268 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
barrowful of brickbats, on tliis some half-rotten dung, 
and finally a flat square of turf, on which the hillock is 
placed. It is almost impossible for the roots of the 
plants to “scorch” with this precaution. The soil at 
this early season may be one-half good turfy loam, six 
months old at least, and the other half-rotten manure, 
old vegetable soil, and sandy heath soil, well blended. 
In placing the hillocks, most old practitioners keep 
them at first in a globular form in the centre of each 
light; this enables the cultivator to apply water occa¬ 
sionally, in case of burning, without wetting the soil. 
We have thus conducted the novice in cucumber 
growing up to the period of ridging out, as it is termed, 
and we may now speak of their subsequent treatment 
during the early stages. 
Culture .— This may be said mainly to comprise a due j 
attention to ventilation, sprinkling, and constant care j 
over the linings. If the bed is established as it ought to : 
be, the principal of the heat will have to be furnished 
by the latter; for if the body of the bed is in a slight 
fermentable state, there will always be bnttom-lieat enough; 
for such should not be permitted to rise above 90° by 
any means, nor to fall below 75°. Protection to the 
linings was named at the beginning of this paper: we 
proceed to explain. It is well known that a good deal 
of labour is involved in the culture of very early Cucum¬ 
bers by the ordinary dung frame; and not only this, but 
the loss of much manure. Now, by having some kind 
of screen to ward off the wind, linings will both last 
double the time and also be much less liable to injurious 
fluctuations. A great economy of labour will also be 
achieved, and, lastly, success rendered more certain. 
Some persons use spruce boughs, or other brush¬ 
wood ; and very good they are, but unsystematic, and, 
moreover, not always within reach of our suburban 
gardeners. To such we recommend the use of wooden 
frames, covered with tarpaulin, sail cloth, or anything 
impervious to wet. The frame may be a mere skeleton, 
like, in fact, an old picture-frame, and bound across, for 
strength, at each angle; and the cloth, mats, or other j 
material stretched tight and nailed down all round. ! 
Made in about six-feet lengths, by about four feet in 
depth, they can be readily shifted according to need, by ! 
even lady amateurs. Such adjuncts are greater econo¬ 
misers than many would imagine : beds made of properly 
sweetened fermenting materials, and the linings kept 
moist and protected by screens, will almost work them¬ 
selves, ventilation being of course attended to. Never¬ 
theless, the liniugs should be turned over about once j 
in a fortnight during February and March, choosing 
mild weather for the operation, never turning the whole 
at once, but back and front alternately. 
As to ventilation, a good surface heat being insured, 
we say, give air night and day. less or more, so long as I 
70° can be secured by day, ahd from 60° to 65° by night; ! 
suffering, however, a rise at all times in ajust proportion j 
to the amount of light. Let the maximum pitch be | 
attained generally from about three to five p.m., during ! 
which period the frames may be closed. After this, 
again, give a little air for the night, cautiously, and 
slightly sprinkle round the sides of the frame. 
R. ErRINGTON. 
THE FLOWER-GARDEN. 
Particular Walks. —I have had a plan in my head 
for the last five years for making a walk across a swgmp 
where one could not step a foot without sinking down 
knee-deep, if not much deeper—probably the most 
difficult kind of bottom that is to be met with anywhere 
for making a walk or road on. Yet there is no great 
“engineering difficulties” about it, as the railroad 
writers used to say, and railroads have been carried 
[January 30. 
over such places, but, as I conceive, on a wrong prin¬ 
ciple altogether, and at teu times the expense they 
might have been done, and done well too. 
In this neighbourhood — between Stowmarket and 
Bury St. Edmunds—the line of railroad had to pass 
over a piece of ground of this very description; aud 
report said at the time, that they were sinking money in 
this swamp deeper than it would be possible for the 
Chancellor of the Exchequer himself, with all his host, 
ever to get it up again; and we all of us know that 
they can get out money where few people would think 
of trying for it. Very lately I explained my plan to a 
good engineer, who, after screwing down his eyebrows 
five or six times, declared that I should never sink into 
a swamp if I could but get money enough to walk over 
it in my own way, and that thousands might have been 
saved by the plan on works which he mentioned. 
The usual mode of securing a firm bottom for a road¬ 
way in a place of this description is by first putting 
down a quantity of fagot wood, or—as in the case of 
some parts of the railway over Chat Moss, between 
Liverpool and Manchester—a platform of timber and 
hurdles of sufficient depth and strength to bear up the 
weight of the road, and prevent the boggy ground from 
bulging up on either side : so far, so good." Without a 
floating bottom the thing is impracticable—the error 
has been that more weight was put over the floating 
materials than they could bear without sinking into the 
marsh or bog, without at the same time making the 
stratum itself more or less of a floating nature also. 
Concrete would have done this effectually, if put on in 
separate thin layers, as I described when explaining 
about the road. Now the way I propose is this, and 
only for a walk sufficiently strong to carry a barrow¬ 
ful of something as heavy as a stout navigator could 
wheel across. Instead of using fagots for a float I 
would prefer loose branches, and of them I would lay 
down two, three, or four layers, according to the softness 
of the surface ; over this I would place a couple of 
inches of long straw, and over the straw a layer of good 
concrete three inches thick. The weight of this would 
not sink the wood and straw even in water, supposing 
the width to be above six feet. In extending the work, 
I would carry the wood, straw, and concrete over this 
layer by a system of planks, in the usual way of wheel¬ 
ing with barrows; and by the time the first layer of 
concrete was finished across the marsh the first end of 
it would be set, and firm enough for a second layer of 
the concrete about the same thickness, or, if not dry, 
time must be allowed for it to set, and then it would be 
in effect as if a thick layer of planks had been used 
instead of it—or say a raft. By the time the second 
layer was set we should have six inches of stuff as firm 
as if it were in one piece of wood, slate, or stone, which 
would then float on a muddy surface without wood or 
straw. After that, other layers would be added in suc¬ 
cession, according to the weight the road or pathway 
would have to carry, up to the weight of a “ goods 
train,” and still the marshy bed would be not disturbed 
more than with the first layer of three inches. Such is 
my firm belief, at any rate; and it is confidently backed 
by the more scientific views of the engineer. 
Few people, except builders, have any idea of the 
strength of well-made concrete, and none of them have 
yet any experience of the wear that is in small stones 
when thus put together; but, from the concurrent tes¬ 
timony of writers and keen observers, I am quite sure 
that a road or walk thus constructed would last longer 
on a marsh or yielding bed than if it were laid on a 
solid rock. 
The next most difficult situation for a walk is a soft 
spongy clay on a dead level, within arm’s length of high 
spring-tide mark, or inundations by frequent floods. 
Here, too, the same principle that is involved in the 
