THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
December 20. 
158 
stands greatly in need of it. All fermenting mate¬ 
rials shonld be repeatedly tinned, and kept as snnglv 
together as possible, ready for use when required. 
Hot-beds already made, and worked hy fermenting 
materials, should now he sheltered with flat made 
faggots, tied in sufficient lengths to reach the top, 
and with two, three, or more, withes, if needed, to 
keep them snug. Refuse primings, evergreens, and 
furze, are all excellent things for this purpose; and 
in localities where such things are not obtainable 
thatched hurdles may be used with advantage. 
Linings to hot-becls require good protection at this 
season, or the heat may he very soon lost by drench¬ 
ing rains, or by snow and cutting winds. The beds 
should, also, be well topped up with dry mulch, hay, 
or leaves. 
Broad Beans. —Those who have not already done 
so, may make a good planting of broad beans at the 
present time, according to directions already given. 
Sea-kale should be covered up on nice fine days, 
cither with leaves only, or any other steady ferment¬ 
ing materials, the great secret being, as before stated, 
not to force it too fast. Always make good use of 
the quick-lime bag before the pots are put over the 
crowns. We always keep a quantity of quick-lime by 
us in a box or tub, and a coarse linen bag I'eady for 
dusting, when needed, for the destruction of slugs. 
As soon as our stock of lime is nearly exhausted we 
have in another bushel or two. The tub stands in a 
dry open shed, where the lime slacks of its own accord, 
and is always ready for use. 
Mushroom Beds, in the common sheds, should 
have their share of attention; if water is needed it 
should be tepid, and given from a very fine-rosed 
water-pot. The best covering is refuse or mouldy 
hay: the coverings should be regulated by the heat 
of the beds or the out-door temperature; of course, 
if the bed is cold, and the external atmosphere cold 
too, the beds will require extra coverings to make up 
for it. Look well over the garden on the first symp¬ 
toms of a frosty night, to see that nothing wants at¬ 
tention ; do not stop until the next day, and then say, 
“ I wish 1 had covered that quarter of celery,—taken in 
that lot of endive,—or attended to those turnips,” &c. 
How often have we heard persons say, “ I little though t 
that the frost would have been so sharp last night; it 
actually froze in mv green-house, or potato-frame,” as 
the case may be. But all would have been right bad 
a little more thought and industry been made use off'. 
James Barxes & W. 
MISCELLANEOUS INFORMATION. 
OUR VILLAGE WALES. 
(No. 11.) 
One of the most beautiful scenes in nature is pre¬ 
sented by a hoar-frost. I am not sure that even 
summer itself has any thing more lovely, particularly 
when it is lighted up by a bright, frosty sun; and, in 
spite of the cold that nips oiu- fingers and quickens 
our steps, we cannot help lingering and standing 
to admire. A few days ago, a very thick hoar-frost 
mantled the earth, and almost looked like snow. 
The whole country, as well as every tree and bush, 
and blade, were milk-white with the delicate incrus¬ 
tation : there was a frosty mist in the distance that 
made us shiver, yet a warm sun looked down from a 
cloudless sky, and caused every thing immediately 
around to sparkle like diamonds. The young wheal 
glittered beautifully, bending beneath bright drops ; 
and the dead blossoms and stalks of the grass, left 
I standing in pastures where sheep had fed, were so 
completely covered with rime, that the ground seemed 
as if yielding flowers of frosted silver. I never saw 
anything more beautiful, and where a sheltered sunny 
spot permitted one to pause, it was quite like enchant¬ 
ment to look around. The boughs of the fir-trees, 
and of the gracefully spreading cedar, look doubly 
beautiful when delicately and minutely defined hy 
the touch of the hoar-frost’s pencil; the evergreens, 
and the lingering leaves of the wild hedge-plants, 
look so silvery and bright, and the branches and 
twigs of all sorts and sizes are so distinctly marked 
and beautified, tlrat the eye never wearies of passing 
from one object to another of equal though varied 
loveliness, and then viewing the whole as a mass of 
sparkling splendour. I have often heard my father 
describe a sight he once—and only once—was fortu- 
t nate enough to see, and probably few persons have 
! witnessed anything like it. During the winter, after 
! a heavy rain, a sharp and sudden frost set in, while 
every thing was still soaked with wet. The water 
froze on the trees, and in the morning the country 
seemed like a world of glass. Although this pheno¬ 
menon, as it really may be called, lasted but a very 
i short time, the effect was dazzling and extraordinary; 
and during the silence of a still, wintry morning, my 
father heard crash after crash among the woods, as 
bough after bough snapped beneath the weight of its 
icy burden. The influence of the sun, however, soon 
changed the scene into one of dripping thaw, and 
the broken branches were all that remained to tell of 
this short-lived scene of beauty. 
The hoar-frost seldom lasts long, but during its 
existence few natural appearances are more beautiful. 
It also has a word for the Christian, as he gazes with 
delight on the silvery scene. It reminds him of the 
desert food of God’s people of old time—the manna 
—that “ small round thing, as small as the hoar-frost 
on the ground.” It reminds him of the power of 
God, who gave bread to His people in the wilderness 
—and of His unchanging love, who gives us now 
“ that bread of life,” “ that man may eat thereof and 
not die.” 
What exquisite beauty arises from the very cir¬ 
cumstances least likely to produce it. The frost that 
binds all things with iron decorates the scene with 
light and beauty, just as the trials that seem to crush 
the heart gild it with greater blessings. 
At this season of the year a stillness seems to over- 
j spread the earth, while nature’s sleep is heaviest. 
The hold, bright-eyed robin, indeed, utters his sweet 
! notes among the leafless trees hut seldom, and not 
i with his wonted autumnal glee. He still hops 
briskly before us as we walk, and visits our windows 
1 for the well-known crumbs; sometimes making his 
j home among the nooks of the peaceful church, and 
adding his joyous warble to the hymns of praise. 
There is a friendliness in our feelings towards these 
birds, awakened by the tale that every English in¬ 
fant knows, that make them more peculiarly our out¬ 
door companions, and gives them confidence too. 
How seldom we amuse ourselves among our flowers— 
how seldom does a gardener pursue his work—with¬ 
out an attendant robin ! It may really be called the 
gardener’s bird, and will fly to his very feet to snatch 
up the worm that the spade has turned up with the 
fresh moist earth. I will venture to say that almost 
every cottage gardener has a peculiar robin that 
flutters near him while he digs and rakes. My 
father, who spent much of his time in his kitchen 
I garden, was always accompanied by one of these 
j fearless little birds; and it became so tame that it 
