THE COTTAGE GAEDENEE AND COUNTEY GENTLEMAN’S COMPANION.— June 17,1800. 
loug had an aversion to lean vegetables, being very 
fond of every green thing, from a Cabbage or Spinach, 
up to that crowned monarch of the whole group, a 
Cauliflower; and as for a crisp salad, why, when ac¬ 
companied by good old English roast beef or mutton, I 
must confess that I should be very sorry to be a 
dissentient. 
But it is not only in salads that our author grows 
enthusiastic; he exults in the idea of good fat Legumes. 
Let us hear him. “ Good dung, thoroughly rotten, is 
the soul, or primum mobile, of kitchen-gardens, without 
which, no more than without frequent waterings and 
dressings of the ground, no man can ever bo richly 
stored with fine and goodly Legumes.” 
What would De la Quintinye say could he witness 
the labours of the modern guano-hag, or, perhaps, hear 
of gas-tar water, with some weeds and rubbish, taking 
the place of a real old English muck-heap ? 
But Quintinye, it appears, knew full well the value of 
organic matters in the soil; and, indeed, whatever may 
be the case with the corn of the farmer, certain crops 
of the kitchen-garden could not bo produced in the 
highest perfection without manure from the dunghill. 
Whatever progress science may make hereafter, one 
thing surely is certain, that what is ordinarily termed 
dung, or muck, will never be totally rejected ; at least, 
it will require no ordinary stretch of the imagination to 
suppose such a state of things. Nevertheless, let us at 
once admit, in order to free ourselves from the imputa¬ 
tion of prejudice, that it is a great blessing to our 
country such a thing as guano has come to the aid of 
the muck-heap, which, owing to the vast increase in our 
population, and the increasing amount of comforts 
enjoyed by our labouring classes as compared with by 
gone years, had long since become over-taxed. 
My purpose here is to draw attention to the real 
necessity of not only allowing liberal manurings to our 
prime vegetables, but also of attending well to the 
character aud condition of the manure when applied. 
I have been in the habit, for many years, of using a 
very considerable quantity of tree leaves amongst the 
stable-door manure, both to prolong the heat, and, what 
is of more importance still, to augment the bulk of the 
manure-heap. This material, when it comes to hand 
from fermenting purposes, is generally flaky in texture, 
not well decomposed, and it hangs together in masses. 
Formerly, I used to dig this in most liberally, just as it 
came to hand; and I have known such patchy manure 
dug up many months afterwards in flakes, just as it 
was introduced. Now, according to the old saying, 
“ Money, like manure, does no good till it is spread ; ” 
and, verily, the properly breaking and spreading of 
manure is not, by any means, an unimportant affair in 
gardening. I have, however, for the last few years, 
caused all hotbed linings, and other such mixtures, to 
be chopped finely to pieces before wheeled out on the 
laud, and I find a vast improvement in the crops in 
consequence; indeed, this and deep digging are the two 
chief points in high vegetable culture. Besides, as to 
economy, 1 will engage to make two loads of well- 
chopped dung go as far as three when unebopped aud 
spread in flakes. 
But to return to the subject of succulent vegetables: 
I quite agree with De la Quintinye, that generous 
manurings, and any means by which a permanency of 
moisture (not stagnation) can be secured, arc, indeed, 
the great points in vegetable culture. In what do we 
find more difference than in Asparagus ? One man’s 
produce may be eateu to within one inch of the very 
stalk, albeit the "grass” may be from six to eight 
inches in length ; another’s affords merely a bite of a 
couple of inches—all the rest is “Drumstick.” And 
they say that deep soiling alone is accountable for all 
this! Deep soiling, I aver, is deep nonsense; but it 
201 
requires even more than deep soiling to produce genuine 
Drumstick Asparagus. It must have more of another 
kind of ill-usage so to pervert its natural character. 
Speaking of the succulence of vegetables, which is, 
indeed, the quality they are most esteemed for (so 
say our cooks), look at that difference occuring in 
Lettuces, with which every one must be familiar. In 
these days, although we have some scores of fine names 
in our catalogues, it is somewhat singular to remark the 
fact, that ninety per cent, of our best British gardeners, 
and, what is more, our best British aristocrats, prefer a 
first-rate, highly-blanched Bath Cos to any fresh im¬ 
portation from Baris. Talk of spongy Cabbage Lettuces! 
Why, an English noblomau would as soon have a bunch 
of rags in his mouth as a pincushion Cabbage Lettuce ! 
I much fear all this will be called prejudice, prejudiced 
noblemen, prejudiced gardeners; if so, it is, neverthe¬ 
less, a singular coincidence. Well, it is a national 
one, and must be borne. And now let me ask, How 
comes all this difference between Lettuces as regards 
succulence and crispness? It is not in kinds alone. 
Here I must be allowed to digress for a moment, and 
fall back on Do la Quintinye, who has such funny 
names for the Lettuces of his day: they run as follows. 
Says De la Quintinye, page 220, “ There yet remains to 
be known for the perfect understanding the ordering of 
Lettuces, that they which grow biggest must be placed 
ten or twelve inches from one another, which is to be 
understood of the Shell Lettuce, Perpignans, Austrians, 
Bell Gardes, or fair looks, Aubervilliers, Alphanges, and 
Imperials; also, the Bright Curled, the Short, the 
Little lied, and the Green Cliicon Lettuce.” Ideally 
our modern seedsmen are ingenious in giving natty 
names to their seeds; but I almost suspect that such 
very odd names would baffle the ingenuity of even 
those who can take early and late Cauliflowers out ol 
the samo bag with as much facility as the great northern 
wizard can draw Port, Sherry, or Glenlivet, from the 
samo bottle. 
But it is quito possible, nay, perfectly easy, to 
produce the very purest Bath Cos Lettuce in a state 
totally unfit for the salad-bowl. The Bath Cos Lettuce 
prefers a loamy soil; but it must be highly enriched 
with manure if the Lettuce is required to be fat and 
crisp. The manure, too, should be well decomposed ; it 
is of little use digging in littery material for a crop of 
Lettuces. Another point in transplanting Lettuces must 
be observed: they should be transplanted betimes; they 
can scarcely bo too young. Indeed, transplanting 
Lettuces almost half-grown, any time between April and 
August, is sheer nonsense ; they are sure to " bolt.” 
Let us also take Celery. Here is a salad plant which 
will, if necessary, grow entirely in manure; but under 
any and every circumstance, it must be manured most 
liberally, and the manure must be well decayed, and 
well divided with the spade. I am perfectly aware that 
it will succeed without this nicety in chopping fine, 
which I have here dwelt on ; but 1 fall back on my own 
argument, that manure is shamefully wasted without 
this chopping. Plenty of this kind of manure thoroughly 
mixed with a soil in a highly-worked condition, and a 
total immunity from drought during the growing season 
—these are the conditions requisite for producing crisp, 
sweet, and tender Celery. As to its “ bolting,” why, it is 
just like the Lettuce aud many other things: take care 
that its removals, or, in other words, checks, are carried 
out whilst the plant is small. 
Speaking of manures, I cannot forbear ending tlieso 
somewhat desultory notes with another quotation from 
De la Quintinye, which will show, that in spite of 
modern notions as to manurial matters, our ancestors 
were not altogether in the dark. lie argues thus:— 
“ Now, since the great defects of earth are too much 
moisture, coldness, and heaviness or lightness, aud an 
