November 20. 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
107 
sprucely pruned neighbours, must not be despised ; 
more especially as it brings such fruit to perfection 
despite of its unsystematic appearance. With these 
brief bints we may now dismiss the plum family, 
promising to handle them, in all their bearings, as 
pets of the kitchen garden, in due time. Next in. 
order, then, comes 
The Cherry as an Orchard-tree. — Although the 
cherry does not prevail in British orchards, our 
more southerly counties will consider it a fruit of 
some importance, and deserving a little attention. 
Foremost of all we may, perhaps, place the old May- 
Duke ; for who will despise a dish of luscious look¬ 
ing “ Dukes ” in the first week of June ? This is 
certainly a most extraordinary fruit, when its charac¬ 
teristics, which are very peculiar, are taken into con¬ 
sideration. Here we have a fruit of the most luscious 
character ready for table before any other stone fruit 
whatever; companion, and a fitting one too, for the 
melting and time-honoured strawberry; for, through 
a long course of years," it has been their lot to meet 
on the same table, and that, too, at a period when 
the dessert of ordinary folk could (in their absence) 
have boasted of nothing but a few half withered 
apples and pears. Perhaps, as Shakspeare observed 
in allusion to the great Falstaffs rapidly diminishing 
volume, “withered apple Johns.” The Duke cherry 
is, moreover, a fit object of culture in a commercial 
gardening way; for who has not heard of Kentish 
cherries ? It may not be generally known, perhaps, 
that the May-Duke possesses the property of hang¬ 
ing as long on the tree as most fruits. We think we 
may affirm that we have known “ Dukes ” ripe in 
June and sound in September. The only drawback 
against a much more extended culture of them is 
their extreme liability to be eaten by birds, wasps, 
flies, &c.; for, unless they are covered, it is impos¬ 
sible to preserve them; and this covering adds much 
to the expense of culture. To revert to our original 
point—the pruning—we may observe that except a 
little shortening back of the young shoots for a year 
or two after planting, veiy little pruning is requisite 
with the cherry. When the trees become old and some¬ 
what exhausted, they sometimes require some large 
half-decayed limbs to be entirely removed; yet, as 
they, in common with most stone fruits, are liable 
to gum, it is well to defer such operations as long as 
possible; and, when performed, to close the wound 
over with some composition to keep out the wet and 
also to exclude the air. Such composition should be 
covered with something of the “ macintosh ” charac¬ 
ter, or it may crumble away. It must be borne in 
mind that if the cherries are to receive nets or other 
protection, the pruning must be regulated accord¬ 
ingly. The tree must be compelled to grow in a 
compact and somewhat upright form; and, of course, 
the pruning knife must be exercised in curtailing, or 
removing, straggling shoots. We cannot stay now 
to advert to the Kentish and other cherries, some¬ 
times met with in the ordinary orchard, but must 
return to them at another time. 
It will thus be seen, that of all the orchard trees, 
the apple requires most attention as to pruning, and 
next the pear. In all cases of lopping off large 
shoots or limbs, we would leave a portion of the 
alders. These alders and some birch, had been planted 
evidently with the intention of sheltering the apples, 
and this was good policy ; but the fostering friend of 
their early days had become the foe of maturer years. 
Such trees ought to have been occasionally lopped 
back. The owner asked if he had better cut them 
all down; here, however, would have arisen another 
stump. In the case of thriving trees, and limbs of 
moderate size, they may he cut closer ; for here the 
sa.p being abundant and active, the wound, if nicely 
managed, may soon become healed over. But with 
old trees, which make but little wood, the case is 
very different. It is vain to expect the healing pro¬ 
cess here; and the only thing we can do is to apply 
a plaister, with a covering, as before observed. Bv 
these means the lodgment of moisture, and the en¬ 
trance of air, may be prevented, which is very pre¬ 
judicial to the healing of wounds in fruit trees. Every 
one must have witnessed the ill effects of the want of 
covering a wound in a large elm which has received 
a wound in its main stem. This plainly points to what 
injury arises from neglect in such cases. Another 
point is to form the cut so that water cannot lodge. 
A slope, forming an angle of about 45° with the 
stem of the tree, will be good; as, if cut perpendi¬ 
cularly, there will be some difficulty in getting the 
plaister to lodge. 
Whilst on the subject of pruning the orchard 
trees, we may as well wind up this division of the 
subject by directing attention to the pruning, or 
otherwise dressing, of orchard hedges, or boundary 
trees. We were in an orchard the other day where 
a row of alder and other trees, between it and the 
stack-yard, so completely overhang the orchard side, 
that a whole line of Keswick Codling apples, which 
were within six feet of this boundary, were bent al¬ 
most half down by the pressure and trespass of the 
evil. The stems of the orchard trees have become 
tender through this coddling system; for, indeed, I 
found the bark on some of these Keswicks as thin 
as though the trees were scarcely seven years old. 
We advised a progressive removal, cutting a few 
entirely down, some half way, and others to about 
hedge height. We are no advocate for shelter, as it 
is termed, close to an orchard, having always found 
that in proportion as the fruit trees are sheltered— 
alias coddled—so do insects abound: what shelters 
the fruits favours the hatching of myriads of orchard 
spoilers. We like the shelter of elevated grounds or 
of plantations, the latter at a considerable distance, 
if possible. Those who have orchards with crowded 
boundaries, then, will do well to exercise the bill and 
the hand-saw whilst orcharding is proceeding. 
R. Errington. 
THE FLOWER-GARDEN. 
Sowing G rass Seeds. —Of all the news or novelties 
of gardening brought before the readers of these 
pages perhaps that of sowing grass seeds at the end 
of November sounds the most odd. We are so much 
accustomed to ancient rides and precepts, that when 
any one ventures out of the common ranks to recom¬ 
mend anything new, or to advise an old rule to be 
crossed or given up, he has to explain the reasons 
and conclusions for so doing as minutely as if it 
were a disputed point of civil law. Dry, hot sum¬ 
mers often destroy the finer grass on our mown 
lawns, and the frosts of winter are also as destruc¬ 
tive on heavy, wet soils, and the constant sweepings 
necessary to lceepj a clear, clean surface is likewise 
against the more tender grasses, which give a soft 
velvety touch to a well-kept green sward; so that, 
between one thing and another, the coarser grasses 
prevail and occupy the surface, thus giving a rough, 
and often a ragged, apipeavance to that which always 
ought to be as soft and as smooth as a carpet. To 
remedy all this, as far as it is practicable, recourse is 
had to grass seeds thickly sown over the surface, and 
