JULY 21 
THE RURAL WEW-YORMER. 
461 
HARDY AZALEAS. 
WILLIAM FALCONER. 
Hardy Azaleas hold a prominent rank among 
our choice garden flowering shrubs. Until 
recently they were seldom met with outside of 
pretentious gardens; but now they are becom¬ 
ing better known and appreciated by the 
general public. Our foremost landscape 
gardeners are favoring the use of hardy trees 
and shrubs to a greater exclusion of “bedding" 
and tender plants,and especially do they appre¬ 
ciate the hardy Azaleas. Nurserymen respond 
to the demand and raise them in greater num¬ 
bers than ever before. Some years ago these 
Azaleas were so expensive that people of small 
means could not afford to buy them, but now 
they vary in price, according to kind and size, 
from 25 cents to a dollar each. 
Greenhouse Azaleas are evergreen shrubs 
as mast of our readers are aware, but hardy 
Azaleas are deciduous. In the Middle States 
and favorable places in the North, Azalea 
amcena, au evergreen species, generally proves 
hardy, but as we look upon the hardiness of a 
Rose or Spmea this species is not reliably 
hardy. The mass of hardy Azaleas grown in 
our gardens are known as Ghent Azaleas, from 
the fact that the Belgian nurserymen have 
devoted special attention to the improvement, 
by cultivation, hybridization and selection, of 
the shrubs. Of later years other nurserymen 
in Europe have also bestowed great pains 
upon the improvement of these Azaleas, and, 
indeed, to-day WatorCr’fl unnamed seedlings 
can hardly be surpassed by named varieties- 
The flame-colored Azalea of the Alleghany 
Mountains, and a yellow-blooming species 
(Pontica) from the Caucasus, have given rise 
to most of the numerous hybrid progeny of 
our gardens. The clammy and purple Azaleas 
of our Eastern swamps, whose beauty and fra¬ 
grance are well-known to every rural child, 
make handsome garden shrubs. Although 
the swamps are their natural home.likeWinter- 
Berry, Button-Bush, and some other shrubs 
from like localities, given a little shelter they 
are available for upland culture. The Smooth 
Azalea (arborescens) from the mountains of 
Pennsylvania and Virginia, is perfectly hardy 
in the North, and, considering that it is so 
hardy and that its white or rose-tinged blos¬ 
soms are 60 deliciously fragraut, it is surpris¬ 
ing that until dow it had not been brought 
prominently before the public as a garden 
shrub. 
But one of the brightest and best of Azaleas 
is A.mollis, the subject of our illustration Fig. 
389. Although generally known as Azalea mol¬ 
lis, its proper name is Rhododendron Pinense. 
As long ago as 1824, it was grown by Loddiges, 
a nurseryman of London, but afterwards it 
seemed to pass into obscurity. In 1842, Free- 
rnont seut it to Englaud from Northern China, 
but again it failed to become popular. In 
1863, it was reintroduced to Europe from 
Japan where it is extensively cultivated as a 
garden shrub. This time it has come to stay. 
It is one of the showiest and most desirable of 
its race, and it is now widely disseminated and 
highly appreciated throughout the gardens of 
Europe and America. It grows wild in alpine 
localities in Nippon and Kiusiu, aud occurs 
naturally with yellow flowers, or more rarely 
with flame-colored ones Under cultivation 
it readily submits to ybridizatiou with other 
species. It grows easily from seed, and seed¬ 
lings blossom when they are three years old. 
Its flowers are large aud companulate, not un¬ 
like tbase of an evergreen Rhododendron, aud 
vary in color through several shades of whitish 
yellow and flame-color, the two last-named 
prevailing. 
Hardy Azaleas thrive well in ordinary gar- 
deu soil provided it be not too clayey or too 
poor. A peaty soil or one into which a heavy 
dressing of decomposed earthy peat or swamp 
muck or leaf soil has been incorporated, suite 
them pretty well. In planting do not scatter 
them about among the Deutzias. Weigolas aud 
other shrubs, but keep them near each other 
und towards the front of your shrubberry 
beds, or, better still, grow them in clumps or 
beds by themselves as you would Roses. The 
Ghent and mollis Azaleas are small to medium- 
sized shrubs and should be treated according¬ 
ly. They blossom iu Spring at the same time 
as they arc bursting into loaf, atul they are 
well adapted for growing iu partially shaded 
places. Shelter from wind is of the first im¬ 
portance. During the Winter mouths a 
mulching of leaves or litter over the ground 
about their roots may be of benefit to them. 
Clumps of medium-sized Lilies planted amoug 
them brighten up the bed in the Summer 
time, and such a home is a good place for 
Lilies. 
According to modern botanists, all Azaleas, 
hardy and tender, deciduous and evergreen, 
are now included in the genus Rhododendron. 
[We express our obligations to Mr. Fred.W. 
Kelsey, of this city, for the use of the cut 
Fig. 389 .—Eds.] 
