cv 
^lorintlfnrj:. 
AUGUST NOTES. 
CiiMiiie 
i 
m 
fa 
Hr 
3 Ml 
Flowers mid Freservlnst Them 
Fresh. 
This month, August, we can cut our flow¬ 
ers with a lavish hand, knowing that for 
every fair blossom wo cull, two more will 
start forth, This applies chiefly to verbenas 
and most annuals. A plant strives to fulfill 
its destiny,—to bud; flower, and form seed 
pods. If its blossoms are cut, it. pushes forth 
new buds—makes fresh exertions to do its 
duty iu life, before the frost cuts down its 
glory. 
Flowers should bo gathered while t he dew 
drops glisten among their petals; if cut, in 
the heat of the day, they will soon wither ; 
the sun has drank up their moisture, ami 
they have no surplus store lo keep them 
alive. Cut them with a sharp knife, so as 
not to bruise the minute pores in the stems, 
whereby the water is imbibed which is need¬ 
ful to their preservation. 
Scorning sand, well wet, is better than 
water to keep cut flowers freshly; it. does 
not pntrify, but, remains sweet for some 
weeks if all decaying stems are removed 
daily. Moneywort, can be planted in glass 
dishes, or plates, tilled with sand, and it 
will grow luxuriantly if watered daily. 
Once a week water it with five drops of 
liquid ammonia in a small teacup of milk 
warm water. 
As we write, a marble tazza stands on the 
table beside us; in it is a tin basket painted 
green, and tilled with sand; the luxuriant 
branches of the moneywort hang down its 
Bides, and afford nearly all the foliage re¬ 
quired to set forth the exquisite moss roses 
and gloriously eyed pansies which adorn 
il. It was planted there early In May, and 
is put out of doors in every shower; they 
fertilize it, and it will be a “thing of joy” 
next January. If water is used to keep 
bouquets, a lew crystals of saltpetre will 
prevent putrefaction, or even a bit of char¬ 
coal will tend to sweeten it. 
HtrlldiiK Culling*. 
At this season I lie a mateur gardener should 
commence to strike cuttings for a “ window 
garden,” All kinds of “ bedding out plants'* 
grow with great ease in these warm summer 
days. They should be taken from wood 
partly hardened — not the tender young 
shoots—and planted in sand with a rich soil 
at the bottom of Iho pot. If grown in small 
pots, tin y should be sunk in a shady situa¬ 
tion, and sheltered from the rays of the noon¬ 
day sun. The earth should be kept, well 
watered ; if .allowed to dry up, it may cost 
you the I ill; of your pet. As soon as the 
lower leaves drop, the cutting has struck 
root, and in a week can he transplanted to a 
larger pot, and have all I he sunlight you can 
give it, to make it, a vigorous, thrifty plant 
for winter blooming. 
I’rnpiigntiiiK anil MiuiauinK Pansies. 
Pansies root very readily from cuttings in 
this mouth, and the old plants are better for 
pruning; indued, many florists cut their 
plants down to the ground in July, to make 
them produce finer flowers in September and 
October. 
It i- not more than twenty years since the 
pansy attained the dignity of a florist’s 
flower. We are indebted to an English lady 
of high rank lor its improvement. Year by 
year it grew in grace and loveliness, until it 
now takes precedence of many flowers which 
were its superior iu richness of coloring and 
beauty of form. By careful hybridization 
the rich markings and pencil ings of the 
flowers of the present day have been ob¬ 
tained ; but. each race retains some charac¬ 
teristics of its parentage.* By proper cul¬ 
ture this plant can be made to bloom cotv 
staidly for eight months in the year, and 
even a slight attention to its wants will pro¬ 
duce a continued succession of beautiful 
flowers. The pansy never blooms so fine as 
when the plant is small and well-rooted; 
lor as it increases in size the flowers, though 
more abundant, are smaller, and in other re¬ 
spects inferior. 
