334 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
right, he attends to the heating himself. Next morn¬ 
ing, with a clear sky and a north-easter enough to 
nip his nose off, he gallantly pokes up his fire again, 
as the frost is more intense than ever ; forgetting, or 
afraid, to give much air. The heat from the fire and 
the heat and light from the sun uniting, are too much 
of a sudden stimulus, and almost every young fruit 
i drops in consequence. Less artificial heat, and a 
little shading in such circumstances, would have 
saved the crop. Another has found, that manure- 
water is a capital thing for vegetables and free-grow¬ 
ing greenhouse plants, and therefore he must needs 
apply it to all, be they hair-rooted, tender, or sickly, 
with as much consistency as the physician would 
'recommend similar food and treatment, to the rollick¬ 
ing huntsman and the bed-room invalid. This 
gentleman has carefully attended to some beautiful 
plants in a small window conservatory; but one 
night he forgets all about them, and before the morn¬ 
ing Mr. Frost has taken them as his victims. That 
j other friend has heard about the good effected by the 
fumes of sulphur when rubbed upon a hot-water pipe, 
in causing red spiders and other insects to flit —if it 
long allows them the alternative of remaining, or 
i removing—and reasoning with himself, that if these 
mild fumes are so far effectual, surely stronger fumes 
from a higher temperature would be still more so : 
he at once ignites the sulphur in his greenhouse, 
and destroys, if not all the insects, at least the greater 
part of every thing green ! The trying such a plan 
upon a single plant, was too little a matter for him. 
Even the burning of sulphur may sometimes be done 
with great advantage, but I am, as yet, afraid to 
allude to it: the how and the when is so simple, that 
our friends would be sure to be tacking on what they 
believed to be improvements, and then visiting dis¬ 
asters upon my devoted head. Again, here is one 
friend that for several months in the year is quite an 
enthusiast: desirables and novelties are procured 
with open-handed profusion, and the resolution 
formed, that this year they shall constitute the nucleus 
| for a future splendid stock ; but, somehow, when 
spring again returns, there is much the same desolate 
appearance as before, and tbo necessity for a fresh 
supply as urgent, and just because that after the 
first flush of excitement was over, watering was so 
attended to—a dribbling at one time, a flooding of pot 
and saucer at another, and a regular dry-baking be- 
! tween—that for the plants to have succeeded, they 
must have possessed the combined constitutional 
qualities of the hardiest rock-clinging succulent and 
the marshy aquatic. Once more, there is another friend 
who is a great admirer of simplicity, who tells you that 
nothing is grand that is not simple in its eiements, 
manages to grow calceolaries, geraniums, &c., well in 
the open air in summer, planted out in the common 
soil of his garden, yet wonders he cannot grow the 
same things from similar soil in pots, at an early part 
of the season ; though he confesses that his love of 
1 , simplicity does not lead him to attend to drying, and 
turning, and mixing, and draining,—those little j 
matters about which bis more successful neighbour, 
Mr. Attentive-to-tnfl.es, is always so careful, that but 
for his productions lie would chaffer him as in¬ 
heriting the mantle of tbe old florists, who could do 
nothing without a dozen or a score of ingredients. 
These are a few types of numerous groups who, 
like myself, frequently suffer from inattention to little 
matters. We think that the practical inference will 
at once be obvious. Many things, however, which 
appear simple matter of routine to the experienced, 
are sufficiently abstruse to the beginner; while many, I 
[March 21 . 
with limited space and means, are not so much be¬ 
wildered as tantalized by our description of soil, &e.: 
understanding it all well enough, yet experiencing 
something like a night-mare oppression of the nn- 
comeatahle. To meet their case, we will sometimes 
shew how little matters may be made still more 
simple ; and, first, with respect to 
Soil. —For all hair-rooted plants, such as the heath 
j and epacris, sandy lieath-soil is indispensable. This 
is to be distinguished from what is generally termed 
peat or bog earth. The latter is decomposed vege¬ 
table matter, covered, at least periodically, with 
water. The former, heath soil, is decomposed vege 
table matter, mingled with soil and the debris of 
rock, formed on high ground where the hardy heath 
naturally flourishes. In no case of pot-cultivation 
can the hog earth be substituted for the heath, as it 
requires a long exposure to air to free it from the 
acrid qualities produced by its being covered with 
water. This heath soil, even when deep, should not 
be taken off at a greater depth than four or six inches, 
as below that depth, though useful for general pur¬ 
poses, it is too much decomposed to use for pot speci¬ 
mens. Keen cultivators will send twenty, or even a 
hundred miles for the best samples, such as that at 
M imbledon Common ; others, less ambitious and 
able, must be content to obtain it at the locality 
nearest to themselves. No amalgamation of common 
loamy soil can be made to take its place, for these 
hair-rooted plants. A little of it is of great import¬ 
ance lor mixing with loam, in potting many other 
plants. For all plants, however, with largish roots, 
not naturally growing in such soil, it may be dis¬ 
pensed with, where the cultivator cannot easily 
obtain it, and where a little extra care will not be 
grumbled at. When, therefore, we mention heath, or 
as it is frequently termed, peat, as one ingredient in 
a compost, recollect, first, the nature of tbe soil 
specified ; and, secondly, that, unless in the cases 
referred to, its use in compost is as much mecha¬ 
nical as nutritive. You can supply its place, when 
using the soil of the neighbourhood, or even of your 
garden, by inserting pieces of dry, very fibry turf, 
pieces of charcoal, and, more sparingly, lumps of 
dried cow-dung, so dry and hard that the roots will 
cling around them, parting slowly with their nourish¬ 
ment—months being required before they become soft. 
For the plants, however, generally cultivated in 
windows and small greenhouses, the soil of the garden, 
with that obtained from the side of a frequented higli- 
way, will be amply sufficient. The latter, generally 
consisting of a mixture of soil and pounded stones, 
mingled with dropped manure and tree leaves, makes 
capital stuff after it has lain a year or two to con¬ 
solidate and sweeten. The mounds thus formed soon 
become covered with grass; and when then taken off 
in sods and built up in a narrow rick, open thus to 
air but protected from wet, when cut down in a 
twelvemonth, it will be such as an epicure in potting 
would delight in using. For such a purpose, if fibry, 
turfy pieces are your object, such, as when thus 
decomposed, you can scarcely tear asunder, choose 
your turf from a position where the surrounding soil 
is of a loamy nature, and where grass grows; not 
soft and broad-leaved, but narrow, hard, and pointed 
like a needle. 1* or present use, the sods must be dis¬ 
carded, and the finer soil will do well for small pots; 
recollecting, however, that, with the addition of the 
pounded stones, it will always partake of the nature 
of the surrounding ground. If this is strong loam, 
a little sand and charcoal may require to be added ; 
and vice versa. 
