1874.] 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
23 
double duty by using it in winter to shelter our 
half-hardy roses from November to May. 
Those that do not make rose-growing a busi¬ 
ness, as I do, can nevertheless profit by my ex¬ 
ample, and use the cold grapery for many pur¬ 
poses during the winter months when it is not 
used for the grape-vines. Besides Roses, all 
plants of a half-hardy character may be there 
kept, such as Pomegranates, Crape Myrtles, 
Pampas Grass, Tritomas, Carnations, etc., care 
being taken that the pots or tubs in which they 
are planted are plunged in leaves, tan, or some 
such substance, so the roots do not get frozen. 
One Hundred Dollars for a Tomato. 
—Peter Henderson & Co. offered last spring to 
purchasers of seed of their Trophy tomato one 
hundred dollars for the heaviest and best speci¬ 
men of fruit exhibited. Over thirty fine spe¬ 
cimens were sent in, the best of which was from 
Jacob Gass, Perrysville, Pa., who says that it 
was grown without any extra effort, and was 
selected from a load of forty bushels that he 
was that day (September 8th) taking to market. 
It is very doubtful if Mr. Gass received as much 
money for his whole load as Peter Henderson 
& Co. paid him for this single tomato, which 
weighed 23^ ounces, and was perfect in form. 
An immense specimen was grown at Newark, 
N. J., weighing three pounds, and measuring 
28| inches in circumference; but it was received 
in a badly damaged state, and could not be put 
in competition. This is the largest we have 
yet heard of, and shows to what an immense 
size this variety can be grown under particu¬ 
larly favorable conditions. 
Notes from the Pines. 
My little greenhouse is only 24 feet long by 
about half that width. If those whose glass 
measures hundreds of feet in length find as 
much work in proportion as I do in mine I 
wonder how they get through with it. But 
then I have no gardener. I don’t think I should 
care much for plants that some one else took 
care of. The whole fun of the thing is in seeing 
one’s work grow under his hands. Last spring 
I raised some 
Seedling Pelargoniums, or Geraniums, as 
some prefer to call them. The seeds were sown 
too late for the plants to bloom in the open 
ground so they were taken up and put in the 
greenhouse where they are coming on finely. I 
had a lot of seeds from one of the best known 
amateurs in France, bu t these gave me only two 
plants, while a packet of Bull’s (Eng.) seed 
from Peter Henderson & Co., sown at the same 
time, germinated freely and have given fine re¬ 
sults. There is nothing in floriculture more 
interesting than raising 
Florists’ Plants from Seed. —It will not 
be easy to define what florists’ plants are, but 
Pelargoniums, Carnations, Auriculas, Primroses, 
and a host of others are included in the term. 
These plants have so “ broken,” as the gardeners 
say, that we may expect any possible variation 
from seed. Take the Pelargonium or Geranium, 
for instance. It has already given a vast number 
of varieties, and seed from good sorts is likely 
to give many more. I have plants from seed 
that ten years ago would have been thought 
wonderful, but we have so many sorts now 
that a plant should be remarkably good to merit 
addition to our named varieties. If the seed be 
sown very early in spring the plants can gener¬ 
ally be made to flower before frost comes. 
While recommending the raising of seedling 
Pelargoniums as a most fascinating amusement, 
I must give the amateur 
One Caution. —Which is, don’t get excited. 
Those who grow such plants from seed look 
upon them with a partial eye and are apt to 
think because a seedling is not bad it must be 
very superior. They look at it through gold 
spectacles and think there is money in their 
favorite plant. Every florist of experience is 
yearly annoyed by the many seedling Pelar¬ 
goniums and other plants that are pressed upon 
his attention. If the amateur’s seedling is val¬ 
uable he may be sure that the florist will catch 
at it fast enough, but the chances are 99 to 1 
it will be not so good as those he already has. 
Packing Plants does not seem to be so well 
understood abroad as with us. I received a par¬ 
cel from an amateur in England not long ago 
in which many of the plants were lost by their 
being packed too damp. Then the labels were— 
of all things—written upon parchment, and were 
in many cases nearly dissolved and rendered 
illegible by the moist heat. Let me say to 
those who have occasion to send 
Plants by Express or Mail that there is 
more danger from too much moisture than too 
little. The best packing material is sphagnum 
or bog moss, and this should be just so damp 
only as to be elastic to the touch. Plants packed 
in this, if not too damp, will remain for weeks 
uninjured ; that is if the plants are at rest. 
Another thing in Packing is to pack close. 
