^38 
JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. 
[ September 14, 1893. 
expect from glowing descriptions given in past times of the blue 
Disas at the Cape. It has, no doubt, been carefully determined, 
but several reliable authors mention D. lacera as having white or 
whitish jflowers. A few weeks ago I saw a plant of it in full 
flower.— Specialist. __ 
AN EXPERIMENT WITH SHANKING GRAPES, 
The above heading will no doubt catch the eye of some reader^ 
who have racked their brains to find a method for preventing 
shanking in Grapes. Let me at the outset disclaim any pretension 
of having solved the problem, because the same treatment applied 
under different conditions might produce totally different results. 
The Vines under notice are probably about forty years old, with 
their roots in a narrow inside border passing to an outside 
border. The varieties are Black Hamburgh except one Muscat 
Hamburgh and one Muscat of Alexandria. The house a lean-to 
adjoins the hall, which makes the use of strong natural manures 
objectionable. The outside border, originally a deep oblong space 
filled with fairly good soil and without any separating wall, 
is joined to a lawn, the latter having about a foot of light soil 
resting on a bed of clay. A few years ago an attempt was made to 
bring the roots nearer the surface. The old soil was taken out 
down to the clay, and a compost of chopped turf, half-inch bones, 
and old lime rubbish used in its stead, but with no appreciable 
effect with regard to the shanking. 
Last year about a dozen bunches were left unthinned, and these 
bunches had not a shanked berry in them. It was at once decided 
that this year’s crop should be left entirely unthinned. Anticipating 
the extra strain such a proceeding would entail on the Vines, steps 
were taken to meet it in the following manner. 
In the early part of November the borders were lightly forked 
over, and a heavy dressing of fresh cow manure applied. This was 
removed in February, and another supply afforded, which remained 
till the first week in May, when it was taken off and the borders 
again forked over. From that time till the fruit began colouring, 
the undiluted drainings of a cowshed were regularly poured on the 
borders. Tuesday and Friday in each week were the appointed 
days for this purpose, and adhered to. 
The result of this treatment is a magnificent crop of good 
bunches with medium-sized berries (no puny stoneless ones), 
excellent in flavour, but, as might be expected, deficient in colour. 
Against this defect I may add that they are much thinner-skinned 
than any Grapes I ever tasted. There are a few shanked berries 
here and there, but there are also dozens of bunches without a 
shanked berry in them, whereas in previous years there was not a 
bunch but was more or less affected by the disease. That dispensing 
altogether with the scissors has had something to do with the result 
I have no doubt; but my belief is that poverty at the root is the 
chief cause of shanking, and after the above experience I am more 
than ever inclined to agree with the Scotchman’s sage remark that 
“ Muck’s the gardener.”— Thos. Richaedson, The Gardens, 
Simonside Hall, South Shields. 
[We should like to hear what some of our Grape-growing readers 
have to say on this subject. We are inclined to think that Mr. 
Richardson, who gives such a clear account of his experiments, 
may, if he wishes, have Grapes free from shanking on thinned 
bunches in some not far distant future.] 
HARDY FLOWER NOTES. 
It is with mingled feelings of joy and of sadness that we view 
our own and other gardens when September has begun its brief 
course. The sadness comes unwillingly, but we cannot but fear that 
frost may come suddenly, depriving some gardens of their beautjL 
We are fain, however, to drink deeply of the cup of true pleasure 
while we may. Roses have been blooming with a freedom rarely 
seen ; Dahlias of various types have been brilliant in many gardens, 
and a beautiful band of flowers of many kinds which the florists’ 
art has made almost perfect have come and gone. As we look on 
these flowers we feel constrained to think with gratitude of the good 
and true florists who have sought to give better form and colour to 
the wildlings of Nature. Many of our garden flowers have been 
improved by art. Look upon the old white Phloxes, and compare 
them with such varieties as Panama, perfect in form and with larger 
flowers of purest white ; or compare the beauty of some of the old 
scarlet forms with such fine plants as Flambeau or Toreador, and we 
are forced to admit the gain is great. Nor is there any real anta¬ 
gonism between the hardy flowers fresh from Nature’s hand and 
those subjected to the florists’ art ; they dwell happily together. 
