Ff.bp.uaky 3. 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
S39 
I 
I 
leave;;.—R. 1».” Notwitlistnnding all tliese aiitlioritios, 
we are siiliicieiitl)' young to tliiiilc that the present are 
better tliaii the olden times; and that murrain and mil¬ 
dew, gangrene and decay, will hy degrees pass, and he 
no more thonght of than are tlie Hessian Ely and the 
Cnrl—neither of them now heard of—which not many 
years ago were thonght to have rendered our wheat and 
jiotato crops scarcely worth culture. 
We are very glad to learn that Mr. Xiven, who has 
so etliciently superintended the herbaceous department 
in Kew Gardens, is appointed to the Curatorship of the 
Hull llotanic Garden. 
A correspondent having a sickly Goat, has found its 
health improv'e since ho gave it a small daily allowance 
of salt, and asks whether this can have been the cause 
of improvement? The best answer we can give, is this 
extract from Dr. Forbes’s excellent volume, “A Phy¬ 
sician's Holiday.” 
“ On leaving the Piothe Krnnm to return to /ermatt, our 
party separated; my two companions prel'eriing to return 
by the way they came, 1 choosing to m.ake a bend to the 
north-east, in order that I might see the Strahlhorn face to 
face, as well as the Fiiidelgletoher, Mng between that 
mountain and the I’dffelberg. So we parted company on 
llio i 4 >p of the llothe Kunim : my young friends taking with 
them the (/oc/tx, I the i/uides with me. 
“Tills division of attendants needs some explanation; 
and wliat I have to give will not afford much novelty to 
Alpine travellers. In the earlier half of oru'journey to the 
top of the Ilitfelberg, we encountered, in passing a patch of 
mountain pasture, a small dock of goats—five or six in 
number—which immediately joined our party, and kept 
closp company with ns, through the rest of our route, in 
spite of much remonstrance, on our part. After repeated 
attempts to dismiss them, we were at last forced to admit 
their society, which was certainly of the closest kind. They 
intermixed themselves \vith their uew biped friends in the 
mo.st familar fashion, pressing upon our heels and hands, 
and leaving nothing undone to attract attention and consi¬ 
deration. ’When we stopped they stopped, when we moved 
they moved, and whatever vagaries we committed they did 
the same. 
“ It was really almost pathetic as well as ludicrous, to see 
the poor beasts gratuitously scrambling up rocks and banks 
which we might be climbing to get a better prospect, or 
going far out of their way, if they had one, certainly out of 
good pasture-ground, in order to bear us company in the 
pursuit of objects which in no way concerned them per¬ 
sonally. When a tempting bit of grass came in their way 
on the side of the path, or in the crevice of a rock, no doubt 
they would crop it in passing; but no pasture, liowever 
tempting, would really stop them, much less seduce them to 
the right or left: still on they went, with us, before us, be¬ 
hind us, amidst us, dodging us, nudging us, with all the 
gravity of the caprine nature, and with a detennination of 
zeal which could only bo explained by the spurring on of 
some great desire hoping for gratification. Even wlien 
we had entirely left the region of vegetation, and had to 
clamber up the stony slopes of the Eothe Kunnn, our poor 
friends never left us for a moment, but scrambled with us— 
much indeed to our euvy on account of their superior 
agility—and rested not until they rested beside us on the 
very summit. They sat patiently there all the time wo did, I 
and then attended ray young friends a good way beyond the 
spot uhero wo had first encountered them. 
“ The secret of all this marvellous zeal and ostensible 
affection on the part of the goats, lies in their foiuliwss for 
salt, a delicacy which their exi)orienoe has told them is only 
to be found in the society of the human animal, and to 
gratify their love for which no trouble is thought too great. 
This love, however, although a natural instinct in the goat as 
well as other animals, is, I fear, rather a sophistication in 
the extent to which it is carried by them in their domestic 
state, a sort of saline dram-drinking which perhaps ought 
no more to bo oncouragod th.sn the cravings of our gin- 
drinkers. Their wild cousins, the Uerasen or Chamois, have 
the same taste for tilings saline, but they can only indulge it 
in that more limited degree and unconcentrated form in 
which Nature presents most of her pi-oducts to her children. 
“ Soheuchzer tells us that there are certain spots in the 
Alps, known by different loc.al names, as GUick, Ldckiiieii, 
Sidzcii, which these animals are known to frequent in great 
nundiers, for the purpose of licliiiKj certain rocks, having, or 
supposed to have, a saline impregnation. For this purpose 
they are said to travel very great distances, returning to 
tlieir original haunts after satisfying their longings. The 
hunters who know these localities do not fail to take advan¬ 
tage of tliese gathei-ings, although their prey are said to 
become emaciated during the prevalence of the saturnalia.” 
THE VINERY. 
Aviongst the numerous inquiries made of The Cot- 
T.tGF. G.tp.DENEu, tliose coucei'ning the Vine hold a 
' iirominent position. Reaches are gorgeous ; Pines hear 
i the insignia of royalty ; and every idea connected with 
I good ripe Figs carries the stamp of Orientality. But, 
I notwithstanding these attractive characters, which are 
indeed richly merited, the grape—the luscious grape— 
is everybody’s favourite. 'Three-fourths, at least, of our 
garden possessors, who are in respectable circum¬ 
stances, and who possess their little greeuliouse, direct 
their first steps in exotic fruit culture to the vine. 
It would appear, from the character of many queries, 
that the writers tliereof desire to know more of the 
I minutife of grape culture. Of course, ail readers are not 
precisely alike; all tastes not similar; .all conditions not 
I the same. One likes the very fundamental principles of 
! culture; another thiulcs all such unattractive matters, and 
would prefer a cut-and-dry routine; and thus the world 
is compounded. In very truth, thousands who are fond 
of reasoning over principles are obliged to resort to the 
latter off-hand way, inasmuch, as they have not time, 
owing to their many engagements, to wade their way 
through the mass of conflicting opinions. 
'The majority of our readers will, by the time these 
observations reach them, have their vines budding, or, 
it may be, blossoming; and it will be well to show forth 
the routine of practice, step by step, through the earlier 
stages. 
It is well known, that during the first swelling of the 
hud, up to th^ first peep of the young bunch, the ad¬ 
vances made in what is termed forcing cannot be too 
I gradual. If this part of the process be hurried, the 
' probability is that an insiiflicient number of buds will 
I he developed; tliose, chiefly, which are farthest from the 
main stem, and which hajipened to enjoy a kind of 
I monopoly in the appropriation of the siqiplies in the 
I preceding summer. 'T’his, then, has a tendency to break 
i in upon system, and to render the trees lean in regard 
I of young wood for i'uturo years. 
I 'i'he moment the buds acquire size sulficient to dis- 
1 tiuguish their true character, what is termed dislmddiwj 
should commence, whether on pot vines or those other¬ 
wise situated. It must here be understood by beginners, 
that healthy vines generally may be expected to produce 
more shoots than it is expedient to leave on them, 
j Now, this disbudding is not a process of a day, nor even 
of a week ; it is essentially progressive ; and the latter is 
a fortunate circumstance, as it affords the operator the 
means of equalising, in a great degree, the strength of 
the tree, inasmuch as it compels the subsequent develoji- 
meuts to assume a progressive character also—a matter 
of great convenience as bearing on the operations. 
It is not easy to say, without seeing the vines, how many 
buds should bo removed, and how many left on, so 
much depends on the condition and character of the 
tree. But I may observe, that it requires nearly a 
