148 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST, 
Is not this a picture of real enjoyment—en¬ 
joyment such as can be found only when sur¬ 
rounded with rural scenes! The dwelling, the 
rustic fence, and other features in the engraving, 
show that these persons are in humble life, but 
was ever a royal family happier than this pair 1 
Their little ones are as dear to their hearts, as if 
“ princes born.” How much the charm of the 
picture is [lightened by the taste displayed in sur¬ 
rounding their cottage with running vines that 
cling in loving embrace to the rudely latticed 
porch. That potted plant in the window speaks 
a volume concerning the taste that manages and 
adorns the inner temple. Aside from the imme¬ 
diate pleasure every one must derive from look¬ 
ing at rural pictures like this—pictures we love 
to present—we trust they may also develope a 
stronger attachment to, and desire for country life, 
and also lead to more attention being bestowed 
upon such cheap, easily obtained, but attractive 
adornments, as may be secured by planting a few 
seeds and roots, and training them around every 
rural dwelling. 
Dahlia Culture—Details of Experience- 
To the Editor of the American Agriculturist: 
I take pleasure in the cultivation of flowers and 
vegetables, and find the perusal of the Agricultur¬ 
ist instructive and interesting. Feeling a sympa¬ 
thy with your “ crestfallen ” correspondent in his 
“ troubles with Dahlias ”—as detailed on page 52 
(Feb. No.)—I will give him the benefit of my ex¬ 
perience. Several years ago, when residing on 
the west branch of the Susquehanna, a friend pre¬ 
sented me with two large sprouted tubers, which 
had been grown in a rich sandy soil the previous 
year, and sprouted in a hot bed. The sprouts 
looked vigorous ; we carried them twelve miles 
very carefully in a covered basket—planted them 
in a stiff clay soil (our garden was new). We 
pursued your favorite plan of transplanting_dig¬ 
ging a bole deeper than necessary for the plant, 
| pouring in water plentifully, introducing the plant 
at the proper depth, and filling up with dry earth. 
They were shaded with two shingles or thin 
boards, stuck into the ground at one end and 
meeting at the other over the top of the plants, 
to protect them from the sun east and west, with¬ 
out excluding air. They never drooped, but grew 
slowly, bloomed late, and though full of buds, on¬ 
ly a few flowers opened before they were killed 
by frost. The ground was too poor and stiff. 
We procured sand from the bed of a stream, dried 
it carefully on the kitchen stove, by spreading a 
small quantity at the time on an old tin tea-waiter, 
and then kept the sand in a dry place till 
needed. 
As soon as the dahlia tops were killed by frost, 
we cut off the stalks about six inches above the 
ground, and took the roots up when Ihe ground 
was dry. The bottom of a box, which was a little 
wider than the roots, was covered with the dry 
sand, and the roots placed in just as they were 
taken from the ground. They were put a little 
distance apart, and the sand poured in until 
the roots were covered. A bit of pasteboard 
was tied to each stalk, to distinguish the va¬ 
riety. They were left in the kitchen till freez¬ 
ing weather commenced, and then removed to 
the cellar. 
About the middle of February we took fresh 
horse-manure from the stable, mixed it with an 
equal proportion of garden loam that had been 
in the cellar during the Winter, and put it into 
the box, first removing the roots, and then plac¬ 
ing them back exactly as before, and filling up 
the box to where the stem united with the tu¬ 
bers, with garden loam mixed with a small pro¬ 
portion of the sand. The box was placed near 
the kitchen window, where the plants had the 
benefit of the morning sun. The earth was 
kept moist, hut not muddy. They soon pro¬ 
duced strong, healthy sprouts. In March they 
were removed thirty miles in a packet-hoat, and 
kept growing in the house, until the Spring 
frosts were over. The “parsonage” had a 
large yard, without ornament, except the green 
sward ; the ground had been thrown o-ut of a 
cellar, and was hard and gravelly. We removed 
the sod about a yard square, and for each plant 
dug a hole 2|- feet square, and about the same 
depth. Each hole received half a wheel-barrow 
load of horse-manure and a bucket of water, and 
was then filled up with garden loam, leaving the 
surface a little lower than the surrounding ground. 
We then removed the roots carefully from the 
box, and with a sharp knife split the stalks, so as 
to leave one sprout to each tuber, and planted five 
of the largest in the holes prepared as above. 
My husband then made for me strong frames, by 
sharpening four rough scantling, and driving 
around each plant about 2 feet apart, nailing lath 
on each side to support, the branches—these were 
whitewashed. The plants grew very rapidly, and 
relieved Ihe monotony of the yard. The few cold 
nights we had after planting, we threw a cloth 
over the frames. "We weeded and loosened the 
ground around the roots frequently. 
In dry weather we watered them every even¬ 
ing after sun-down, with water exposed to the 
sun during the day-—at first by pouring and 
sprinkling over the plants, and when they grew 
too high, by watering at the root. Dahlias re¬ 
quire warmth and moisture—T prefer a sunny site. 
They grew remarkably tall, with stalks like small 
trees, luxuriant branches projecting in every 
direction through the frames, and presenting a 
beautiful appearance ; the flowers were abundant 
and perfect, without the dry leaves at the stem, 
which so often disfigure the flowers. They con¬ 
tinued in full bloom until the snow came. The 
weather was mild that Autumn, and we spread 
sheets on them when the first frosts nipped 
vegetation. 
We were assured that it was useless to take so 
much care in preserving the roots, that they 
would keep in the cellar like potatoes; we made 
the experiment, and they all rotted. We pro¬ 
cured new plants, and cultivated them the same 
way next year. They did well, but we took them 
up when the ground was wet, laid them on a 
balcony to dry in the sun, where they were left 
until the tubers had withered—then put into dry 
sand, and placed in a room over the kitchen, 
where a stove-pipe passed through. When taken 
out, they were completely dried up, and never ve¬ 
getated. Since then we have pursued the first 
described method—with unfailing success. The 
principal difficulty is in preserving the roots dur¬ 
ing the Winter; when sprouted they are very 
tenacious of life. An “Itinerant’s” Wife. 
Adams Co., Pa., 1S59. 
- —«»»—-.-•»- 
Morning Glories for Paint! 
We saw last summer, an old building, standing 
in the rear of a tenant house, which was used for 
a wash-room and wood-house. A friend of ours, 
who rented the premises, temporarily, made it 
a real ornament to the whole place, at an ex¬ 
pense of but a few cents worth of twine and seed, 
and an hour or two of time. The landlord not 
choosing to paint the building, our friend procured 
an ounce or so of Morning Glory seed, and sowed 
close along the side of the building. When they 
were up, the vines were trained on twine leaders, 
about eight inches apart, up to the very peak of 
the roof. We have rarely seen a more beautiful 
sight than they presented when the foliage en¬ 
tirely covered the building, and the flowers ap¬ 
peared in bloom. Paint or whitewash could not 
equal it, nor half so thoroughly hide the weather¬ 
worn, moss covered old building. 
