4888 
WILLIAM FALCONER. 
A biennial, according to Dr. Gray, is “of 
two years’ continuance,springing from the 
seed one season, flowering and dying the next.” 
But in horticulture we cannot follow this rule 
so rigidly: we class many perennials—for in¬ 
stance, foxgloves, hollyhocks, pentstemons and 
Sweet Williams—as biennials,because we have 
better success with them when we grow them 
as biennials than when we treat them as per¬ 
ennials. And many reputed biennials, for 
instance, Ipomopsis elegans, some poppies (P. 
umbrosum). and mountain fringe (Adlumia 
cirrhosa), refer to annuals, because I can 
sow and bloom them in perfection the first 
year. Simply because we have many annu¬ 
als which, if sown in August, live over winter 
and bloom next summer, is no reason why we 
should call them biennials; if sown in spring 
they would bloom the same year just as well, 
only a little later than the fall-sown stock. 
Bellflowers. —Chief among these are the 
old-fashioned Canterbury Bells, single and 
double; white, blue, rose and striped. And 
the calycanthema, or cup-and-saucer Canter¬ 
bury Bells, of the same colors, are equally de¬ 
sirable. Don’t sow them before June or July. 
Winter them in a cold-frame,and plant out in 
the spring. Campanula Sibirica, after the 
same fashion but smaller in all its parts, may 
be treated in the same way; but it isn’t near¬ 
ly so desirable. Campanula Warneri is a 
very pretty little plant with very large flow, 
ers. Michauxia campanuloides is an odd¬ 
looking plant, with large, white, wheel-shaped 
flowers. The seeds germinate readily and the 
plants grow easily and are tuberous-rooted. 
Lift the roots and pack them in moist earth 
or sand in the cellar over winter, and plant 
them out in spring. 
Columbines. —Although perennials, only as 
biennials do I get them in their finest con¬ 
dition. Sow them early and give them a 
good season’s' growth, and if you wish Tor 
fine flowers don’t transplant them in spring 
when they have got to blooming age. They 
never bloom the first year no matter how 
early they are sown. No race of plants inter¬ 
mixes more readily than do columbines; 
hence, if we sow seeds of Yellow Columbines 
we needn’t be surprised if three-fourths of 
the plants show reddish or bluish flowers. 
Although most of them are perfectly hardy, 
it will be better to treat Glandulosa, Pyren- 
aica, and some of the other smaller ones to a 
little mulching over winter. 
Evening Primroses.— CEnothera Lamarck- 
iana is the best of the biennials. Sow in 
spring. It is perfectly hardy. It will prob¬ 
ably self-sow itself, after it goes to seed, in 
quantity. 
Foxgloves. —The large-flowering form of 
Digitalis, purpurea, known as gloxinioides, 
and its white, spotted and rose-purple varie¬ 
ties are the best. Sow in spring; give them 
plenty of room; plant them togethewin masses, 
and mulch them over with brush or leaves in 
winter. They will self-sow themselves in the 
greatest abundance. 
French Honeysuckle (Hedysarum).—Red 
and white varieties. Not a choice plant but 
admissible by way of variety. Sometimes 
blooms the first year, but seldom a full crop 
till the second year. Sow in spring. Hardy 
enough. 
Gibralter Candytuft, and its hybrid 
variety. Sown about midsummer, wintered 
over in cold-frames (for it isn’t hardy) and 
planted out in spring, forms one of the love¬ 
liest mats of pale-purple flowers imaginable. 
Also very easily increased from cuttings. 
Golden Corydalis (C. aurea).—A lovely 
little native plant, which, outside of its native 
wilds, never appears so happy as when al¬ 
lowed to naturalize itself in a sunny spot in a 
garden rockery. Sow in August ; and after 
the plants flower, ripen, and scatter their 
seeds next summer, let the little seedlings stay 
wherever they come up. 
Hollyhocks. —It will pay you to get the 
finest strain of double seed in the market. If 
you sow early in the spring some of the plants 
will bloom next fall ; if you delay sowing till 
April, none of them will bloom before next 
summer, and they will do this if you don’t 
sow till midsummer ; if you sow in September 
or October they will bloom from the follow¬ 
ing August through the fall months, at a 
time when they will be very welcome. Either 
lift and winter them in a cold-frame or cover 
them well up with brush and leaves over 
winter. 
