90 
THE COTTAGE GAKDENER. 
November G. 
so coinmnn in O.xforclshii-e, so pleasing to the eye, and 
grateful for the labour of tlic luisbandrnan; on tlio riglit 
were two or throe old cottages, reflecting no credit on their 
owners nor inmates, though, judging by a stout, young, 
healthy dame at the door, who gave uiulouhted evidence slie 
was more attentive to her meals than tlie lengtli of her 
dress and toilet. A little farther on, to tlie left, was a well- 
stocked farm-yard—no bad entrance to a village—but no¬ 
thing to lead mo to expect the treat in store for mo. On 
turning a corner, all at once I found myself in an irre¬ 
gular square, with ten stately Elms, well arranged on a 
beautiful laAvn of, I should say, seven or eight acres, sur¬ 
rounded with cottages of various sizes, without much pre- 
teusiens, or remarkable for their architectui'o, but whole 
ranges of them, from tlie ground to the roof, were in a blaze 
with Fi/rac(inlha, now in full perfection; even the ends of 
the barns are covered with them, showing, at once, what 
effect masses of anything have over your single milk-and- 
water ijlanting. 
As the cljildren were coming out of school, I held up a 
shilling as a prize for the first that could give me the name 
of those beautiful plants, but was soriy to be obliged to 
be satisfied with “ Please, sir, they are the berry trees”—no 
bad answer after all. I was so struck with them, that I for¬ 
got all about train time, and I had the pleasure of an extra 
ten miles’ walk for it; and, oh, Mr. Beaton! here is, at least, 
five or six of the Beatonian Burning Bushes; in one little 
garden, which you would have been delighted to liave seen; 
and, was I possessed of a magic wand, you would have a 
fac simile in front of your door by way of surprise some 
morning, improved by the addition of the Canary Creeper, 
which really makes a splendid mixture ; as the Canary-bird, 
tliough small, will be uppennost. I also saw hedges of it 
leading to cottage doors ; and, in one instance, there was a 
lidge of the yellow one, some ten or twelve inches in depth 
at the top, which I thought very pretty. There are several 
cottages on the upper side that appear to belong to nobody; 
yet they are not without their attraction ; the crimson ' 
poppies are at home on the thatch, and these old places ' 
have a fine, irregular outline, and, as far as the outside is | 
concerned, a little thatch, and a few hundreds of Cotone- i 
aster, Pyracantha, China Roses, and Ivy, would make them ! 
delightful; though I should have liked to have seen the i 
church here, which I found between the mansion and the I 
village of Evenley, it lias no pretensions to grandeur, but 
is remarkable from being covered with Ivy; and as cattle 
apparently at one time had been allowed to eat it, it is now 
clear five or six feet from the ground, beautifully ivaived or 
festooned. 
I like to see the church on one side, standing out 
boldly, in villages of this description ; it acts as a silent 
monitor, and gives them a stamp of moral respectability, 
and something for the wanderer from home to rest Jiis mind 
on. However, I must not find fault, for in tlie absence of 
the church, and even water, it is a very pretty rural village, 
and reflects great credit on the Honourable Mrs. Pierrpoint, j 
who, I wms told, is the substantial patron of the school, ancl ' 
the orignator of the planting more than thirty years ago. i 
Noav, nature has done little for this village. Its beauty 
consists entirely in its arrangement; for, takeaway the Elms ! 
and the Pyracanthas, and place the cottages along the road- ; 
side, and it is not worth a passing look. It is not costly 
cottages that constitute pretty, and, whatis equally valuable, 
comfortable villages; but a knowledge of what its inhabi¬ 
tants really want. The good taste shown here consists in the 
suitable size of the square, the arrangement of the Elms, 
I and in covering the cottages with such appropriate plants , 
for a rural village. The fine old trees require no grounds ; j 
nor yet the grass iron fences to protect it. Here is a place ] 
for the old and the young; and the useful appendages to a j 
village—pigs and poultry; all are at home,/a?' «// is liberty 
here; just ns it should be in every village; and to my know¬ 
ledge, more than one new one might have been in existence, 
with noble trees, giving them the stamp of ages, with much 
less outlay than has been expended in patching and adding 
to existing nuisances that makes everybody exclaim, 
“ What a luLy the village is so much in the way.” Here it is 
otlierwise. What a fine place for a cottager’s Horticultural 
Show. 'There are Nature’s parasols for the ladies, and 
ready-made tents for the potatoes, cabbages, Ac.; a good 
supply of eatables, w'ith tea, at a cheap rate, two or three 
fiddlers, and last, not least, in jilace of flower-pots with 
plants in them stuck on poles, as my old worthy friend, Mr. 
