September 30. 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
413 
follow, and many other ideas, were suggested by the hur- 
! ried, hop-step-and-jump journey above referred to. Within 
these few years a great change for the better has taken 
place in the management of greenhouses and small 
gardens. The bump of order has come to bo recognised. 
To see some nice plants in the greenhouse, you will 
seldom now require to thread your way among decaying 
or fading plants, stuck on the walk, in waving lines, as 
I if no other spot could be found for them. Your clean 
! boots do not get dewed in a morning with weeds com¬ 
peting in thickness and height with the box-edging; 
nor, if it is even a sloppy time at the planting-out 
period, would you greatly need galoshes for the holes 
and dabs at the greenhouse door. Still, in the matter 
of walks, there is much complaint from our small garden 
friends. If, with a strict eye to economy, they make 
them narrow, then they and their friends must tocldle 
behind each other, instead of walking two or three 
abreast. If they are wide, then they must either be 
dirty, or entail vast expense in keeping them clean; 
besides, the first expense in making is something so 
serious. “There is no gravel near worth anything, 
and Professor Bigwig says the walk will never stand 
unless it be excavated at least from nine to fifteen 
inches deep. I wish I had stuck to the old concern, 
and let this plaguy gardening alone.” A great gully 
hole must be formed before either walk or road could be 
made. There appeared to be some magic influence in 
the subsoil for resisting weight, which could not by any 
means be found in soil near the surface, though un¬ 
moved for generations. 
The first peep of light I had on this subject was 
derived from a very simple matter. I observed, that on 
dry pasture lands, heavily-loaded waggons were driven 
without leaving scarcely a trace behind them ; but that 
on the same lands, when wet, the sinkings were such 
that additional horses could scarcely get the waggon 
through. Keep roads and walks firm and dry, and the 
expensive deepness is dispensed with—was the inference. 
Shallow, slightly-rounded walks have, therefore, with me, 
been the order of the day. Still, in plashy weather, 
especially near doors, where there was much traffic, 
the walks would be broken, and in all cases these 
troublesome things, weeds, would grow, and worms in 
autumn would raise their heaps. When our friend, 
Mr. Beaton, was planning and making his valuable con- 
| crete walks, I had been experimenting, as detailed some 
I time ago, with gas-tar. I have done nothing as yet 
but experiment; but in every case of great wear and 
tear, the tar answered. It may be spread thinly over a 
walk already formed, or even on earth formed and made 
in the right shape, fine gravel then over it, rolled, and 
then a nice layer of finer still for the surface, and then, 
when getting dry, rolled firmly again. Neither moss 
nor weeds will grow; and after the heaviest rain they 
will be dry in a few minutes. 
In the journey referred to, I called, in company with 
a friend, at Kingston Hall, near the Kegworth Station, 
chiefly for three purposes: to get personally acquainted 
I with Mr. Mackie, the gardener; to see the splendid vinery 
i there, of which all conversant with garden literature must 
| have heard, with its rafter of thirty feet in length, and 
J bunches as regular from top to bottom as if arranged by 
1 compasses; and to see the trees that, from six years plant- 
i ing, give a new mansion all the appearance of forty 
i years standing. But to these matters I do not now 
advert. In passing from the beautiful village to the 
entrance gates, I was pleased to find that a fine path¬ 
way, by the side of the road, was thus asphalted 
with tar. In the inside policies, Mr. Mackie has made 
great lengths of walks in a similar manner, I might 
almost say miles of them. The spaces round his pits 
i were all so done, and thus spouts were dispensed with, 
j while the ground was all hard and clean at all times. 
Many had been done fully three years, and no failure 
had taken place. In most cases, a sort of walk had first 
been formed; the tar, either in a cold, or heated state, 
was then poured over it from the spout of a water-pot, 
and then divided and spread thinly with a stubby birch- 
broom, or, better still, a stout whale-bone one. It was 
then covered over with fine gravel, silt, or sand, and 
rolled in when the surface was a little dry. Whore tar 
can be easily got, and gravel is not easily procured, this 
is the cheapest and best plan for making a walk that I 
am aware of. There are, however, two drawbacks at¬ 
tending it. First, the smell will he felt for two or three 
months, even when laid down in summer. And the 
second is, that after continued rains the walks will pre¬ 
sent a blackish appearance, but this may be greatly 
prevented, by giving two or three coats of fine gravel 
instead of one, so that the last be fixed on the surface of 
the tar without penetrating through it. In adopting 
this process for entrance fronts, it will be necessary to 
have pieces of gravel the size of nutmegs for the last 
dressing, before rolling in, and this will afford a rough 
surface that will prevent horses slipping in frosty weather. 
Still, these drawbacks referred to would confirm the 
prejudices of many of our friends for clear, smooth, gravel 
walks. The difficulty is to have them smooth, firm, aucl 
clean. Whether made deep or shallow, in the ordi¬ 
nary way, weeds and mosses will grow, as we cannot 
prevent the seeds being blown and carried upon them. 
The eradicating of moss is almost hopeless until the 
bright dry weather destroys it. The picking out the 
weeds destroys the smoothness of the surface, and 
sweepings, levellings, and rollings must be again re¬ 
sorted to, and this frequently during the season. Hoe¬ 
ing and raking is a barbarous operation for thin shoes 
and tender feet, and, unless the weather is bright and 
hot, a short time will give you a walk as green as ever. 
Digging the walks over every spring is a make-shift, 
that, by avast amount of labour in treading, levelling, and 
rolling, keeps the walks tidy for a few weeks; but the 
practice acted upon, as a system, brings up regularly, 
one season, the seeds that were buried, not killed in the 
preceding. Various have been the make-shifts of gar¬ 
deners in these circumstances. Salt, especially when it 
became cheap, was looked upon as a helping agent; but, 
with its advantages there were counterbalancing dis¬ 
advantages. If the weather continued dry after sowing 
the salt, the whiteness was as hurtful to a refined eye as a 
little blackness of the tar after rain. If strong dews, or 
a drizzling shower took place, the dressing would be 
effectual for a time. If a fast, heavy rain occurred, the 
salt was likely enough to be washed off the walks, and 
into the verges, killing them instead of the weeds. Nor 
was this all in such circumstances, the slight saline 
solution that found its way into the gravel would form 
a stimulus to other weeds, instead of destroying them in 
embryo. 
Whatever others may have done, in a small way, with 
a solution of salt in hot or boiling water, it has been 
reserved for Mr. -Fleming, gardener to the Duke of 
Sutherland, at Trcutham Hall, Staffordshire, to reduce 
the idea to a systematic and very extended practice. 
When performed on a fine dry day, destruction of weeds 
is instantaneous ; nor is it likely that seeds or insects 
will escape. Tho machine Mr. Fleming uses consists 
of a boiler, holding thirty gallons of water, with a furnace, 
and iron-pipe chimney, and moves on three broad 
wheels, to prevent the walks being injured. In every 
gallon of water nearly two pounds of salt are dissolved, 
and, when in a boiling stato, tho mixture is dispersed 
equally over tho walk, through a horizontal tube, fixed 
behind the machine, by merely opening a valve and 
pulling the machine quickly along. While the water is 
heating, the attendants are employed in clipping 
edgings and other jobs in the vicinity. In a walk that 
