228 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
[June, 
flowers there in January and February. It is a 
member of the great Ranunculus Family, as may 
be inferred from the resemblance of its flowers to 
those of the Anemones. It is not very near the 
Aconites, but more closely related to the Hellebores 
(Christmas Rose, etc.), indeed the earlier botanists 
placed it in Hellebwus, from which it differs but little. 
A Ladder for the Orchard. 
In the course of years we have published many 
styles of fruit or orchard ladders ; some of these 
were for the conversion of an ordinary ladder, into 
one suited for orchard work, and others have been 
special contrivances, useful for fruit picking, and 
for scarcely anything else. We now give one for 
which a very neat sketch and the measurements 
were sent by “ A. C.,” who, while he gave his full 
name, omitted to write his address, and we only 
know from the more than usually blind post-mark, 
that he is somewhere in Illinois. The engraving 
plainly shows the affair—a ladder mounted upon a 
two-wheeled wheelbarrow. The brief directions 
point out the following points to be observed in 
building it. The axle for the wheels, in order to 
give as broad a base as possible, and avoid the dan¬ 
ger of its tipping sidewise, should be as long as 
will allow it to pass through the gates upon the 
farm. To avoid tipping forward, it should be so 
built that a plumb-line dropped from the top of the 
ladder will strike the axle. The shafts ( C ) should 
hinge under the axle, near to the wheels; where 
they are bolted to the ladder the holes should be 
large to give some play, and they should extend far 
enough back to afford convenient handles. The 
standards, B, are bolted to the shafts, C, at a point 
one-third the distance from the axle to the foot of 
the ladder, and are attached to the ladder at a point 
three-fourths of its length from the base. Our cor¬ 
respondent writes that if one has a pair of wheels, 
such a ladder will cost from $2 to S3, more than a 
common one, and gives it as his experience that 
“it beats the world in an orchard or a stack yard.” 
The European Dog’s-Tooth Violet. 
(See Engraving , Page 227.) 
Probably no wild flower is better known than our 
native Dog’s-tooth Violet, or Adder’ s-tongue, Ery- 
thronium Americanum. This, though beautiful in 
itself, suffers by comparison with E. Dens-canis , a 
native of Continental Europe, and found even as 
far north as Siberia. As compared with our species, 
the leaves in this are shorter, more strongly blotched 
with reddish-brown spots, while the flower is more 
open and of beautiful shades of rose-purple, which 
are darker without than within. The engraving 
shows the form, but of course fails to give the 
color of this beautiful early spring flower—and is 
also less than the natural size, the flower stems be¬ 
ing usually six inches high. There are varieties 
with white, rose, and flesh-colored flowers, but none 
of them, to our notion, equal the ordinary form in 
beauty. This is one of those little gems which one 
can not properly describe without seeming extrava¬ 
gant over it. We content ourselves by saying that 
it is simply beautiful, and that no one who has 
formed an idea of it from the most enthusiastic de¬ 
scription, will be disappointed in the reality. This 
is one of the common flowers of Europe that, like 
the Winter Aconite,—described elsewhere, we have 
tried for years to grow from the bulbs imported by 
dealers without success. A few years ago a cor¬ 
respondent in England sent us some bulbs, packed 
with other plants, which came without having been 
dried, and grew freely. Our two or three plants 
from this source only caused a desire for more. 
Last fall we procured from a dealer, an original 
package of the bulbs, just as they were put up in 
sand, and which had not been exposed to the dry¬ 
ing influences of our autumn air ; these were 
planted last fall, and this spring made a most satis¬ 
factory show. The only hope our plant-lovers have 
of growing this, or the Winter Aconite is, to obtain 
from the dealers bulbs which have not been ex¬ 
posed, or to procure fresh bulbs from such florists 
as grow them, and may be able to supply them 
fresh from the soil. Its earliness and real beauty 
make it a most desirable plant—not the less desir¬ 
able here because it is common abroad—and we 
think that our florists will find it to their advantage 
to offer bulbs that have not been subjected to the 
risk of drying. Why such an unmistakable lily¬ 
like plant should be called a Violet, and if a Violet, 
why a Dog’s-tooth, is a puzzle that we will not now 
undertake to solve—suffice it to say that the name 
is, through long usage, thoroughly attached to 
the plant, and those who prefer this uncouth 
English name to Erythronium, are welcome to it. 
Notes from the Pines. 
When I began this series I did not intend to write 
every month; the good friends who, whenever a 
gap occurred, were so kind as to write and inquire 
the cause of the omission, have by this time learned 
that I intend to be regularly irregular. I started 
with the intention of writing only when I had some¬ 
thing to say. It must be most irksome to write 
every month, whether one has grist to the mill or 
not. This time I have something to say—and it is 
About a Wild Garden. 