A SCHOOL-GIRL’S STRATAGEM. 
“Oh, dear, Sophie, I'm tired to death of this 
monotouous, treadmill existence! I shall pos¬ 
itively die if I don’t have something to stir me 
up,” said a young boarding-school miss, as she 
flung herself on the bed. “Ain't you sick of 
such a life?" 
“Sick unto death," answered a young girl 
who was combing her beautiful light hair be¬ 
fore the mirror. “Oh, for one evening in so¬ 
ciety 1” 
“Oh, for a sly flirtation 
Beneath the light of a chandelier, 
With music in the pauses, 
And no watchful teacher near!” 
sang Emma. 
“Yes! society and flirtations, with such 
strict rules and watchful teachers, are things 
we may dream of but not enjoy." 
“It is six months since I have had a chat 
with a gentleman." 
“ And so much longer than that, I have for¬ 
gotten my reckoning entirely. I declare, I 
shall forget how to converse." 
“If we only had a more agreeable physician 
I would have a fit of illness, just by way of 
“Certainly, but you shall have the honor of 
being first attacked." 
Ding, ding, went the tea bell, and young 
misses skipped along the passage to the dining 
hall, followed more slowly by matrons and 
teachers. 
“Miss Sophie, will you have milk or tea to¬ 
night?" There was no answer and the question 
was repeated, when Sophie lifted her hand to 
her head and said, “I wish nothing, may I 
leave the table?" “Are you sick?" “Not much’’ 
was the truthful answer as she walked slowly 
from the room. “She looted pale, 1 remarked 
one of the teachers. "‘May I go with her?" 
asked Emma, half rising. 
Miss C. answered by requesting one of the 
servants to assist Miss Sophie to bed and ask 
if she could be of any assistance. After tea 
all the girls flocked to Sophie’s room, but she 
was too weak to talk to them, so they were 
all put out of the room, and Miss C. kissed 
Sophie good night, with the pleasant assurance 
that if she was no better in the morning, Dr. 
Hill should be sent for. After the door closed 
behind the good lady Sophie said, “Oh Em. I 
did want a piece of that cake I saw on the 
table." 
“Well, for once I read^our heart,” said 
Emma, drawing a slice of the cake from her 
pocket. “I took it while Miss C. was return¬ 
ing thanks for what we had eaten, though not 
for what I had stolen I presume." The next 
morning Sophie was no better, and as she was 
able to exercise self denial far enough to de¬ 
cline breakfast, Dr. Hill was sent for. What 
Azalea Mollis.—From Nature.—Fig. 389. 
variation. What do you say to it?” 
“Capital!" said Emma, “only that old Dr. 
Hill, with his cracked voice mid creaky boots, 
is so cross I can’t endure him. I wish Miss 
Curtis would employ his nephew, young Dr. 
Wheeler ” 
“Catch her doing that! If I had auy hopes 
of it, I would be sick on the instant.” 
“Oh. Sophie!" said Emma the next day; “I 
have capital uews for your private ear." 
“A secret? Oh, hurry up! I’m dying with 
impatience I” 
“Yes, but as you value your life, don't let 
Miss Curtis hear of it.” 
“A needful caution, truly; I’ll rim and tell 
her directly.” 
“No you wont! Now listen—Dr. Hill has 
left town for two weeks, so that his nephew- 
may get into practice. No one is to know- of 
it, and when Dr. II-is seut for, Dr. W- 
is to respoud, and by hi? skill und address in¬ 
duce patients to send for him next time." 
“Oh. Em! 1 feel so ill," said Sophie, leaning 
her head on her hand. 
“What is it, dear? How- pale you are.” said 
Emma, as she flew- to her side. 
“Ha, ha, ha! I w-asonly practicing; do you 
think Miss Curtis could be taken iu that way?” 
“Yes, iudeed! only try.” 
“Well, but you must follow suit.” 
a flutter the intelligence causal in the girls 
room. “Do, Em, arrange my hair becomingly 
and make me look interesting, and bring me 
one of my embroidered handkerchiefs, and 
place my flask of Eau do Rose here on the 
rest table; and by the way please get from the 
lower bureau drawer my new Bible with the 
purple velvet cover and gold clasps.” 
“Why, you don't want to impress him with 
a sense of your piety do you?'’ 
“No! but the purple and gold make my 
hand look so fair in contrast.” In a few 
moments all was satisfactorily arranged, but 
not without bringing a flush to Sophie’s face, 
which was deepened by hearing a gentleman's 
step on the stairs. “She has a fine color," re¬ 
marked the physician, “She was very pale 
when I left her a half hour ago. That spot 
has come there within a few minutes,’' said 
Em. “Oh dear! it must be fever." Of course 
it was uecessary for the young and handsome 
physician to feel his patients pulse. “Some 
flutterings of the pulse." he said, and leaving a 
harmless prescription left, promisiug to call 
the next day. “Do you really think she is 
ill?” asked Miss C. “A few hours will deter¬ 
mine” answered the doctor; “there is fever 
iu the village, ” 
Let me see—the symptoms—mustxi the doc¬ 
tor, but he never got any farther than that. 