The chief art m growing these plants con¬ 
sists in having a constant succession of 
flowering plants during the spring, summer 
and autumn months. If possesses so much 
of the properties of a perennial, that it can be 
freely propagated by cuttings. These should 
be about three inches in length, and taken 
from the points of the shoots, cut off directly 
below a joint. The north side of a fence in 
a well sheltered situation is the best in which 
to strike them. The earth should be very 
fine and rich, and covered an inch in depth 
with scouring sand. Insert, the cuttings in¬ 
to this, having first pulled off the lower 
leaves, and plant them firmly into the sand ; 
upon this rests more than half your chance 
of success! Water l horoughly, and if possi¬ 
ble cover with a hand glass or tumblers, 
fliey can lie rooted without the glass, but it 
F always I lie surest method, as if increases 
the moisture, and keeps up an even tempera¬ 
ture. 
Pansies arc frequently grown by layers. 
Peg down the young shoots, and cover them 
with fine soil. An incision can bo made at 
the joint, as is often done in layering the car¬ 
nation, but. frequently they will strike root 
quite as freely without it. When well root¬ 
ed, which can bo easily seen by their fresh 
growth, cut them carefully from the parent 
plant, and transplant, in a shady location. 
Pansies will not thrive unless sheltered. 
A bed upon the north side of the house, 
where the hot sun never strikes, is essential 
to their perfection. They arc the richest of 
feeders, requiring a great amount of liquid 
manure or fertilizers to make thorn grow. 
We have treated ours lo a large share of 
a new “fertilizer” not yet offered to the 
market. It is obtained from the New 
Hampshire gold mines, and possesses 33 per 
cent, of carbonic acid solidified. The plants 
are magnificent—never have we seen such 
growth of flowers ami foliage, and they 
have been one mass of flowers since May. 
Pansies must be watered freely; they re¬ 
quire much moisture to bloom well, and 
there is no flower which more fully repays 
the care and attention bestowed upon it. 
Weeds must not be harbored among them ; 
they require clean cultivation. Seed raised 
by the amateur is not likely to produce as 
fine flowers as that purchased of the flourist, 
unless great care is taken. All other flowers 
should be cut off, and the seed pod tied up, 
to mark it; but with all your care it may 
burst and scatter its seed upon Hie ground. 
When seedlings flower, all word)less ones 
should he pulled up directly, and not al¬ 
lowed to fertilize with their pollen those 
which are valuable. 
There is no (lower which deteriorates the 
?oil so quickly, consequently they should 
310 L lie allowed to remain longer than one 
year in the same place, unless the soil is con¬ 
stantly enriched. s. o. j. 
-— 
A FLOWER TALK. 
After reading Frank Amon’s and Dour: 
JiAMii.TON’s dclightful talk about llieiiTlovv- 
-ers, I thought 1 would tell you about mine, 
-wishing I could take you among them and 
show them to you. But as that is not possi¬ 
ble, 1 shall have to content myself with writ¬ 
ing alxmt them. 
l’cl n rtcon iu ills. 
You ought to see my Madam Lcmoino 
Pelargonium. It has been covered with 
blossoms all slimmer, large and very double, 
of the most delightful rose color. The trus¬ 
ses are not so large ns those on my Gloirede 
Nancy, but the individual flowers are larger, 
and the color much more delicate. The 
Gloirede Nancy is a magnificent, plant, with 
round balls of blossoms, instead of Ha t trusses, 
as is common with geraniums. The trusses 
sire so large that they form a bunch which 
resembles a large rose. The color is a bright, 
rich, crimson scarlet, and the habit of the 
plant is excellent. It, is a profuse bloomer, 
and .a very fine grower, 
arv FiK-ii.xiuM 
are very line. The Diadem do Flore is the 
finest of them all. The profusion of its blos¬ 
soms of wavy white and bright pink, and its 
graceful, drooping habit of growth, make it 
a prime favorite. I have Schiller, white 
sepals and purple corolla, blotched with 
Avhite; and Rose of Castile, white sepals and 
rosy violet corolla for single flowers, and Sir 
Colin Campbell, scarlet and purple, and 
Emperor, scarlet and white for double ones. 
The ease with which fuchsias are raised, and 
their proluso summer blossoming, renders 
them very flue for verandas and parlors. 
My llourvnriliiis 
are brilliant, just now, with scarlet and rosy 
clusters of blossoms which look fragrant, 
but haven’t a particle of perfume; they are 
very showy, and blossom profusely, and I 
think they will make fine winter flowers. I 
have never tried them. 