Honesty (Lunaria biennis), and Sweet 
Rocket (Hesperis) are good enough to natur¬ 
alize in the roughest part of the garden, so 
as to afford you lots of flowers to cut if you 
want them, but they are hardly choice enough 
to devote good garden ground to. The Rocket 
lives over very well as a perennial. 
Mulleins. —Than Verbascum olympicum I 
know of no more showy plant in its season. 
We grow it in quantity. It forms broad tufts 
of silvery-gray leaves, from which in early 
June arises a candelabrum-formed flower 
stem five to eight feet high, which in the 
forenoon is completely covered with large, 
showy, golden flowers. Ripens seed in any 
quantity. Acts as a triennial oftener than as 
a biennial. 
Mullein Pink, or Rose Campion (Lychnis 
coronata).—Quite pretty in its way, very 
hardy, and once it gets a footing in the gar¬ 
den, means to stay there by means of self¬ 
sowing itself. 
Pentstemons. —These are good perennials 
where they do well, but I always have best 
success with them when I treat them as bien¬ 
nials. Such very hardy sorts as P. barbatus, 
Torreyi. digitalis and ovatus are all right as 
perennials, but of Cobsea, Murryanus, graudi- 
flora, Palmeri, Fatoni, Clevelandii and other 
such like fine species we should raise a fresh 
stock from seed every year and winter them 
over in frames, for some of them are not har¬ 
dy. and most of them are fickle. 
Poppies —All of our poppies may be rated 
as annual or perennial, but I find it best to 
treat the Alpine and Iceland poppies (Papaver 
alpinum, P. croceum and P. nudicaule) as bi¬ 
ennials. They will flower a little the first 
year, and a full crop the second year, but af¬ 
ter that the tufts are apt to rot oif. They are 
small, pretty, interesting, and have white, 
yellow and orange-colored flowers, but they 
need some care. The horned poppies (Glauci- 
um) may also be considered, but they are not 
very handsome. 
Yellow Rock Cress (Alyssum saxatile). 
—Silvery-gray foliage and the greatest pro¬ 
fusion of golden-yellow flowers in spring. 
Sometimes it lives over as a perennial. 
Silvery Sage (Salvia argentea and S. 
cbionantha).—These form large, handsome, 
white-wooly leaves, and the second year 
bear very large branchy panicles of white 
flowers. Quite hardy. 
Sweet Williams. —Only as biennials can 
we have these in their finest condition; and 
we should sow them early, and get large, 
strong plants. Cover them over with leaves 
or brush in winter, else the leaves will get 
burned considerably. 
Stonecrop (Sedum acre).—This is a per¬ 
ennial, true enough; but my mats of it grow 
so thick and flower so full that before the 
middle of July they rot off, and are immedi¬ 
ately succeeded by a multitude of seedlings 
that soon wax strong in growth and make 
capital blooming mats for next year. 
SWEET PEAS. 
Sweet Peas, ladies and young folks. There 
is no other annual that will please you more. 
Sow them early—as soon as the soil can be 
worked. Remember- that. The collections 
offered nowadays by seedsmen are superb, as 
will be seen by advertisements in this issue as 
well as by the catalogues which we announce 
from week to week. The colors of sweet peas 
are scarcely equaled either in delicacy or in¬ 
tensity and the striking contrasts of color in 
the same flower are only equaled by those of 
very few other plants. Then again, their de¬ 
lightful odor and durability after being cut 
make them of great value for bouquets. We 
have been raising sweet peas for several years 
and every year they are prized more and 
more. And so, readers, we advise you to 
raise a few—if only a few—and then tell us if 
we have overdrawn their merits. 
Woman's Work. 
CONDUCTED BY EMILY LOUISE TAPLIN. 
CHAT BY THE WAY. 
S OME of the papers say that the latest 
fancy with Philadelphia girls is for wet- 
weather promenades. To be able to indulge 
in a tramp on a rainy day is proof of healthy 
vigor, and healthy vigor we are delighted to 
say is fashionable. Certainly one cannot do 
better than to accustom one’s self to being out 
in all weathers. It very materially lessens 
the risk of taking cold. With leggings ancl 
rubbers, or, better still, those high buttoned 
arctics, the only inconvenience we are likely 
to suffer is that of draggled skirts, which can¬ 
not be entirely avoided, even when the skirts 
are short, but if these are changed immedi¬ 
ately on coming in no harm ensues. 
