November 29. 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
109 
a foot deep, and tlie two liind handles cut off, the two 
lore handles being the shafts into which the horse is 
yoked; and, instead of legs, it rests on two heavy 
rollers, the one two feet in advance of the other, and 
the foremost roller in two parts to allow of turning 
sharply without scratching or marking the grass. 
Now, with such a roller-cart or harrow—tor it is a 
hybrid between the two—a good load of compost 
may be carried over the grass to make up a flower¬ 
bed any day in summer, or, in short, may he used 
all over the garden instead of carts or wheelbarrows, 
and will roll the grass or walks all the time. Besides 
the convenience of the thing, it often saves the men’s 
time, and relieves them from many heavy jobs. 
Some years since there was an outery in the gar¬ 
dening papers about killing and getting rid of moss 
on lawns, and all sorts of prescriptions and experi¬ 
ments were recommended and suggested to convert 
our velvety cai’pets—the pride of English gardening 
and the envy of foreigners—into “ a threadbare mac¬ 
intosh.” I should consider it an irreparable misfor¬ 
tune if the “ bottom” of moss, which I indulge with 
every care in my power on the beautiful green banks 
and knolls in the gardens, was destroyed; but moss 
requires just as much care as the grass itself to keep 
it in its proper place, and if allowed to get the upper 
hand it would become a great nusiance; but would 
the grass itself be better if once neglected? The 
use, and not the abuse of moss, is what gardeners 
pride themselves in so much, and here is where the 
superiority of the mowing machine over the scythe 
becomes so apparent. It is almost needless to say, 
that moss grows with us in the dull season, and its 
growth is arrested by our summer’s heat. All the 
attention it requires is at the beginning of these two 
seasons. The first fortnight of dry hot weather at 
the beginning of summer dries up the moss to a cin¬ 
der, even on low damp soils, and the common practice 
is to leave it untouched till the grass is well up again 
after the first rain, when the dead moss proves a thick 
felt under the scythe, rendering the operation of the 
mower more easy and pleasant. In the course of years, 
however, the annual coats of this brown musty felt 
accumulates, and by-and-by the finer grasses cannot 
make their way through it, and consequently soon 
perish, leaving the moss to take possession of its 
place, which it will readily do, and soon will acquire 
the mastery over all but the very coarsest herbage. 
It is then that people begin to exclaim, “ How can 
I get my lawn cleared of moss ?” The easiest time 
to kill a giant, they say, is when he is fast asleep. 
Moss is not much of a giant, it is true ; but when it 
is at rest during a summer’s drought is the proper 
time to keep it down—not kill it. Now, like all great 
secrets, keeping down moss is one of the simplest 
things in the world, when we once know it; all that 
is necessary is to go over the ground with old brooms, 
and scrub them very earnestly against the surface, 
backwards, and forwards, and sideways, just as 
mowers go over the ground. Now, the parched up 
herbage of moss flies off in a volume of dust before 
a good brooming, if there is such a word ; but after 
a mild winter we often gather large quantities of this 
burnt moss, and on the return of moist or rainy 
weather the young grass and fresh moss have an 
equal chance to grow; but, as grass gets up much 
faster than moss, it is thus enabled to keep head 
against the moss. 
I have said already that we give the two last cuts 
of the season with the mowing machine, and this 
shaves the moss so clean and even that no more of 
it is left than will just nurse the grass through the 
winter. Moss is a great protection to the finer 
grasses when thus managed ; the worms do not like 
it, and it renders the lawn elastic, and more comfort¬ 
able to walk on after rain or frost; whereas, without 
a bottom of moss the very best-kept lawn is soft and 
soapy, and hardly fit to tread on in damp weather 
without gutta percha soles. I have heard and read 
as many silly things as most people, but I must con¬ 
fess that nothing in the way of gardening has ever 
fallen under my notice half so preposterous as the 
idea of getting rid of moss. Talk of “ velvety car¬ 
pets,” indeed! D. Beaton. 
GREENHOUSE AND WIN DO AY 
GARDENING. 
Viola Odorata. — There are few of our lady 
friends to whom a small bouquet of sweet scented 
violets would not be desirable in the chilly days of 
winter and the earlier stormier periods of spring. A 
great gardening author once stated, that if three 
flower-pots were kept in a window during the winter, 
one of the three should be devoted to the culture of 
violets. Right well did lie know how dear that little 
flower was to the human heart! Years have rolled 
on, and life, with its stern duties, has somewhat 
shaded and blunted the little of romance and poetry 
within us, and yet the sight of the diminutive sim¬ 
ple violet, when in a musing mood, has conjured up 
associations that enabled us, as of yore, to traverse 
the brake, and walk the dell, with companions— 
many of whom are gone—all are scattered—while 
their arch quizzing looks, and pealing voices, when 
to a favourite fair one the first-found flowers were 
stealthily and bashfully presented, are as present to 
our mind as they were upon the occasion when youth 
was young. And where resides the charm ? The 
Heartsease ( viola tricolor) is not only frequently odo¬ 
riferous, but it is often strikingly beautiful, from the 
variety of its markings and the harmonious combi¬ 
nation and contrast of its colours; and yet, much as 
it is loved, and sweet and musical as is its name, it 
holds not the same place in our sympathies as the 
diminutive violet, that has little to attract the eye; 
but which, like other objects, human as well as 
floral, would pass unnoticed in the crowd were it not 
for the beneficence they shed—the fragrance which 
they yield. In this love of the violet—not merely 
from its poetic associations, but from its own useful¬ 
ness and fragrance—we are furnished with a demon¬ 
stration, that however men may be tickled with gaudy 
show, brilliant splendour, and pompous pageantry, 
yet in their heart of hearts they consecrate the high¬ 
est place to re thing virtue—to unobtrusive generosity 
—to those “ who do good by stealth, and blush to 
find its fame.” 
At one time wine was made from the flowers of 
the sweet violet. A blue solution of its petals was, 
and is, used by chemists as a test for acids and alka¬ 
lies ; and even now the dried petals are used as a 
laxative, and a mitigator of pain in the case of chil¬ 
dren. When gathered with stalks and placed hr 
water, they will keep fresh and give out their per¬ 
fume for a week ; but if the flowers are dried in the 
shade, before they are too much expanded, they will 
retain their fragrance for a very long time. I am 
not aware that this is generally known; I found it 
out by accident. A waistcoat had not been worn for 
a twelvemonth—when put on it was quite fragrant 
with violets—on close examination, a few withered 
flowers were found in the pockets, which were quite 