My Carnations 
are doing finely this summer. Last summer 
I bad no satisfaction from them, for they 
would not, condescend to blossom. 1 have 
La Piirite, pink ; La Florafine, white, flaked 
' v ’ith pink; and Defluuee, scarlet. These 
flowers are so fragrant, and blossom so beau¬ 
tifully, that I prize them very much. 
My (Riunit 
is a perfect gem. 1 planted it out in a bed 
in the garden, hut admired its leaves so 
much when they began to unfold, that I pot¬ 
ted it. for the house, and its broad, magnifi¬ 
cent foliage is admired by everybody who 
sees it. It, is really oriental in its appear¬ 
ance, and attracts a great deal of attention, 
being (would you believe it?) the first one 
ever raised here. 
I haven’t time to tell you about my bego¬ 
nias, abutilons, cacti, heliotropes and the 
like, because I want to take you 
111(0 lilt? 4 i'ii r<|<‘)i a 
I his phlox the lierl)iiC(Jou«kiud—is very 
fine. I have it. planted in chimps of white 
and colored kinds. This tri-color is fine__ 
while, lilac and ml—and this Mad. Uenricq 
such a solt, velvety rose—is a beautiful 
thing for the lawn. I do not know of any¬ 
thing more showy that requires less care. 
Ihese Spireas are not, or rather lecre not, 
as Satisfactory as Frank Amon’s. They 
blossomed profusely enough, but were of a 
dirty, greenish white. 1 paid 75 cents 
apiece for them, and expected something 
nice, but was disappointed. 
My Gladioli begin to show their buds. I 
have two dozen kinds, and expect a fine 
show Iroin them.- My Japan Lilies are 
budded beautifully. They have never blos¬ 
somed with me yet, but l hope this summer 
to have a chance to judge of their beauty. 
My Dahlias—I got twenty-five kinds last 
spring—arc not doing as well as last year. 
THE SOUTHERN CYPRESS. 
Ttixudiuni Dlntlclinin. 
BAsiN-like hollows, which serve as reser¬ 
voirs for the surplus waters from the neigh¬ 
boring forests, are of frequent occurrence in 
the lower lands bordering on the Missis¬ 
sippi and its tributaries, and these are the 
NAOMI 
It was quite dry the first part of summer, j 
and that probably: accounts for their lack of 
thrifii ui-ss. . 
My Phlox, Zinnias, Dlanthua, Petunias, 
Verbenas, Balsams and Stock are making a 
very nice show at present. My Verbenas 
are admired very much—as my Lantanas 
are not. The Luisa ms are wry double. 
I must not forget to tell you about. 
My 11 ii nui iiu' ItaflketN. 
They arc; made of old crinoline, put in the 
fire for a few minutes, and heated quite hot, 
when the springs arc rendered as ductile as 
wire. They are then made into a rough 
basket, which I line with moss. The wires 
sink into the moss, mid are completely hid¬ 
den. I like these baskets better than any 1 
can buy. 1 water the plants in them by 
dipping the whole basket into a pail of 
water. The moss holds moisture, and re¬ 
mains green for months. 1 like the plant 
called here “ Wandering Jew,” and some¬ 
times “Jill over the Ground,” the best of 
anything I have seen for hanging baskets. 
It covers the basket Completely, and grows 
rapidly, and is of a beautiful, rich green. 
What its true name is 1 do not know. Il 
lias a leaf shaped very much like a geranium, 
only more scolloped, and gives out an odor 
like a tomato when bruised. Can any one 
give me its real name? 
I have a basket of Trandescantia,—the 
Striped kind; 1 like it very much. It has a 
peculiarly rich appearance. I have Money¬ 
wort, and like it, hut. not as well as the 
“ Wandering Jew.” My Ivy runs up the 
wall, and its rich, dark leaves show very 
finely against the soft grey wall paper. 1 
twine it, about the canary's cage, and it runs 
along the ceiling luxuriantly. For a plant 
to grow iu partial shade, nothing is superior 
to the ivy. 
My roses and other shrubs were beautiful 
in their season. 1 have had t hem but a short 
lime, but all have proved true to mime that 
have blossomed. 1 got my shrubs of a firm 
at Springfield, Mass., and am perfectly satis¬ 
fied with them ; those 1 got of a. Chicago 
firm were inferior plants—some of them, at 
least, and no dependence was to be put in 
the names accompanying them, thus giving 
much dissatisfaction. -Fukn E. Rexfokd, 
Stephen s ettle, Wi*. 