If sending by mail, take a piece of strong brown 
paper; lay the just damp, not wet, moss upon it, 
put the plants upon the moss and more moss 
over the plants. Then begin at one end of the 
paper and roll up hard, secure with a string, 
and then put another paper over for directions. 
So in packing in boxes, use the moss just damp, 
and have the box full and crammed down hard, 
so that there can be no possibility of moving or 
shaking in transit. 
The Artichoke, or Globe Artichoke as it is 
sometimes called to distinguish it from the bet¬ 
ter known Jerusalem Artichoke, is very little 
cultivated in this country. In this the eatable 
portion is the base of the scales which surround^ 
the large thistle-like flower-head and the bottom 
of the head. There is but a small portion to 
each, and though it is to my taste very delicious 
—something like boiled chestnuts—it will never 
be very popular among those who like to dine 
in a hurry, as the separation of the scales to get 
at their edible portion is very time consuming. 
Nevertheless as I try to grow every eatable 
vegetable that the climate will allow, I made 
a bed of artichokes from plants sent me by a 
friend in Georgia who had a very large strain. 
These many times as I have watched the bed 
during the growth I have said why not use 
The Artichoke as an Ornamental Plant. 
—Its stateliness and the silvery color of its 
beautifully cut leaves adapt it to the purposes 
of ornament, and I was quite sure that anyone 
of the plants in my bed would have made a 
sensation had it stood alone in my lawn. I 
thought I had made a discovery, but—alas! 
for human hopes—while in a carriage with 
several horticulturists making our way along 
the dreary road that leads to the horticultural 
Mecca of George Such, one of the gentlemen, 
well-known for his excellent taste in horticul¬ 
ture, broke the silence .with, “ Did you ever 
consider what a fine ornamental plant the Arti¬ 
choke would make ? ” In general I like conun¬ 
drums, but here was my pet discovery gone in 
a moment. Nevertheless, the Artichoke is as 
fine as ever. I like to get 
Odd Things, but when a gentleman in Texas 
sends five different kinds of bulbs without note 
or comment it is very puzzling. If he had 
given the roughest description of the flowers I 
might have made them out, or if he had said 
what soil, dry or swampy, they grew in I should 
have known how to treat them. As it is I have 
to divide them, and try a part of each as 
greenhouse bulbs, a part in a cold frame, and 
otheis in the open ground. 
Among the comparatively new things that I 
tried last year for the first time are some 
Ornamental Peaches, several varieties of 
which were sent last spring by Mr. P. J. Berck- 
mans, of the Fruitland Nurseries, Augusta, Ga., 
who has a fancy for getting together the un¬ 
usual forms of the peach. Some are worthy 
of a place in a collection of ornamental trees. 
The Pyramidal would hardly be taken for 
a peach-tree if one was not near enough to see 
the character of the leaves. Its branches all 
turn upwards, and the general aspect is that of 
a Lombardy Poplar. 
The Purple-leaved was rather a disap¬ 
pointment after having my ideas formed upon 
the colored engraving in the Gardeners’ Month¬ 
ly. Its leaves, to be sure, are purplish red in 
the spring, but it loses its color as they mature, 
and the tree is then as green as any other. The 
young leaves of the second growth are also 
colored. Of course, the story of this having 
sprung up from the spot where some general 
was killed is all “ bosh.” 
The Australian Dwarfs are very promis¬ 
ing. These are said to have originated from the 
Peen-To , the flat peach of China. Those two that 
I have are beautiful bushes; the joints are so 
close together that the foliage is singularly 
crowded. Mine have not bloomed yet, but are 
said to have double crimson flowers and good 
fruit. It is doubtful if they will succeed in 
the open air at the north. I put mine in boxes 
and placed them in the cellar for the winter. 
They are certainly deserving of the attention 
of those who grow peaches under glass. 
Mr. B. sent me leaves of a curious cut-leaved 
variety, which he discovered in a bed of seed¬ 
lings, and which we may hope to know more of. 
The Hoy a or Wax-Plant. 
.-<V- 
The kind of house-plants that we best like 
are those which stay by year after year. Most 
of our readers no doubt know some house in 
which the plants—such as an oleander, a laures- 
tinus, an orange or lemon-tree—are as much a 
part of the household effects as the furniture 
itself. They have been in the family year after 
year, placed out-doors or on the “stoop” in 
summer, and in autumn removed to the living 
room, where tender care protects them during 
unusually cold nights. Plants like these have, 
so to speak, a history; they have grown up 
with the family, and have in a measure become 
one of it. We sometimes, though not often, 
see the Wax-plant treated in this way, and now 
and then come across a plant that has been in 
the family for years and years. The Wax-plant 
is a native of the East Indies, and in itfc native 