Eish, justly complains of in this week’s Cottage Gardener, 
as being out of place, I would suggest half-a-dozen good 
quarters of bacon, the poles, of course, well oiled, and no 
ladders allowed. 
Who would not be a village maid and swain on that day ? 
D. ¥. 
DWARF TREES versus STANDARDS. 
In a report of the Horticultural Society’s Garden, in the 
Gardeners’ Chronicle of Septembers, it is stated that “ Pears 
and Apples are a good crop on standards, and even the 
young espaliers are bearing fruit; but there is little on 
dwarfs, the sirring frosts having deprived them of most of 
their bloom.” 
In reference to this account, a question is put by an 
enquirer in the Chronicle of the following week, thus :— 
“ Are Apples and Pears, on dwarf trees, less hardy than on 
standards and espaliers ? as the previous observatioirs would 
lend to such a conclusion.” The answer which is given to 
this question is, that the coldest stratum of air is nearest 
the ground, and, therefore, dwarf trees are most apt to lose 
their blossoms in very cold, bright spring nights. 'This is 
rather a disheartening answer for gardeners on a small 
scale, who cannot find room for large trees, and who might 
be desirous to cultivate dwarfs. But is the answ’er correct? 
As it is stated that the young espaliers (I suppose of both 
Apples and Pears) have fruit on them, and contrast favour¬ 
ably with the dwarfs, if these esiialiers be trained in the 
ordinary fashion they must be as near the ground as dwarf 
trees, and ought, one w'ould say, to have sufiered similarly, 
because they have been similarly exposed to the same 
measure of cold. I, therefore, very much doirbt the sound¬ 
ness of the answer. It is evident, as the coldest stra¬ 
tum of air, at night, is that nearest the groirnd, that this is 
Vk constant, wadi not an occasional thing; and as fruit-trees, 
like ourselves, might be termed, to a considerable extent, 
creatures of habit, and their powers of endurance are neces¬ 
sarily affected by circumstances, we might expect that they 
would become what the Yankees call “ acclimated.” Does 
not this take place, or something like it? 
In this part of the country (Kelso), W’e have this 
year no Plums, Peaches, Nectarines, and Apricots, or 
none worth speaking about. The blossom-buds were 
Idlled by the frost of last February, and disappeared 
without expanding. One of my friends, whose garden 
is nearly 400 feet higher than this, in a letter, the other 
day, says that his fruit crop is “just so so;” he has only 
got forty dozen Green Gages from his Green Gage tree 
(and I know' it is a small one), and he grumbles rather. 
He had the frosts of February more severe than we had; 
yet the blossom-buds of his Green Gage were not hurt, when 
ours were all killed, I think it evident, that the tree being 
habituated to the severer cold of a higher elevation, was 
enabled to bear more than ours in a more favoured climate; 
and that it had acquired a superior hardihood from its 
situation. On the other hand, we all know how possible it 
is to make a plant tender, and unfit to bear any exposure. 
I had a very instructive example of this a few years ago. 
'To make sure, if possible, of a crop of Plums on a wall, I 
placed upright boards at certain distances edgeways against 
it, and put others horizontally upon the top of the upright. 
This, by itself, I had found to be of use, as I thought. How¬ 
ever, to make more sure, I took all my spare frame-lights, and 
fixetl them in front, and the trees bloomed, and set beauti¬ 
fully. I hugged myself on having beat Jack Frost for once. 
But after the fruit was set, we had one or tw'o smart night 
frosts, and the whole of the young fruit under the glass was 
destroyed. On the protected trees there were some stray 
branches, w'hich were neither under boards nor glass, and on 
all these exposed branches I had fruit; and another tree, 
standing in betw'een the protected ones, and which was 
entirely exposed, bore an immense load. I think I could 
manage better now; but I cite this example to illustrate 
what I consider to be a fact, namely, that a fruit-tree does, 
1 to a certain extent, at all events, suit itself to its climate. 
