330 
JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER, 
April 18, 1895. 
state of affairs arises from two causes. In the first place because 
when the soil is loosened it is penetrated and warmed by the 
sun-heated atmosphere. Not only does this take place on the 
immediate surface, but the air forces itself to a considerable depth, 
carrying with it that necessary element for the promotion of quicir 
growth—nitrogen, which is ever present in the atmosphere, and 
made available in the soil in the form of nitrates, through the 
agency of Bacteria, for the use of plants. The worker who is 
acquainted with these established facts must, I think, carry out 
his work with greater zest, because he knows how great is the 
sum total of good he is doing with the outlay only of pleasant 
labour. 
With these thoughts (which may prove food for further reflec¬ 
tion) passing through our minds, let us during the prevalence of 
the welcome sunshine ply our hoes in earnest among all growing 
crops in the kitchen garden ; let there not remain an inch of ground 
unstirred, except it be in the seed beds, where we might stir up our 
crops as well. Here we must wait till the young seedlings appear : 
but, when they can be clearly discerned, the sooner the hoe is run 
between the rows the better. We have lately been plying the hoe 
frequently between our Cabbage plants (which have fortunately 
come through the winter well), and the way in which they show 
their approval of the iimely attention by the rapidity of their 
growth, gives birth to feelings of satisfaction ; indeed, the daily 
survey of a good Cabbage bed during warm spring weather may be 
reckoned as one of the “delights” of gardening. Our labours, 
however, have not been confined to the kitchen garden. Rose 
beds have been forked up, and the dry crumbling soil is being 
sweetened and enriched ready for the time when the strain comes 
by-and-by. 
The occupants of herbaceous borders and flower beds are also 
springing into life with a rapidity by no means anticipated a few 
weeks ago. Hyacinths and Tulips in exposed positions are just 
unfolding their beauty, while those in more sheltered places are 
already beginning to fade. Beds of Silene and Violas have the 
surface soil stirred once each week, so as to bring them into flower 
simultaneously (or as nearly as possible so) with Aubrietias and 
Myosotis. I find much can be done in this way to regulate the 
time of flowering of the various plants used for spring bedding. 
The great aim of course is to have as many beds as possible in full 
flower at the same time. Whenever any particular bed is back¬ 
ward in growth the soil is stirred more frequently, often twice a 
week ; on the other hand, in beds in which the plants are far in 
advance of the majority the soil gets but little stirring. 
Then again after severe winters there is great irregularity in 
the growth of plants of the same species and varieties, and unless 
special attention is given this means a want of uniformity in the 
plants when in flower. In such instances I make a practice of 
watering weakly grown plants, then stirring the soil next day. By 
persisting in this simple practice so much may be done towards 
securing well-balanced growth. —Beassica. 
BOTHIANA. 
“ The youth who hopes the Olympic prize to gain 
All arts must try and every toil sustain.” 
Practical experience of bothy life and those who dwell in 
bothydom, with the important bearing this phase of a young 
gardener’s life has on his career, induces me to think that an 
article upon it may prove of interest to him now, and of service 
hereafter. The bothy oft makes or mars a man. The youth freed 
from home ties, anxious to do well, equipped by thoughtful friends 
with some good books and much good counsel, may, with these and 
other advantages, still look back in after years and sigh for those 
opportunities which this period of life affords, and which have 
failed to impress their impoitance on him at the time. In this 
paper—or series of papers—I shall endeavour to supply a want 
felt by me years ago when treading the same critical stage of life’s 
journey, a want which is not quite met by the best existing 
garden literature, nor by those valuable aids written for the 
students of other professions. We eiders may have much or little 
to thank our mentors for, but it is our duty to save the younger 
generation some vain regrets when in the fulness of time are heard 
those 
“Voices of the past, links of a broken chain. 
Wings that can bear them back to times 
Which cannot come again.” 