TO CORRESPONDENTS. 
“ Wandering .lew.” Will our correspondent 
who asks the name of this plum, scud us a sprig 
and leaf of it. Wo do not know any plant by 
that name; nor do the professional florists 
whom wo Ini ve consulted which proves the im¬ 
portance of botanical classification. Wo shall lie 
glad to Identify it, for several id - our correspond¬ 
ents luivo mentioned it as desirable for hanging 
baskets. 
Clove Pink. Emily is in formed that the clove 
Pink is the parent of the Carnation, the petals 
being more fringed and the fragrance more in¬ 
tense, some fancying it resembles tlmt of the 
clove. In France it is culled Clove Gllliflower, 
or J uly-flower. 
favorite localities of the Cypress. This tree, 
by iis constitution, requires that the soil 
where il grows shall lie saturated with water 
tlie greater part of tin; year. In these con¬ 
ditions the tree attains to its highest perfec¬ 
tion. It is also found along the borders of 
sluggish lmyous, into which the water from 
surrounding forests finds difficult access, on 
account of the drift wood, old leaves, hnd 
other obstructions, which readily accumu¬ 
late iu situations where there is a luxuriant 
vegetation, with no force capable of remov¬ 
ing the surplus produel. These aft-termed 
“cypress brakes;” but the timber in such 
positions is of vaslly interior quality. They 
occur mostly on the borders of the Mississip¬ 
pi, and the bayous which intersect alluvial 
lands. 
The cypress basins are the ancient chan¬ 
nels of the Mississippi and Its tributaries, or 
their tributary bayous. They intersect their 
channels, closing the mouths of such posi¬ 
tions as are cut, off, forming lake-tike cavities, 
more or less elongated. They are subject to 
imperceptible but certain changes, from de¬ 
posits of sedimentary matter, brought with 
the overflow of rivers. These deposits, 
which tire spread mostly round the margin, 
enrich the soil, and, being retentive of mois¬ 
ture, they soon appear garnished with a 
growth of young cypress. They have their 
outlets at, various distances, above the Mis 
sissippi low - water mark, varying from 
twenty feet above to the high-water line. 
When these ancient beds Of the river, 
lake, or bayou rise to a level with their out¬ 
lets, cypress timber takes almost exclusive 
possession. Meanwhile it contributes, by its 
own deposition, to elevate the depression, in 
which it is greatly assisted by contributions 
of decomposed vegetable matter, which arc 
washed in from t he neighboring forests and 
cancbrakes. When the cavity is filled up, 
the cypress gradually disappears. 
The changes in the position of the river 
disclosed many such tilled up cypress basins. 
They exhibit a series of erect stumps, iu a 
state of perfect, preservation, and varying in 
elevation with respect to each other, from 
high water mark down lo twenty six feet 
below. I have seen in these situations as 
many as ten fully matured series, showing 
that as many growths mu$t have succeeded 
each other. The average age of each series 
must have been, in round numbers, at least, 
five hundred years, which would give an ag¬ 
gregate of 5,000 years since the first cypress 
appeared in the basin, 1 have also found 
huge trunks embedded iu the soil over which 
grew cypress trees, whose stems contained 
from 800 to 000 concentric layers. 
An intelligent observer of these morasses 
will perceive that they are all formed of va¬ 
rious vegetable substances, either originated 
on the spot, or brought in from the neigh¬ 
boring forests, or cancbrakes. Indeed they 
would have no other, for they are generally 
situated'so fur from the rivers that the wa¬ 
ters would lose their substance iu brush¬ 
wood, or canebrakcs, long bclorc they could 
reach the basins. 
The timber of these basins varies very 
much in quality. On the margin of shal¬ 
low, shrubby bayous it is inferior —afford¬ 
ing but a small portion fit for mechanical 
purposes. In this situation, the wood is of 
a coarse texture, deformed and knotted by 
the protrusion of the decaying limbs at al¬ 
most, every elevation. Their defects are 
most conspicuous on approaching the large 
streams, but they decrease on receding 
from tli i -hc toward thy basins. 