I wish I were sure that this could catch the eye 
and have the attention of the many who really love 
flowers, but, for one reason or another, have no gar¬ 
den. With many who live in the country, a flower 
garden is something to come in that future when 
there shall be “time.” Many a country dweller 
who intends to have a garden, looks upon it as 
an undertaking that requires an outlay of time, 
labor, and money. It is to be in the good time 
coming, and in the meantime he gratifies his 
love for flowers by occasional rambles to see 
what the woods, the meadows, and the coppices 
afford him. Now suppose that instead of tramping 
for some miles for a few wild flowers, these could 
all be found—not only these, but a great many 
more—all w ithin the area of a few yards ! Would 
he not rejoice at it. This is just 
The Idea of a Wild Garden. 
A nook somewhere—not already too much crowd¬ 
ed with natural growth, where the roots of trees 
and shrubs will take all that the soil has to give— 
but a good bit of unoccupied soil. Here put all the 
native flowers that are desirable, with a whole host 
of the hardy plants from other countries. There 
are few farms that do not afford such a spot—no 
matter if it be at a distance from the house ; this 
garden has not to be watered, watched, and tended. 
But there may be those who, like myself, prefer to 
make a wild garden. Our wooded hill-side is too far 
off, though that is more or less planted,and even the 
pasture has a corner penned off for moisture-loving 
plants. There is not much wild about my wild gar¬ 
den save the plants. The hen-house and the boun¬ 
dary fence make a corner. The fence is hidden by 
a row of closely planted evergreens. The side of 
the hen-house is made “wild” by a drapery of 
Virginia Creeper and American Wistaria, and in 
this corner, well away from fence and hen-house is 
A Hock-work. 
This rockery, of the stones at hand, was made 
with but one thing in view—growing plants. It 
would defy any geologist to account for its upheav¬ 
al, especially as it is mainly of new red-sandstone, 
the worst of all rocks for the purpose, but all that 
we had. Of natural rock-scenery there is little, but 
of cracks and crevices there are many. The ground 
around the rockery, for some distance, forms a part 
of the wild garden. Last fall, a goodly collection 
of plants came from European correspondents, but 
I was away when they were planted, so this spring 
I had not only the pleasure of seeing the plants, 
hut of making new discoveries. I have read of an 
eccentric literary man—whose name I have forgot¬ 
ten, who was very fond of confectionary; one of 
his oddities was, to hide sugar-plums and the like, 
in all sorts of odd places, that he might enjoy the 
pleasure of finding them unexpectedly. My first 
visit this spring to the wild garden reminded me 
of him, in discovering new plants in unexpected 
places, and could understand his satisfaction over 
his discoveries of hidden sweets. While there are 
Enough Wild Flowers 
in almost every locality to make the wild garden at¬ 
tractive, and one is worth having for these only, 
there are a great many from other countries that 
are able to make themselves quite at home, and be¬ 
come naturalized just as easily as do the human 
inhabitants of those countries when transplanted 
to our soil. Of course the wild garden will have a 
succession from early spring until the frost puts an 
end to all bloom, and this mentioning of those that 
greeted my first visit, is intended only to show 
some of the early blooming plants that may be in¬ 
troduced. At the foot of the rock-work was 
A Sheet of Brilliant White. 
Can anything be more beautiful than this?—Yet 
it was only our common Blood-root ( Sanguinaria 
Canadensis) that may be had almost anywhere for 
the digging. Near by, that best of early spring 
bulbs, Bulbocodium vemum, earlier than Crocus, 
and in a mass more showy, had nearly gone out of 
flower... .Another charming early native is 
The Rue Anemone, 
Thalictrum anemonoides, delicate in foliage,and habit, 
and bearing an abundance of its tiny white flowers 
which have not the brilliant opaque white of those 
of the Blood-root, but quite as pleasing in their 
way. This is one of the few flowers that show a 
tendency to become double in their wild state. I 
have a number of times found this partly double, 
and several years ago a friend in England sent me 
a full-double, and a charming thing it is.—But 
speaking of doubles, I know of none of our wild 
plants that makes such beautiful double flowers as 
The Hepatica or Liver-Leaf. 
Ilepalica triloba is the botanical name by which it 
is generally known, but European botanists place 
it in the already too large genus Anemone, and call 
it Anemone Hepatica. It is common in the woods, 
at least in all the Eastern States, flowering as soon 
as the snow is off. It is also a native of Europe, 
and the Europeans have secured a number of dou¬ 
ble forms in a variety of colors. I have found it, 
wild, from nearly a pure white to the deepest blue, 
but never saw any tendency to double. The 
doubles must be imported; they qo not appear 
to be easy to manage, but are worth any amount of 
trouble. There are double white, pink, red, blue, 
and purple, with intermediate shades, and each 
one a gem in itself. I am glad to notice that some 
of our dealers in hardy plants are giving attention 
to these double Hcpaticas. I find that we have 
quite a collection of native and foreign species of 
Erythronium or Dogr’s-tooth Violet; 
these are not violets, or at all like them, but are 
little lily-like flowers. Another name has been 
proposed for our native species—Adder’s Tongue— 
probably on account of its broad spotted leaves, 
which are not at all lik,e the tongue of an adder or 
any other snake. Our common Erythronium Ameri¬ 
canum is welcome, but when it comes to the ques¬ 
tion of beauty the European E. Dens- Canis, is far 
ahead of it. In beautiful contrast to this is the 
White Dog’s-Tooth Violet, rare at the East, but 
