THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
[February 7. 
252 
course, require an outlay of six shillings; or, in other 
words, it will cost one shilling per annum to ensure 
a crop on the pet apricot, nursed, it may be, by the 
lire of the parlour, or other room behind the wall on 
which it is trained. Why, twelve good moorparks at 
one penny each will pay the cost; and surely a good 
covering will, if of any use, secure this amount. 
We are perfectly aware, that many persons think 
that covering does no good; we confess to a very 
different opinion. We have covered trees of all 
kinds for the last twenty years, and we have left 
every year a portion uncovered, but the balance is 
much—very much—in favour of covering. Anomalous 
results sometimes occur; after all our pains we may 
still miss a crop of fruit; and this, we fear, leads 
persons of impatient feelings, and under the sting of 
disappointment, to forswear all coverings. We, 
therefore, advise our apricot growers to be on the 
alert in the first week of February—to prune their 
trees, and to apply some protection instantly. 
Narrow-winged Red-bar Moth. —Before covering 
up, let ns advise a strict search for the eggs of those 
caterpillars which so much infest the leaves of the 
apricot, and which are familiar to everybody who 
has cultivated this fruit.* This is an insiduous enemy 
indeed, for the first leaves of the apricots are half 
devoured, in general, before the damage is attended 
to. And, again, all the worse, because h undreds—who 
do not, and indeed cannot thread that nicely graduated 
course, which in horticultural pursuits leads from 
causes (apparently trifling in their commencement) to 
most serious effects—suffer this insect rogue to estab¬ 
lish himself before they adopt precautionary measures. 
To return then to the eggs : they may be found at this 
period in little circular patches, of more than a score 
together, attached to the bark of the principal shoots. 
They require a good eye to hunt them out; and their 
appearance is that of an oval spot of paste, indented 
all over by the protuberant swelling of the advancing 
eggs; in fact, if a letter was sealed with a patch of 
paste instead of wax, and a very diminutive ladies’ 
thimble used to impress it, instead of armorial bear¬ 
ings, such would convey an idea of this little 
dotted Pandora’s box. Such we have been taught to 
consider the source of the apricot caterpillar; and 
such, under that impression, we make a point of 
hunting for, as before remarked. 
These things done, the covering had best be 
applied every evening, unless very mild; but, by all 
means, let it be drawn up in the day, if only for a 
couple of hours, unless the weather is very severe. 
We must now turn to matters connected with in-door 
affairs, or, in other words, forcing. 
Fermenting Materials. —It is of the very first 
importance, to all those who use fermenting materials 
in pits, frames, or houses, to have a mixture always 
ready, at this period above all others. Materials for 
the linings for liot-beds of cucumbers, melons, early - 
potatoes, &c., always retain a more durable heat, by 
being mixed previously to use; and, consequently, in 
an equal state of fermentation. We are now sup¬ 
posing the case of those who have it in their power 
to use a considerable amount of tree-leaves with their 
manure. A mixture of two-parts leaves to one-part 
stable manure, makes a valuable material. Our 
practice is, to suffer the manure in the stable-yard to 
accumulate about Christmas. When drawn into the 
garden-yard, it is all shook over, and the shortest of 
* A figure and description of the moth, with its eggs, will be found 
at page 81. It will be seen, that it is the Pcedisca augustiorana — 
or, Narrow-winged lted-bar;”—and 4 we refer our readers to thcaccount 
of its habits in that page. 
the droppings taken out; these we, in general, employ 
as top-dressing on any of the vine borders immedi¬ 
ately; and ultimately they get mixed up with the 
fermenting material, which warms and protects the 
roots of the vines. The remainder is thrown into a 
huge heap, near the leaves, and suffered to reach, 
what is termed, a fiery pitch of fermentation ; when 
it is immediately broken up, and mixed with those 
leaves in the manner before described. Such a 
heap, in a sheltered nook, will retain its heat for a 
great length of time, and will answer almost any 
purpose—building either the body of the hot bed or 
furnishing linings to it afterwards. When used as 
linings, a little long litter should be shaken over it 
when the linings have been disturbed, to prevent the 
leaves blowing about the garden. 
Cucumbers. —We may as well offer a little advice 
to the amateur on this head. In our last notice of 
them (at page 163), we adverted to the building the 
bed; we now pass on to the ridging-out, confining 
ourselves at present to the dung-bed. As before 
observed, the chief danger to be apprehended is from 
burning —that is, from a greater heat occurring at 
their roots than they are able to bear. We cannot 
say precisely to a degree how much they will bear, 
but we can affirm, that ninety degrees, in the soil 
where these roots are situate, is the greatest amount 
that should be allowed at any time—indeed, eighty 
degrees will be found amply sufficient at an early 
period, provided all other points are right. 
Now, how to obviate this burning, is the great 
point for consideration to the early forcer. We 
before said, that the dung must be well worked, and 
that it is good practice to introduce a column of 
unfermentable material beneath the centre of each 
hillock of plants. We may now suppose the bed 
ready for introducing the soil — and this is done 
piecemeal by most good cultivators, forming, at first, 
merely hills, as they are termed, in the centre of the 
bed; this enables the cultivator to apply water with 
facility, during the time the greatest violence may be 
expected in the fermenting materials, which generally 
extends over the first fortnight or three weeks. In 
forming the hills, our practice is to excavate a con¬ 
siderable hollow immediately beneath each hill, half 
the depth of the bed; and this we fill up to the level 
with new turf, cut into squares of nearly six inches. 
These do good service in a variety of ways; they 
prevent fermentation of the bed from gathering too 
much power (which it is apt to do) in the centre 
of the bed, at the very point susceptible of most 
injury. They also form a secure drainage all through 
the summer, ensuring a draught of moisture through 
the centre of the bed, in case of need. Added to this, 
they form an excellent pasture-ground for the cucum¬ 
ber roots, which readily penetrate them. These 
things done, we pile our composts in a compact 
hillock—the surface about ten inches from the glass. 
This is better than nearer, for when put too close, the 
frame soon wants raising; and this is an operation 
to be avoided in the earlier stages of forcing, as there 
is danger of rank steam getting in. 
Cucumber Soil. —As to the best kind of compost, 
opinions vary. Many of our best cucumber growers, 
in late years, have used a compost for very early work 
composed, in the main, of a moory earth, of dark cha¬ 
racter. And no doubt the plan is good; for it would 
be folly to use the strong loamy composts, which are 
required to withstand the heat of a long summer. 
The moory soil beiug dark, readily absorbs heat; 
and it also readily parts with moisture; it is, more¬ 
over, a fine medium for the roots to penetrate. We 