Could she be shamming? Hardly, thought he, 
for they had no idea uncle was out of town, and 
she must know it would be difficult to take 
him in. “If I had known Dr. Hill was away I 
would not have sent there." said Miss C. in a 
vexed tone. “I don’t like this handsome young 
doctor coming here in the school, it will make 
talk I know. I hope she won’t need many 
visits.” 
“Didn’t I carry it on well Em? It is time 
you w-ere attacked: misery loves company you 
know.” “Well, I will come up from my music 
in a very bad way” said Emma. The next 
time the doctor called he had two patients to 
prescribe for. It was said throughout the 
school, “Em is sick from sympathy with 
Sophie." “What geese we were Em,” said 
Sophie, as she munched a crust of dry toast, 
“not to have laid in a stock of edibles for this 
occasion. I am nearly starved. I do believe 
I could eat a pound of beefsteak and a whole 
padding.” “So could I, and I guess if we 
promise to make Rosa’s doll anew dress, may¬ 
be we can bribe her to get us some. Let’s 
make out a ‘bill of fare.’ What say you to 
sardines?” “I'd rather have pickled oysters.” 
“Well, we’ll have both, and fruit cake, tarts 
and maccaroous.” 
The little girls were easily persuaded to ex¬ 
ecute the commission and “ not to tell.” The 
next time the doctor came it was not surprising 
that his patients had a good deal of fever, and 
an appearance about the pyes of a disordered 
state of the system. “ They have eaten noth¬ 
ing but dry toast," said Miss C— in answer to 
to his query. But the doctor saw a flush on 
the faces of the girls as she spoke, and began 
to get an inkling of how matters stood for his 
sister Kate had been an inmat°*of a boarding- 
school and had let him into some of the se¬ 
crets of that life, and when Em said in a low 
tone that her “ worst feelings were about the 
middle of the afternoon,” he told here he 
would call in at that time. Though he knew 
that was the hour Miss C— always walked. 
“ Sophy, they say he is very fond of music. 
I’ll tell Jane to get me my guitar. I shall 
look so interesting with oue hand on it. and 
I will be literary and have my little gem of a 
writing case by me, bolding my gold pen in 
my hand. There isn’t that oomme il favt?'' 
“Perfect! how glad I am Miss C—is out of 
the way we will have such a nice timer' “ Did 
you call me my dears?" said that good lady very 
gently as she stood in the half open door. 
They were so sure she had gone out they had 
thrown off all restraint, forgetting the door 
had been left open. She understood all their 
symptoms now as well as their doctor did,’) 
Oh 1 haven't I done my duty by them T thought 
the good lady, and she hastened to the throne 
of grace to implore wisdom to guide them 
aright so that their tastes for flirtations would 
give place to higher enjoyments. 
The doctor paused just inside the door and 
gazed with surprise and amusement upon the 
tableau presented to him. Lovely indeed 
looked those young girls in the subdued light. 
One with her rich, dark ringlets, and long 
lashes resting on her cheek, and her lovely 
hand on the strings of the guitar, as if she 
longed to draw melody from its chords. 
The other with her silky bands of light 
hair pushed back from her alabaster brow 
one small hand pressed against the blue veins 
of her temple, as if to check the rapid flow of 
thought, while the glittering gold pen in her 
snowy lingers glided over the paper before 
her. “ I suppose I may advance and exam¬ 
ine the picture more closely, t Rough in tab¬ 
leaux we are not usually allowed to do so,” he 
said at last. “I hope my fair patients are not 
suffering much pain." he added with a smile. 
Y bile he despised their manoeuvering, he 
could not help his vanity being flattered by 
the recollection “all this trouble was taken 
for me. ' He felt that politeness required 
him to make the visit agreeable to the girls. 
So after rallying the one about writing poe- 
try, insisting that, he had seen verses in print 
ascribed to her, aud entreating that he might 
be permitted to see the effusion; he next made 
music his theme, declaring he loved the guitar 
belter than any other, as it hurmonized so 
perfectly with the female voice. Then he be¬ 
sought her for a little music. At first she 
affirmed she was too weak to play, but he 
pleaded insinuatingly, so she consented to 
give him just one song. But her voice and 
hand both gathered strength as she went on 
and the concert was prolonged for nearly an 
hour. Thanking them politely, for the enter¬ 
tainment they had afforded him, he bowed 
himself out of the room. 
Miss Curtis met him in the halL “Your 
patients seem to be getting along very well. 
Doctor," she said—then a meaning smile was 
exchanged. “ Yes, madam, by to-morrow 
they will probably be able to resume their 
places in school." ' ‘Then you think they need 
no more visits? Very well, sir, makeout your 
bill and send it iu at any time.” 
When old Dr. Hill returned and questioned 
his nephew about the patients he had attended 