* * * 
A person who is thoroughly and complete¬ 
ly healthy can never be very unhappy. This 
may sound a very materialistic statement 
but it is certainly true. So when we see a 
young girl just entering womanhood who is 
depressed and melancholy, troubled with 
vague longings for higherlduties.and.a’ wider | 
career, we should be inclined to recommend a 
daily tramp of two to four miles. Add to 
this dumb-bells, frequent baths, and whole¬ 
some mental occupation, and the melancholy 
must be very deeply rooted to remain. As 
the season advances the out-door exercise may 
be taken in a more fascinating form still, by 
daily work in the garden—not just aimless 
pottering about, but good honest digging, 
hoeing, and raking. 
* * * * 
Speaking of bathing, a great many of us 
really cannot endure the shock of a very cold 
bath in the winter, and yet we are apt to feel 
enervated after a warm one. A very invig¬ 
orating combination is to bathe in.very warm 
water, really as hot as is endurable: then, 
when thoroughly warm, to pour cold water 
all over one, and follow this with a brisk rub 
all over with a coarse towel. It puts the skin 
all in a glow, and materially increases the 
circulation. And such a bath tends to decid¬ 
edly improve the complexion, a consideration 
we of the vain sex must not lose sight of. 
* * * 
We had the opportunity of looking closely 
at Mrs. W. C. Whitney, wife of Secretary 
Whitney, recently. She is a handsome wom¬ 
an with gray hair, and she gives the impression 
of being very happy and very healthy. Her 
bright, fresh complexion might be envied by 
many a young girl; yet she is one of the bus¬ 
iest women in Washington society. But she 
is a firm believer in the virtues of out-door 
exercise, and she is evidently ome of those 
happy philosophers who greet life with a 
smile. 
This [will not sound very practical to those 
busy house-mothers who can scarcely find 
time to tell whether there is a sunrise or not. 
But there are plenty of young women who 
need more lectures than are ever given them 
on open-air hygiene, and we are talking es¬ 
pecially to them. 
THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DARK SIDE. 
H. STEWART. 
T he old story of the two knights who quar¬ 
reled and fought about the character of 
a shield, one insisting that it was made of sil¬ 
ver and the other that it was made of gold, 
and when both were hors de combat , and 
crawled around to take'"another look at the 
subject of dispute, they found one side 
was silver and the other gold, is always appli¬ 
cable. It is so in regard to the dark side of 
farming, so well discussed by Mrs. Fisher, and 
so aptly illustrated by the lugubrious-looking 
female who seems to say, “Look at me; I re¬ 
present the dark side of farming, and I am a 
miserable, discontented, unhappy woman,” 
and then she goes and scolds right and left 
and finds fault with everything, and makes 
life miserable night and day for her husband 
and children. Life is very much as people 
make it. To be’contented is, as we are told, 
a continual feast. There are many poor farm¬ 
ers, both as to manner and condition,* no 
doubt; but from my long and close acquaint¬ 
ance with all sorts and degrees of farmers— 
and other people too—I must say that the 
bright side of life appears very often, and 
mostly,I believe, where we would least expect to 
find it. Poverty is a relative term. There 
are none so poor as those who want more than 
they have, and none so rich as those who are 
satisfied with their condition. I know many 
kind-hearted people feel more sadly in regard 
to the imaginary sufferings of those persons 
whom they call poor than these do themselves. 
I once read in a French comic paper a story of 
a Paris “chiffonier” (one who rakes over rub¬ 
bish and garbage, and gathers whatever is not 
wholly useless,and sells it to dealers) who was 
happy and gay, and his light heart, untouched 
by care or discontent, broke out in siDging 
over his poor work and in his equally poor 
lodging. This man once had the misfortune, 
(as it turned out) to pick up a gold coin, and 
he hurried home with his prize to conceal it, 
lest some one should rob him of it. He buried 
it under the floor,and dared not leave his house 
or sleep lest some thief should find it and kill 
him for its possession. Three weary days and 
nights were spent in misery; and then the 
man took back the coin and left it where he 
found it.saying,“Rest there, miserable; I have 
had no peace since I found you. and now I am 
happv to get rid of you and will eat and sleep 
in peace.” Is not this a true picture of human 
nature? Don’t we all know more or less of it, 
and are not our unsatisfied desires the meas¬ 
ure of our unhappiness and the dark side of 
our lives? 
For the dark side of farm life we must look 
to the discontent, not of the poorest of the 
farmers, but of those who are reaching for 
what they cannot attain. It is not always 
well to see too far into things. The most un¬ 
happy people are those who are always 
mourning over what they call this wicked 
and unsatisfactory world,*’neverjseeing its 
beauty and fitness for a temporary home and 
a transient stopping place where mankind be¬ 
comes prepared for a future existence far 
higher and more soul-satisfving than this. 