The cypress of the basin not unlVe- 
quenlly tower to the bight of one hun¬ 
dred and thirty feet without a single 
limb. This immense shaft has a cir¬ 
cumference at top sometimes exceeding 
sixteen feet., while at its base it is at 
least twenty feet. The immense bight 
of the stem makes it. appear slenderer 
than it is. The column terminates 
abruptly, spreading out, like an umbrel¬ 
la, into a flat top, consisting of a few 
disproportioned limbs. 
As these trees stand very close, and in 
old woods are of very nearly equal 
bights, a dense and unbroken canopy 
is formed of their flat tops sufficient to 
exclude all direct rays of light. It is 
impossible to describe the somber effect 
of such a scene. The deep shadow, I lie 
silence, the seemingly boundless extent, 
and utter seclusion of the spot, produce 
a profound effect; il is like nothing on 
the surface of the earth. The depth of 
awe which it produces is almost terrific 
to the sensitive mind. The density of 
the high-vaulted ceiling is such as to 
produce a perfect reflection of sound, 
and the fall of a tree causes a reverbera¬ 
tion which may be heard at a great dis¬ 
tance. 
This sometimes happens from a dis¬ 
ease to which the tree is subject, ami 
without any foreign force. In ihemiilst 
of a deep, breathless silence, there is a 
sudden crash. The sound echoes and 
re-echoes through Hie gloom like the 
prolonged groan of a falling giant, and 
this horrible sound of death agony is al¬ 
ways accompanied by the howl of wild 
beasts, that, gnash their l.cctli and yell in ex¬ 
ultation over their dethroned king. 
The cypress is not governed by the same 
laws of proportion which are observed by 
other forest trees. While the lop is very 
small, the roots are extremely large, slanting 
horizontally to a great distance. The most 
prominent of these have wave-like flexures, 
whose convex curves rise nearly to the sur¬ 
face. These are not the trim roots, or those 
that nourish the body of the free; but wo 
find protruding from them a series of cone- 
shaped buttresses, called cypress knees. 
These in their full growth, attain to about 
three feet in circumference, with a bight ot 
twelve feet. As they are of various bights, 
they add to the cavern-like effect; for in all 
but their color they appear like stalactites, 
in their several styles of progress. And 
doubtless it is this analogy which has origi¬ 
nated the mistaken idea that, they are the ba¬ 
sis of the tree. They are of the same texture 
as the roots from which they originate, being 
of a light and porous structure. 
The true use and function of these cypress 
knees has caused much speculation; but by 
observing a few facts, it. becomes quite ap¬ 
parent—at least, so It seems to me. When 
ail unusual overflow takes place, agnail swell¬ 
ing of the trunk is found to have occurred. 
This arises from the great absorption of the 
knee-bearing roots, which, in a series of pro¬ 
cesses, of the same si rueturc wi Hi themselves, 
are continued up the Shaft of the tree, never 
failing to reach the high water mark, and 
sometimes oven exceeding twenty-five feet. 
They are doubtless designed to keep up a 
communication between its proper roots and 
the atmosphere, which, in ordinary cases, 
the trees tliemselves would be sufficient to 
to achieve. All who are acquainted with 
the philosophy of vegetable life, will per¬ 
ceive the necessity of some such arrange¬ 
ment, and there could be no better one than 
this hydraulic apparatus affords. 
The Cypress is subject to a very singular 
disease, cniled the rot. This seems to be a 
decomposition of the woody fiber, and to its 
effects tins upper portion of the trunk is 
most exposed. It first appears in the upper 
heart-wood, spreading as it descends, until 
the vitality of the tree is destroyed, and it 
falls to the ground by its own weight. This 
disease appears in trees of every age, and is 
said, iu a greater or less degree, to affect 
one-third of all the timber. The disease in¬ 
cident to old age is of a similar eliar: eter, 
commencing in the heart-wood of the base 
and spreading outward and upward until 
death ensues, and the tree falls. 
The Cypress reaches its maximum of per¬ 
fection between 31° and 32 of latitude, 
though its quality is always modified by its 
hydrographical position. .T. q. a. av. 
The Tea Plant, (in answer to our Arkansas 
correspondent,) is mi evergreen, and \vu think 
will prove hardy with you. It is hardy at Wash¬ 
ington, D. C., we beiievo. 
raw* n*m****em*mn i fk! 
m ^ s xi *^***'/* ^ ffYU fr wyriWfn DYvtf fc W;** •* * " ** *> rm w n a . 1 . 