At the starting point of our journey, on which I hope we may 
travel together for some distance pleasantly and profitably, I need 
scarcely ask, Have you duly considered this path of life leading to 
the “ Olympic prize ?” Trusting that you have ; that it has been 
to you a matter of that serious consideration it deserves ; that your 
heart is in the work undertaken by your hands, which cannot 
otherwise but be one of drudgery to end in disappointments, you 
have now some reason to ask when taking but a cursory glance at 
the present position of gardeners, with the concomitant evils 
resultant from overcrowding, what is this prize you are striving 
for, and for which so many are competing? You will probably 
substitute for the laurel crown of the youthful athlete the position 
of head gardener in a first-class establishment. Such you may at 
least hope for, and for such you must qualify. Yet the thought 
cannot but force itself on your mind that there is more than a 
slight danger of failure ; so many good men apparently miss the 
prize. Apparently I say, for there is another and a higher inter¬ 
pretation of this prize of life which is your prerogative if you so 
will it. It is within your reach, and once grasped no man can take 
it from you. At the conclusion of these papers I hope to have 
thrown sufficient light to dispel the mists which may at present 
obscure it from view. 
Too often do we hear of “ lucky ” men or vice versa. Beware ! 
This luck is the illusive offspring of fraud. Do not believe in it. 
It is a “ will o’ the wisp ” luring to apathy. Banish it out of your 
theory of life, and substitute for it energy and perseverance. 
The Start. 
You are now the new comer in the bothy. School days are gone 
for ever—possibly have for some time been a thing of the past. 
The despised school books, much dog’s eared, a little tear-stained, 
are, I trust, in your box. It is for you to discover voluntarily that 
they are old friends with new faces, whereas compulsory attention 
previously has resulted in some enmity towards them, mingled 
with a little contempt which still lingers. With us, who must 
perforce make an early start in the battle of life, school days too 
often end where (figuratively) they should begin. The mind is 
now able to grasp, to analyse, and to perceive various truths, 
hitherto but partly revealed to the boy of tender years. One hour 
of quiet study in the bothy is worth more than a weary day dragged 
out on the school form. As a preliminary course of self-tuition 
these partly forgotten, imperfectly understood lessons, will serve 
to refresh and invigorate your mind. We are too apt to accord 
but the intrinsic value attached to such lessons, and overlook their 
worth as mental tonics. Moreover, “ Do not pull down the scaffold 
poles till the building is complete.” 
Doubtless you have brought to your new home many good 
intentions and some vague ideas of profitably employing this spare 
time the bothy life affords. But you think it best to keep these in 
abeyance till a better acquaintance is made with your new comrades. 
If they happen to be studiously inclined, well and good, but should 
the reverse obtain some courage is required to overcome the 
diffidence ensuing. “ It is the first step which costs.” Here is the 
first, and perhaps the most serious obstacle you will have to 
encounter, and one too on which many good intentions are wrecked. 
Without waiting to see how the land lies, sail into the new port 
with your colours nailed to the mast. Fear not some little 
opposition. “ Smooth water never made good sailors,” nor will it 
on the sea of life. Enter on your new duties quietly, unassumingly, 
patiently observant of all that is going on around you, anxious to 
give of your best to those who by right expect it, nor less conscious 
of the responsibility attached to the time which is more or less 
your own, according to circumstances. 
It may be thought that undue prominence is here given to this 
phase of bothy life, whilst its chief end and aim—viz., the working 
part—is ignored. But I think it may be readily granted that there 
is but little, if any, danger of one clashing with the other ; indeed, 
but a little reflection will serve to show that the youth, self- 
controlled, contented to spend his leisure in the garden lodging, is 
the one most amenable to the control of those in authority and 
attentive to the minor duties required of him in non-working 
hours. 
The bothy of to-day is in many places worthy of this age of 
progress in the gardening world, and as a bright and cheerful home 
for the young gardener forms an agreeable contrast to the dark, 
damp abode of yore, situated on the shady side of the garden wall 
—an aspect better suited to the culture of the Mushroom or cool 
Orchid than to the development of the gardener of the future. 
In one establishment, where I spent three years in the new bothy, 
almost luxurious in its spacious library, dining room, bath room, 
and bedrooms, nothing could more forcibly illustrate the difference 
between the new and old system than the new bothy we lived in 
and the old bothy we looked at, then converted into store rooms, 
with its semi-subterraneous kitchens below the level of the Vine 
borders on the other side of the wall, the watering of which used 
to soak through and put the kitchen fires out. It was to «s a matter 
of surprise that men could have lived in them, but they did, and 
some at least lived to make their mark in the field of horticulture. 