The charming Violetta and the beautiful Violas of the present day 
are vrelcome here beside such untutored flowers as the little Viola 
Zoysi or V. biflora. The garden in the autumn has much of interest 
besides those plants of improved form. All aglow with colour have 
been the golden composites which are, perhaps, too numerous, but 
whose beauty we cannot fail to recognise. Sunflowers, from the 
great flowered annual forms, which one would think were those of 
which Browning spoke when he said— 
“ Fancy the Pampas’ sheen 1 
Miles and miles of gold and green, 
Where the Sunflowers blow 
In a solid glow,” 
to the tall, but miniature-flowered Helianthus giganteus or the 
graceful decapetalus ; Heleniums, with charming flowers, graceful 
Coreopsis, golden Coneflowers, and those Silphiums which prove not 
true to their name of the Compass Plant ; these, with many others 
of similar hue and form, seem to have revelled in the sunlight of 
this brilliant year, and as the sun’s rays shine upon them they seem 
to be returning some of the brilliancy they have received. 
Among the most graceful of these Sunflowers is one which is 
grown under the name of Helianthus Buttaris (?), and which I saw in 
flower this year again. The habit of the plant is much like that of 
H. decapetalus, but it is taller in growth, slightly more graceful, and 
producing more flowers, which are barely 3 inches across. Looking 
at the plant one was forced to grieve at the fact that unless it could 
have been shown as a whole its beauty could never be properly seen 
at a flower show, and thus its graces could not be revealed to the 
people at large. Another beautiful yellow composite—for, despite 
some adverse criticism, I am still disposed to claim some beauty for 
the plant — is Chrysogonum virginianum, a flower not likely to 
be much seen at exhibitions, and one which, I fancy, one learns to 
appreciate from seeing day after day in bloom for months together. 
Here, in a rather low and damp position, and receiving a good supply 
of water in the dry season, a plant has, for two or more years, 
become more and more attractive in my eyes. It is neat and dwarf 
in habit; in some books the height is given as 6 inches, but here it 
grows to 10 or 12 inches. The leaves arc rather ovate and serrated, 
and the flowers, though small, being barely H inch across, are pretty 
in colour, being a bright yellow, approaching orange. It is a native 
of the United States, but I can find no record of the date of its 
introduction. The free and continuous flowering habit of C. virgini¬ 
anum, blooming as it does from May onward, will always render it 
acceptable in the garden of hardy flowers. 
While the yellow composites are perhaps predominant in the 
autumn, we must strive to give other shades of colour and other 
forms of flower to adorn the borders, and, so far as regards colour, 
the fine blooms of Rudbeckia or Echinacea purpurea are always 
objects of admiration. It is gratifying to find that it is being 
increasingly grown, and that wherever seen it is much admired. The 
flowers, which are about 4 inches across, are what one might call a 
red purple, and are tipped at the ends with a greenish or grey-green 
colour. This is a defect, but it is possible that this might disappear 
in the case of some of the plants raised from seed, and it is to be 
hoped that this improvement may be attained. The leaves are rather 
rough and slightly toothed, and the plant grows in some cases 5 or 
6 feet in height. There seem to be at least two distinct forms 
grown under this name, and the plant is said to vary much from 
seed. Any that I have seen may be divided into two varieties, one 
with broader leaves and petals, and more robust in growth, and 
another considerably inferior, although very pretty also. Some three 
or four Echinaceas are in cultivation, but purpurea, or what passes 
as such, is the one most frequently met with. It thrives freely in 
any good open soil, and can be increased by seeds or division. More 
might be said about these desirable plants, but others must have 
notice at the present time. 
Exceedingly useful in the autumn, and valuable from its contrast 
in colour and form with the composites, is one of the numerous 
varieties of the Veronicas—V. corymbosa, which, with its corymbose 
spikes of deep purple-blue flowers, is extremely attractive and 
distinct. The name is given with all reserve, as the Veronicas are 
in hopeless confusion ; but it came to me from a Dumbartonshire 
garden under this name, which is quite applicable. I should, how¬ 
ever, be glad if anyone who can recognise the plant from this brief 
description can give me any further information about it, and correct 
the name if erroneous. It must not, however, be confounded with 
V. corymbiflora, a dwarfer species or variety, and one of the most 
valuable of our autumn flowers for the rock garden. V. corymbosa 
grows here rather less than 2 feet in height, but in strong soils 
should grow rather taller. The leaves, which are of the usual 
Veronica type, are bright green above and slightly downy below. 
It grows freely in ordinary soil, and requires no care. According to 
Paxton, V. corymbosa is synonymous with V. polystachia, which, it 
appears, was introduced in 1817, but whence no information is given. 
A note on hardy flowers at the beginning of September, when this 
is written, would be incomplete without at least a passing reference 
to the simple beauty of the hardy Cyclamen in full blossom on the 
rockery. Here the marbled foliage and charming flowers of 
