1.78 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
[June. 
.and, with slight protection, but would not proba¬ 
bly endure our northern Winters. It should be 
taken up before frost, and wintered in a green¬ 
house or light cellar.” 
A Floral Cariosity. 
To obtain (lowers of different colors on the 
same stem (or apparently so,) split a small branch 
of elder lengthwise, and having scraped out the 
pith, put into each part some good soil, mixing 
with it several seeds of different plants, but which 
bloom at the same time. Then tie the split pieces 
together, and set them out in a pot or box filled 
with mold. The seeds will soon germinate, and 
the plants grow up together with their stems and 
branches and leaves so intermingled, that to the 
common observer they will appear to grow from 
the same root. 
-- .--a ftim -* «=■- 
Talk at the Gate. 
EDGINGS FOR FLOWER DEDS-SPARING THE BIRDS. 
John —Before you go, brother gardener, do tell 
me why you don’t like grass for bordering flow¬ 
er beds! 
Gardener. —I have no prejudice against it ; only, 
I must say that having tried it a long time, I have 
at length discarded it, as not quite answering my 
purpose. 
John. — But why! I have tried box, and while 
it is very neat, don’t sucker and spread, as grass 
does, and is easily trimmed, and has evergreen 
foliage, I have, after all, condemned it, because 
with me, in central New-York, it is not perfectly 
hardy, has to be protected in Winter, and even 
then, it looks in Spring like a singed cat. Be¬ 
sides, it is so stiff and prim, like a precise, old 
bachelor. I have gone back to grass—not, mind 
you, to quack grass, nor timothy, nor red clover, 
but to fine, delicate June grass, cut from the 
roadside after being pastured close by sheep. 
Gardener. —Well, every one to his mind. I 
have lately used the common Stone-crop, and I 
like it well. Hardy as grass, evergreen, has no 
long roots to burrow into your beds and gravel- 
walks, and needs only an occasional trimming 
with your spade to keep it in order. It burns out 
a little in spots in mid-summer, but such gaps can 
easily be made good. 
John —1 must take a look at your borders some 
day when I have leisure ; perhaps I shall learn 
something to my advantage. Have the birds 
eaten all your cherries this Summer, or have you 
eaten the birds! 
Gardener's Wife (approaching).—Did I hear 
you say the birds ought to be killed, because they 
eat a little of our fruit! 
The Men. —No, not exactly so ; but then why 
should’nt they be killed, if they do us harm, as 
well as the crows and rats and mice! Self-pres¬ 
ervation is the first law of nature, you know. 
Wife. —But then, the song-birds are so pretty, 
and so innocent, and sing so sweetly : why not 
let them take their pay in a few cherries and 
strawberries ! 
Men. —Ah* if they were innocent of stealing, or 
if they only took a little, and of such kinds as we 
dould spare, the case would he different. Dear 
lady, make a difference here. Some birds steal, 
but are poor singers, and devour few insects. 
Others take our fruits, but try to balance accounts 
by keeping down the insects in our fields, or¬ 
chards, and gardens, 'flic first set may be shot 
down without compunction ; the latter should be 
shot at- without shot ! 
Wife. —Glad to see some mercy in you naugh- 
y men ; but you’re a little cruel yet. 
Men .—The birds are weleome-to the seeds and 
fruits of all the weeds and briars and bushes that 
grow in the fields and woods; but when they 
come to plunder our garden fruits, which cost us 
so much money and labor, then they become our 
enemies; they are a nuisance as truly as the 
crows which pull up the corn in our fields, or the 
rats and mice who devour it in our barns. We 
will spare the robins just as long as possible, but 
when their plunderings become enormous, why 
then we must blaze away at them. Eh ! lady. 
Wife .—I can’t bear with you, and can’t agree 
with you ; it’s barbarous to touch the robin-red¬ 
breast. 
Men .—Good woman, we’ll spare the birds who 
spare our fruits, as the swallow, blue-bird, martin, 
wren, and the whole tribe of sparrows ; they are 
our best friends, devouring insects but not fruits. 
Wife .—I came out to the gate, to invite you in 
to supper, but really, I don’t want such cruel, 
bloody men at my table. Good bye. 
Men. —Farewell, angel! 
Gardener —Before you go, John, look at this 
cut which I found in the “ Gardener’s Chronicle.” 
It is a proposed substitute for 
our grass,box and stone-crop, 
as a bordering for beds. It 
represents a section of earth¬ 
en tile, which is much used 
in England for edging. It is certainly better than 
bricks set on edge; it can be made for about 
eight or ten cents a yard. 
