THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
August 19. 
320 
favourable. Everything rejoiced in the extra sunlight 
where attention was paid to root action. Plants in pots 
; and greenhouses never were more healthy; never, in my 
I recollection, were so little troubled with insects, and 
required no extra attention, except artificially moistening 
I the atmosphere in the day-time, and a slight shading to 
i break the force of the sun’s rays. 
Then came June, not with its usual bright and 
flaming sun, but with its clouds and cold rains, 
resembling the drizzle and the mist of the far north¬ 
west in October and November. While such weather 
lasted vegetation stood still. We began to despair of 
flower-gardens and harvest-fields; to think that good 
crops of apricots and peaches might do for ball practice; 
and to fancy that showy plants in-doors would be poor 
compensation for the want of tender, nice vegetables at 
the festive tables. True, insects were tilted to their 
last home in crowds; wasps, these fruit robbers, which 
seemed to come the faster the more that were killed, 
i deserted the tournament. Still, as was referred to lately, 
mildew came in myriads, and altogether, though not 
inheriting much of the gloomy, I began to look upon 
the future of gardening as somewhat ill-omened. But 
as if to read us a lesson for our doubts and seep 
ticism, almost as quick as the presto of a magician, 
the scene is changed. The extreme of heat succeeds 
to what, at such a period of the year, was the ex¬ 
treme of cold ; the earth becomes steaming hot almost 
immediately; vegetation progresses as I never wit¬ 
nessed it do before. Almost immediately the flower¬ 
beds are covered; the hard buds are expanded and 
opened; roses come out in a galaxy of glory; tender 
plants in the greenhouse are just in their element; the 
corn crops stand erect and flourishing ; and the month 
of July will long be remembered for giving us a taste 
of a tropical climate with a clear unmistifled sun ; the 
| thermometer in the country fully 95° in the shade, and 
! some 40° more in the sun, while in larger towns it was 
; considerably higher, forcing us to doff our felt hats, and 
frieze coats, and to patronise the straw and the gossamer. 
: Great as the heat was, it was not found particularly 
I oppressive so long as people were in the open air, 
suitably appareled, and actively employed. This is the 
reason why people grumble so when they go into our 
close plant stoves ; the closeness and humidity of the 
air distresses them. This was also the case on the 
present occasion, when the temperature got consider¬ 
ably lower, but with a misty air loaded with vapour, 
waiting for cold to condense, or the electric spark to 
send it in copious rain drops to the earth ;—the pressure 
upon the animal spirits then was greater than on the 
barometer. We were thus presented with two distinct 
features found in tropical regions; nor did we wait 
long for a third, for thunder storms and rain came, that, 
while they lasted, could not have been much less 
alarming than an Asiatic typhoon. 
August has, as yet, continued unsettled; but if flue, 
bright weather would now set in, we would forget all little 
casualities, and remember a July with gratitude, that has 
turned, what otherwise must have been a late and defi¬ 
cient harvest, into a moderately early and prolific one. 
Some of these casualties, may, however, be chronicled. 
T alluded lately to the Bean crop. There can now be no 
' question that Potatoes will suffer to a considerable ex- 
! tent. Some early kinds taken up seemingly quite sound, 
and stored in dry earth, are showing signs of disease; 
i and all I see in fields or gardens are less or more 
affected. Peas for July and August gathering have 
| been more than ordinarily mildewed; and Onions have 
j been similarly attacked in many places. The corn-fields 
arc not our province; but I believe that mildew exists 
as yet to a trifling extent. The deluging rains have 
i laid the crops considerably, but with fine weather little 
damage will be sustained. 
Getting into our little greenhouses, we hear and listen 
to many complaints. Fine plants are scathed, as if 
burnt with lightning; and to the storms many of our 
friends attribute their disappointment. I cannot tell 
them point blank they are mistaken ; but my impression 
is, that a little shading with canvass, or a little whiten¬ 
ing and water brushed over the glass, when the sun was 
so hot and clear, would have averted the calamity. The 
only house plants that I noticed to have suffered with 
me are of Begonia fuuhsioides. They looked bad enough, 
and are just now looking a little better. I trusted to 
their thickish leaves; I believe a little shading would j 
have kept them right. 
Again, some of our friends pride themselves on their | 
Grapes in their greenhouses; and in some cases these 
have suffered dreadfully; some were sent quite roasted; 
and the worst of it was, the footstalks of the bunch were 
so parboiled, that I had no hopes that the berries would 
ever swell. Hero, again, the lightning was blamed! 
I believe that if air had been given early enough, and 
plenty of it, the ruin would not have happened. In the 
case of thin-skinned and tender grapes, like the Sweet¬ 
water and the Grisly Erontignacs, a little shading would 
have been advisable. 
Turning from the house to the balcony, basket, and 
flower-garden, I find that little harm has been done, 
unless where the soil was very thin and sandy, in which 
situations many were burnt up. In all loamy soils, 
deep and rather cold-bottomed, the plants flourished 
amazingly, though now and then one would be burned 
up, and all the rest flourishing. I suffered in this 
respect much more from the tremendous rains, and 
short periods of hail, than from the heat; the plants 
seemed to revel in the latter. My greatest misfortune 
has been with some beds, vases, &c., of Kentish Hero 
Calceolaria. I formerly praised it to the echo. This 
season they were gems, and now they seem next to 
perfect wrecks, the leaves being cut to pieces, full of 
holes, or black spots, and altogether giving one the blues 
to look at them ; I hope they will yet recover. Other 
things have been injured by the rains taking off every 
flower, but a little bright sun brings out plenty more. 
In the shrubbery, &c., I have suffered but little; not 
so many of my acquaintances. Some have had the 
old leaves of their Rhododendrons burned and spotted, 
while the young shoots escaped, the sun fastening on 
those parts that presented most resistance, and were 
less supplied with moisture ; while others, again, have 
had the young shoots and leaves destroyed, seemingly, 
from the inability of the roots to supply moisture fast 
enough for the excessive evaporation. I have just had 
a long letter about a fine Araucaria imhricata that has 
lost its leader, though bountifully supplied with water 
at the roots. The writer attributes it to lightning. 
From some places there are direful accounts from the 
fruit-g arden; but, in the majority of cases I have heard 
of the calamities have happened in light soils, where 
the great evaporation would soon draw off the moisture 
in the thin soil, and in which, so far as I am aware, no J 
attempts had been made to increaso, or husband it, by 
watering or mulching. 
With the exception of insects appearing, I have chiefly 
suffered by the too early ripening of some Apricots, and 
the dropping of others, both of which I blame myself j 
for, because I think they might, at least, have been par- , 
tially avoided by watering and shading. Many plants j 
that will stand such heat when, used to it, cannot endure 
sudden extremes. Comparing notes on such matters i 
will be of general interest. R. Fish. 