There is a vast amount of comfort and hap¬ 
piness to be got out of this world and more of 
it on the farm than elsewhere. For some 
years past I have bad an opportunity of study¬ 
ing the life of the poorest farmers in the world 
and in several countries, and among all of 
them I have found a general condition of con¬ 
tentment and satisfaction, and consequently 
of happiness, with a conspicuous want of sen¬ 
sibility regarding their poor condition, such 
as others used to different ways of life are 
apt to consider it. A family near me affords 
a type of those people who may be thought to 
live on the dark side, but who don’t know it. 
Living in a poor log cabin, with a badly cul¬ 
tivated farm; often short of food; wretched¬ 
ly and insufficiently clad; but always jolly, 
good-natured, and undoubtedly happy in 
their way; contented with their life 
and having plenty of leisure; like the 
butterfly, gay in the sunshine, and be, 
numbed, but not suffering in the cold, 
this family do more singing and twang- 
ing of the banjo and fiddling in the evening 
and have more laughing and merriment than 
any other, much “better off.” as we think, 
about them. There is a dark side, but it is 
not seen by them; only by the too sympa¬ 
thetic people who suffer, in a very gratuitous 
manner, for them. We may regret want of 
what we call culture, but the uncultured, 
hardy, wild plants which grow upon rocks, or 
in the coldest, wettest spots, in bogs or swamps 
or upon sandy barrens, have beauties of then- 
own equal to those of the highly cultured tea 
roses and hot-house plants in the conservatory; 
and so with people: high culture is not al¬ 
ways happiness, unless there is the content¬ 
ment, often the numbness of feeling for 
others, and the “faculty” of happiness, which 
are quite as often found in the bumble farm 
cabin. There may be and there is a dark side 
of farming, but its darkest side is brilliance 
itself as compared with the dark side of citv 
life as seen in the squalid tenements, and—it 
may be said too, quite as truly—iu many 
“brown stone fronts” and pretentious houses 
where the sharp tooth of care cuts more 
deeply into the heart and life than the sharp¬ 
est tooth of poverty ever did. 
FROM THE NOTE-BOOK OF A LADY 
REPORTER. 
I T is refreshing to know that the New York 
Herald, as shown in an editorial, finds that 
“the good old times were not half as good 
as these times.” It finds that the world 
is growing better instead of worse, and re¬ 
commends the grumblers who don’t think so, 
and are always sighing for a return of “the 
good old times,” to treat themselves for dys¬ 
pepsia or liver trouble. 
The writer believes, with a hearty faith that 
it is delightful to meet with coming from an 
editorial writer of one of the largest secular 
dailies, that religion has a firmer and larger 
hold on the hearts of meu and women now 
than ever before, and in support of his belief 
adduces the fact that men who are indifferent 
to religion do not give a million a year to the 
Foreign Missionary Society, or build a new 
church for every day in the year as the Me¬ 
thodists are doing. 
I am never more inclined to this belief than 
when I drop in for half an hour to worship 
with the members of the noon prayer-meet¬ 
ing in John St., on the site of the oldest 
Methodist church in the city. It is a busi¬ 
ness men’s nrayer-meeting, although some 
ladies attend, and is an offshoot of the old 
Fulton St. prayer-meeting,of which you have 
all heard. 
Even a cynical, irreligious person cannot 
fail to be moved by the earnestness which per¬ 
vades this assembly of men, not ranting, illit¬ 
erate enthusiasts, not all even of the common 
people who heard Christ gladly, but number¬ 
ing among them grave bank presidents, solid, 
smart, young business men, inspiriting ex¬ 
amples of muscular, practical, business-like 
Christianity, Harvard and Yale graduates, 
eloquent evangelists, white-haired saints, 
struggling clerks, and innocent-faced lads. 
Most affecting of all to me are the pale-faced 
shopgirls, who occasionally stea* silently in, 
and out again when their poor little half hour 
has expired. It has been my privilege to 
learn from various waifs, and wrecks of hu¬ 
manity who have been helped by these men, 
who practice what they teach, of some of the 
good that is being done in a quiet way by 
Christians who do not let their left hand 
know what their right hand does, and I must 
believe with the Herald, that “men do not go 
into the slums, and women do not watch by 
sick beds in tenement houses, unless they have 
a’strong motive.” 
I [am willing to agree with T ,“H. S.” that 