John. —Really, it strikes me favorably. I wish 
some of our brielc or tile-makers would take this 
pattern and make some for our gardens. They 
would be popular. 
Both .—Good bye. 
- - >-»- 
For the American Agriculturist. 
The Wren. 
The American House-Wren, Troglodytes ful- 
vus of Naturalists, is different in his migratory 
habits from the European Wren, which is a con¬ 
stant resident in his native regions , while our 
House Wren is never seen in the Middle and 
Northern States during the Winter season. It 
resides South in cold weather, and in Summer ex¬ 
tends its migrations as far north as Labrador, 
where it also breeds, although it is said to reside 
and rear its young chiefly in the Middle States; 
but it is not uncommon in most parts of New- 
England, and, without doubt, its breeding places 
are not confined to high latitudes. It arrives with 
us in May, and returns south as early as the first 
of October, and as it rears two broods of young 
in one season, its song is prolonged to a late pe¬ 
riod in Summer—often to the middle or last of 
August. The nest of the Wren is built like that 
of the Blue-bird, in the crevice of an old wall, 
the hole of a bank or cliff, and in hollow trees ; 
but if you take pains to provide a box or some 
similar accommodation for it, the Wren can be 
very easily prevailed on to have its home within the 
inclosure thus made. The nest is oval shaped, 
with the entrance at the side, and is generally 
built of moss, with an inner lining of feathers. 
The eggs are from six to eight in number, of a 
pure white color, sparsely dotted with light red. 
The Wren is an insectivorous bird, its food con¬ 
sisting chiefly of grubs, earth worms, all the in¬ 
sects whieh are the common food of birds of this 
class, together with elderberries and other pulpy 
wild fruits. 
In England, the common Wren, and also the 
golden-crested Wren, are much admired as cage 
birds. The former, when confined, is lively anil 
engaging, sings loudly, and nearly the whole sea¬ 
son, though it seldom lives more than two years. 
It is not natural for them to be shut up, they en¬ 
joy too much the freedom of the woods, and the 
delightful air of heaven—what bird, indeed, does 
not! 
Writers upon ornithology call this bird one of 
the most active and restless of the feathered 
tribe. He is always in motion, and even when 
singing is constantly flitting about and changing 
his position, seeming to be in all places at the 
same moment. His notes are very lively and 
garrulous, and are more noticeable at noon than 
any other hour of the day ; because, says Mr. 
Flagg, the general silence that prevails at this 
hour, renders his voice more distinguishable 
than at other times. Of the song of the Wren, 
Mr. Flagg, (Atlantic Monthly, vol. II., page 598,) 
says : “ He exhibits great compass and power of 
execution, but wants variety in his tones. He 
begins very sharp and shrill, like a grass-hopper, 
then suddenly falls to a series of low gutteral 
notes, and ascends like the roll of a drum to an¬ 
other series of high notes rapidly trilled. He is 
not particular about the part of the song which 
he makes his closing note, but will leave off right 
in the middle of a strain, when he appears to be 
in the liight of ecstacy, to pick up a spider or a 
fly.” 
The characteristics of the Wren—a cocked-up 
tail, and busy inquisitive look—are well shown 
by the sketch at the head of this article. 
Brookdale Farm, 3Ie. S. I. Tt 
Don’t forget the Evergreens, 
At this season, when all nature is robed in her 
summer dress, we are apt to forget those trees 
which enliven the dreary months of the year. 
Look back a month or two, and all was bleak and 
brown, except as the evergreens made bright 
spots here and there. Look forward only a few 
months, and all will be bare and cheerless again, 
save where the steadfast conifers hold out and 
hold on to their verdure. Let us not forget these 
old stand-bys, these friends in adversity. Plant, 
if you choose, the gay, butterfly flowers; plant 
the deciduous trees, whose leaves begin to fade 
and drop almost as soon as they are fairly ex¬ 
panded ; but by all means give large room and 
plenty of time and labor to the ever-during ever¬ 
greens. 
When a traveler, or visitor of rural tastes, stops 
at a country-place, he wishes to visit its gardens 
and ornamental grounds ; but where there are no 
evergreens, there is very little to see, except in 
mid-summer. Let each proprietor of a house in 
the country, take pride in having on his place at 
least a few fine specimens of evergreens, and his 
home will be an object of interest to himself, his 
household, and his tasteful visitors, all the year 
round. He can say to his guests, come when 
they may, 11 Let us walk around and look at my 
noble Norway Spruces, my stately Pines, my 
graceful Hemlocks,” and the guests will be as 
glad to look at them, as to examine a row of pear 
trees or grape-vines in summer. 
Nor do we plead for them simply on account 
of their permanency, or their usefulness as 
