July 22. 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
259 
which is the seed of a tree, because all the stamens are 
converted into floral leaves. It is, therefore, only from 
the partially-double flowers that seed may be looked for; 
but it generally happens, that on a rose-bush that gene¬ 
rally produces double, perfectly-double, flowers there are 
some few that have some pollen-bearing stamens with 
perfect stigmas on them. From such save seed, cutting 
off all the barren flowers. Hero, in this stage, is an op¬ 
portunity of hybridizing; that is, by dusting tho stigma 
of some fine variety with a pollen of some other variety 
that possesses a quality superior to the one operated 
upon. For instance, one may have a rich, clean colour, 
but is deficient in substance or form; or, it may be, the 
centre petals are deficient in number to form a fine 
double flower. Though the diligent bee, and other 
insects, may partially perform this, yet that is an uncer¬ 
tain way of hybridizing, and of course done without 
judgment or discretion; for their instinct does not teach 
them to carry the most suitable pollen to answer the 
purposes of the hybridizer. Instead of that, they mar 
the intended effect, and should be prevented from doing 
so by covering each flower operated upon by the hopeful 
florist. This hybridizing is well worthy of careful atten¬ 
tion, for it is by it, that truly wonderful effects are ae 
eoraplished. We have dwelt rather long upon this point 
of hybridization, because we fear our non-success has 
arisen chiefly from an indiscriminate, shall we say, care¬ 
less, way of letting them take their chance, and saving 
seed from every kind good or bad. This is very wrong 
in the case of the rose, as it is in other florists’ flowers, 
and must lead to disappointment and discouragement. 
T Appleby. 
{To be continued.) 
REMINISCENCES OF THE SEASON. 
There is nothing at which human nature seems 
more at feud with than the weather; as Swift justly 
observes, “ it is always either too hot or too cold ; too 
i much wet or too little; ” or, when a combination of 
these extremes does take place, we are told of “ blight,” 
I impure atmosphere, and 1 know not what besides. Now, 
. we gardeners are no more exempt from such frailties 
than are other classes—we find fault with all sorts of 
weather. A continuation of dull moist weather, we say, 
is at variance with our fruit being well-flavoured ; while 
bright hot sunshine is fatal to newly planted-out things: 
! so that we, like the rest of the world, are ever grum- 
1 bling; and, according to the creed of some, each suc- 
| ceeding season, or even each succeeding day, is worse 
than any before it. Fortunately, the conventional usages 
of society have placed a heavy tax (in kind) on such com¬ 
plaints ; so that before each individual one receives the 
sanction of public sympathy, a considerable reduction 
in its general features takes place. There is nothing, per¬ 
haps, more just than this, as we are all too prone to find | 
fault with the means whereby nature checks (or it may be ! 
unduly hastens) the progress of some of her operations, 
while we are blind to the benefits that other things are at 
the same time receiving from the self-same weather we 
have been inveighing against. Now that the present 
season has not escaped its full share of abuse is apparent 
to every one; the early part of it, commencing when vege¬ 
tation is wakening into life, was unusually dry; some 
people said it was too cold also; but we will not coin¬ 
cide with that, this dry season continued uninterrupted 
until the middle of May, when some slight showers 
became the prelude to much heavier rain, which in¬ 
creased in the early part of June, so as to occasion 
floods in the low lands, while dull, showery weather 
continued until near the end of the month ; it gradually 
dried up, and the sun, in like proportion, assorted his 
sway by an equally gradual increase of his daily visita¬ 
tion, until tho first week of July found us complaining 
of the most “ extraordinarily hot weather we ever remem¬ 
bered.’’ Certainly, the transition between dull and wet 
weather to unclouded sunshine was shorter than is 
usual, and may in some cases have been hurtful to 
plants in a highly artificial condition; but most out¬ 
door crops hailed the change with delight, and of course . 
a corresponding advance in their position took place, 
the same as occurred when we had the fine rains at the 
end of May, only the progress in the two cases differ in 
tlieir import, the one being in the enlargement of ! 
the vegetable portion of the plant, the other hasten¬ 
ing its fructification, or period of coming into profit. 
Grumblers tell us that both these extremes of weather 
are useful in their way, but that we have too much of 
them. It is unnecessary hero to enter into a justifica- j 
tion of that Providence which dispenses to us such 
weather as is best for our collective wants; let us see 
how much real good, and oven harm (according to the 
opinion to some) the present season is charged with. 
In the first place, it is admitted by all that the dry 
spring rendered the ground in better condition to receive 
the various plants and seeds committed to it than has 
been observed for many years, hi fact, we seldom 
knew a hard winter mellow the soil so well, and its being 
so at an earlier period than usual; the sowing of seeds 
and other operations were (or might have been) done 
much sooner than usual. Where this was accomplished, 
the evil effects of the continued dryness was counter 
acted, so that it was only those crops which were sown 
late in the spring that were retarded by the drought; 
but then our grumblers will be pointing to the long 
continued north-east wind, and its baneful effects on 
vegetation. True, we cannot deny that its withering 
influence was hurtful to living plants by withdrawing 
more of their juice than they could well spare, without 
affording them anything invigorating in return; still, it 
must be confessed, in so far as acting the part of a 
, fertilizer on tho ground, it was equally as good as a 
j severe frost, and more so, perhaps, because its influence 
by continuance extends deeper. We may, therefore, 
| take it as granted, that notwithstanding the supposed 
' want of sunshine, the ground was in better order the 
j beginning of May than is usual at that time; but as 
tho month advanced with no rain of any amount, deep 
and loud were the complaints, until by aud by we were 
blessed with more abundant showers, aud these gradually 
softening into settled wet weather. This gradual change 
was no doubt wisely ordained:—Supposing a heavy fall 
of rain had come all at once moistening the earth to 
the full depth required by vegetation, would the latter 
have benefited to the full extent by it? Certainly not. 
The withering influence of the east winds had so sealed 
| up the tissue of the plant, that it could not at once have 
adapted itself to the profusion by which it would have 
been so suddenly surrounded, as it is reasonab'e to 
suppose it would have suffered in a similar way to the 
human or brute creation if suddenly removed from a I 
state of starvation to one of super abundance, and the 
reasoning powers forbidden to act. Much better regu- j 
lated therefore, was that gradual state of transition by : 
which the plant was enabled to prepare itself for the j 
change. 
Now, we ought to copy this in our forcing, and other I 
operations of an artificial character; and, though wc 1 
have little hopes of balancing the various elements with ! 
that degree of nicety so essential to the success which ; 
nature alone claims as hers, yet we ought to make the I 
difference as small as possible. 
But, continuing our notes on tho season, wc may i 
observe, all accounts agree that the quantity of rain i 
which fell in June exceeded the average of that and I 
almost all other months in the year; and so completely 
was the ground saturated that it was reported, springs, 
