener as an 
apiarian, and what he has written has been intended especially 
for the perusal and benefit of young gardeners, who may pre¬ 
sumably derive some useful lessons from a long, varied, and 
not unsuccessful career. 
AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY'. 
Though fully convinced that biographies and autobiographies are, 
generally speaking, imperfect, I have, in a moment of weakness, 
consented to give a short account of myself in the pages of the 
Journal of Horticulture. At once let me say that it is a hard task 
for me to think about, a difficult work for me to perform. 
Some time after the battle of Waterloo I first saw the light in the 
village of Carluke in the centre of Lanarkshire. My father was 
from the age of twenty to thirty a common labourer, and it may be 
safely stated that during those years he was the most advanced and 
most successful bee-keeper in Great Britain. During those ten years 
he saved, as the results of bee-keeping, £300 or £400, wherewith he 
bought the “ Black Bull Inn” and commenced the business of selling 
drink. The surroundings of my early life were, therefore, disadvan¬ 
tageous. I had to live in an atmosphere not favourable to the growth 
of moral feelings or tending to give direction to enlightened pursuits. 
As I grew up 1 disliked nothing so much as school lessons, and was 
a great dunce, almost always at the bottom of the class. When I 
was about eight or ten years of age my father became a butcher, 
and sold beef and mutton as well as whiskey, and I assisted in the 
business. Thus my early days were spent. My father continued 
to keep bees, and his success encouraged many around him to do the 
same. Ever since his day (he died in 1843), and during his time, 
bee-keeping has been a source of pleasure and profit to many working 
men in "Carluke and the adjoining parishes. The bee-keepers there 
now are numerous and successful, and the annual yield of honey is 
satisfactory. In early life I imbibed my father’s love of bee-keeping, 
and learned all he could teach me, and eventually the management 
of his bees was left to me. 
When about the age of eighteen I went to Carstairs House to learn 
gardening, paying £5 as an apprentice fee. During my three years 
there I was permitted to dig, mow, and to do the routine work of the 
gardens, but no encouragement to read and study was given me. My 
first master at Carstairs had been head man for fifty-six years. He 
had three apprentices at a time, and was not satisfied with having 
their £5 fees, but he kept 6s. a week of their wages. This was dis¬ 
covered, and the old gardener was dismissed on a pension of £20 a 
year. He died in a few weeks after. It is now forty-six years since 
I went to Carstairs, and I look back with regret to the three years 
I wasted there, chiefly by my own folly and partly by the want of 
interest on the part of my two masters. 
I left Scotland a conceited young man. Arriving in London in the 
beginning of 1839 I was sent by Mr. Hugh Low of Clapton to Lord 
Mansfield’s garden near Hampstead, and there I found young men— 
apprentices of nine months’ standing—that knew more of gardening 
and possessed more intelligence than I did. This discovery was 
healthful and stimulating. Fortunately for me “ Cobbett’s Advice 
to Young Men” fell into my hands about this time. Opportune and 
good advice it gave me—the first advice I ever had. It made me 
thoughtful, and induced me to study English grammar, so that I 
could speak in a passable manner. Before I saw this book I could 
not put three sentences together correctly. I owe much to Cobbett’s 
“Advice to Young Men ” and his “ English Grammar,” which latter 
book is meant to teach the sailor and ploughboy how best to use their 
mother tongue and speak correctly. That was the turning point of 
my life. I began to study horticulture in books as well as in the 
garden, and read the best writers on the subject. My desire for know¬ 
ledge increased. My evenings were spent in reading scientific works 
on gardening and farming. The latest works on chemistry, physio¬ 
logy, and natural philosophy were greedily read. Th atres and public 
houses were neglected. Two years of “ my glorious youthful prime ” 
were spent but not wasted at Hampstead. I was fortunate in know- 
