THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
127 
, May 29.J 
perhaps, he has to remove in a year or two to another 
' part of the country. What is he to do ? Rotting them 
into larger pots would only increase the danger in un¬ 
coiling the roots some day or other, because, if they are 
now in a coiling state, there would be two sets of 
coils, in all likelihood, to get free at the time of plant¬ 
ing. The plan I allude to is to meet a case of this 
I description. The plants, instead of being planted out 
permanently, are to be prepared in all respects as if they 
were to be finally planted—that is, the outer part of the 
halls are to be gently loosened, and the roots uncoiled 
and set free; then to plant the whole in Hat hamper-like 
i baskets, about two feet in diameter, or a little more, and 
nine or ten inches deep, and then to be plunged in a 
border in the kitchen-garden, or anywhere else, if more 
convenient, and if the rims of the baskets are two 
inches below the natural level of the place, that will be 
enough ; the plants must all be staked as after regular 
planting. This is by far the best way to deal with very 
young plants, whether they are waiting for the con- 
| venience of the owner, or merely to be nursed for two or 
i three years, so as to render them more fit to be set out 
in more open or exposed places in the same garden. The 
roughest kind of hamper-work is quite sufficient; the 
diameter stated is the most convenient at the time of re¬ 
moval, and if some of the roots are longer than will 
reach the sides of the hamper, they may, with all pro¬ 
priety, be coiled round the side, as if they had grown so 
naturally; indeed, I rather think that it is an advan¬ 
tage to have some of the roots turned round the basket, 
as that is more likely to cause them to form fibrous or 
feeding roots nearer the stem of the tree. At any rate, 
larger baskets are just as likely to prove more dan¬ 
gerous than leaving the plants too long in pots; as if 
they are heavier at the time of final planting than one 
man can raise into a barrow, they will not bear the 
weight of their burden, away they go, and, after all your 
pains, you might as well have pulled your fine Cypress, 
or what not, out of the ground, as find, at the eleventh 
hour, that your rough basket has given way, and the soil 
crumbled away with it,—a kind of game which I have 
seen played oftener than once. Last of all, when the 
tree is finally planted, the basket must be planted with 
it, and when seated in the middle of the hole break 
away the sides of it, open an inch or two of the sides of 
the ball, and if there are, or were, any roots coiled in 
the little hamper, you will soon find them out, and deal 
with them like a skilful planter, as you certainly must 
be before you bring all this to pass. 
Now, there is one more point to be thought of, and a 
very essential point it is. You will go over to the next 
basket maker, or send him word to get a dozen baskets 
ready for you by next Saturday; the man of willows has 
a job on hand for Mrs. somebody, and that we all know 
must first be finished, and she is so particular, that he 
must attend to that job himself, and will put your job 
into the hands of his sons or apprentice, and whatever 
I comes first to hand for them and your hampers will be 
I quite good enough, and by the time your hampers have 
I been three weeks in the ground, you will begin to think 
t you will have a good crop of hampers next year, for 
! they are all of them in full growth! Fresh willows 
! were put together in a hurry, and now they begin to 
] grow—this must be looked to. 
There is a certain place, or places, without any par- 
i ticular name, in almost every garden, which ought to be 
planted now and then, if not every year; and strange to 
| say, none of us writers on gardening ever think to men- 
I tion anything about it; this place is “ where nothing 
will grow," according to the best authorities. Did you 
ever know a garden where some spot or corner could not 
be pointed out by the owner, where nothing would grow, 
; according to his tale? I never did. I have seen many 
contrivances resorted, to, to keep such places from the 
eyes of the world, but still, the knowledge of the fact 
haunts one like a bug-bear, if there is such a creature. 
A friend of miue could never “ get anything to grow ” 
under an old ash tree in his garden, till he saw how 
it could easily be done in this Cottage Gardener. And 
1 have heard of a man who has “ half a mind” to plant 
a grove of old trees with the Glycine sinensis, and make 
a jungle of it some day, by the process of sinking wood 
boxes, or old tar barrels, under the trees, fill them with 
rich earth, and put in stout plants out of large pots. 
All this is praiseworthy enough, but still something 
more is wanted, where nothing will grow. From the 
beginning of last June, to this very date, I have had to 
plant something or another every week—trees and 
shrubs among the rest—and now 1 have got to one of 
those places where “nothipgwill grow;” a very steep 
sand-bank, full of large box-trees, trained up a long 
way with naked stems, and daylight has been let in 
amongst them from a new walk made lower down the 
bank, and wlien you look up under these box-trees, you 
see a long way, what should never be seen in a garden, 
an ugly scene ; the sand is held together by the roots of 
the box, so that between one thing and another, 
“ nothing will grow there" at least they say so, before 
the garden is full of gentry, who will see the nakedness 
of tlie place. In less than six weeks I could cover this 
bank all over with the liveliest green, if I had a bushel 
or two of the roots or tubers of Tropceolum tuberosum, 
and I believe this is the very thing, a regular discovery, 
for all those places where nothing else will grow; light 
or shade is all the same to it; sand or gravel, dank 
clay or bog, wet or dry, seem all the same for this other¬ 
wise useless plant; but there is no plant without some 
use, and here is a very useful plant, indeed, for making 
an unsightly place fit to be seen, and even admired the 
whole summer. If you have one, it will increase itself 
just like the potato, only a little faster. It also comes 
from cuttings, and I would willingly, at this moment, 
pay carriage for a bushel of the roots from the Land’s 
End. I would cut and plant them in this sand-bank 
just as I woidd so many potato sets, and they would 
soon cover it, whatever kind of weather might ensue. 
Glycine sinensis. — I once read a very curious pro¬ 
blem in the Botanical Magazine, about the number of 
pollen grains produced on a bunch of flowers, or on a 
tree of this Glycine. They were said to be less numer¬ 
able than the hairs of my head. Hence, I conclude 
some plants of it do really have pollen ; and I know one 
plant that has produced seed in England, and it must 
have had pollen, but the great majorities of the plants 
of it ill cultivation certainly do not yield any pollen at 
all. 1 never could get any; and if any gardener who 
may have a pollen-bearing Glycine, would be so good as 
to send me a few unopened iiowers, I should be very 
much obliged to him. D. Beaton. 
GREENHOUSE AND WINDOW 
GARDENING. 
Window Gardening in the North. —We are gene- ; 
rally in the habit of associating the love of flowers with : 
a keen perception of the beautiful, and a more than j 
ordinary development of the finer feelings, and the more 
lofty aspirations of humanity. Hence a garden furnishes j 
no mean commentary upon the habits, the tastes, and j 
moral sensibilities of its possessors. Neatness, regula- | 
rity, and method without, are generally attended with j 
cleanliness, comfort, and order within. If to all this, in ] 
a garden, a love of flowers is seen to be a prevailing : 
characteristic, we then expect to find a relish for all ! 
that is tender and refining, and, so far as opportunities ; 
present themselves, a taste for all that has reference to j 
