1868.] 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
361 
originated in a shoot from a common Labur¬ 
num, with yellow flowers, into which the Pur¬ 
ple Laburnum had been grafted. The same tree 
produces flowers intermediate between the two 
sorts, and those also which have reverted to 
one or the other parent form. One cluster will 
bear both yellow and purple flowers, and a sin¬ 
gle flower has been seen divided into halves, 
one half being purple and the other yellow. 
Instances are recorded in which blue and red 
hyacinth bulbs had been cut in two, and the 
halves of the blue and red grew together and pro¬ 
duced a united stem with flowers of two colors 
on opposite sides, and not only this, but flowers 
in which the two colors were blended together. 
Red and blue potatoes have had their eyes 
grafted reciprocally into one another, and some 
of the tubers resulting from the plants thus 
produced, showed indications of a cross. Mr. 
Darwin does not cite the case of our sweet and 
sour apple, but does that of a French variety 
still more striking. Mr. Barry long ago sug¬ 
gested that our mucli-talked-of sweet and sour 
apple was a graft hybrid. We thus briefly 
allude to this interesting subject, to direct atten¬ 
tion to cases that bear upon the point. Isolated 
facts that in themselves seem to have but little 
importance, when collected and classified as 
they are in this remarkable work of Mr. Darwin, 
to which we have referred, often tend to give 
us new views of the workings of nature. 
• ■ -—--—- 
Sticks, Strings, and Wires. 
Our Pennsylvania friend will say that sticks 
and strings in the garden are “ agiu’ nater.” Of 
course they are—and so is all gardening. If 
one attempts anything at ornamental garden¬ 
ing, if it be only one plant in the front yard, we 
wish him to do it well. If it be only a Morning 
Glory against the house, let him give it a good 
strong string to run upon. Attention to or neglect 
of sticks and strings makes all the difference 
between a well-kept place and a shabby one. 
A slight support will often make a plant show 
at its best, while the same plant if left to be 
whipped about by the winds and beaten down 
by the rains w'ould be a nuisance. Do not let 
these artificial aids be conspicuous. The stores 
have green sticks with white tops for Dahlias 
and such plants. Sticks like these are an abom¬ 
ination. So arc the complicated trellises which 
come to New York by the cart-load. Where 
supports are to be used, keep them out of sight; 
common sticks with the bark on are as unob¬ 
trusive as anything, but if sawed stuff must be 
used, paint it of some drab or brown color. 
Painting of these sticks is easily done. Get the 
painter to mix a lot of thin paint; then have 
the tinman make a cylinder as long as the stick 
to be painted—a sort of stove pipe with a bot¬ 
tom to it—put the paint into the cylinder, and 
dip the sticks. The painting can thus be done 
with great rapidity and better than with a brush. 
As to strings, a great variety of material may be 
used. Don’t let it be too strong, only have some¬ 
thing always at hand, even if it be the ravel- 
lings of an old stocking. A straggling plant, 
or lot of plants, can often be made comely by 
simply drawing a string around them. We like 
to have small galvanized wire handy, and find 
it of essential service in the garden. Crinoline 
is no respecter of plants, and where there is a 
travelled path near a border the plants are likely 
to get the worst of it. We stretch a wire about 
a foot above the surface along the edges of the 
border, and defy crinoline to do its worst. Wire 
of this kind comes in nicely for all sorts of 
climbers; it is cheap, and much more permanent 
than strings, which are always too tight or too 
slack. For general tying -we have found nothing 
better than a good, soft, cotton twine—not the 
grocer’s article, which is more starch than cot¬ 
ton, but a well-made, honest, pure cotton twine. 
Have You Any Chrysanthemums ? 
If any one who lias a garden has no Chry¬ 
santhemums we advise him to get some at once. 
It is not too late, and any florist will give him a 
set at a small cost. Put them out and then give 
them good cultivation. Because they only 
bloom when everything else has done they are 
too often neglected. We appreciate them when 
in flower—flowering after the hard frosts have 
killed all the tender plants—but we do not always 
think in time that it is the summer care that 
gives us this autumn harvest of bloom. How 
glorious they are in the November days, bring¬ 
ing back memories of summer! Let us, then, 
now prepare for this enjoyment. The first 
thing to do with a Chrysanthemum, after it has 
fairly started, is to snub it. Remorselessly pinch 
off its top, and it will give thanks for the treat¬ 
ment by throwing out a dozen side branches ; 
pinch these again, and again, until a compact 
bush is obtained. It will seem hard to the inex¬ 
perienced to do this, but in autumn he will be 
rewarded by such a profusion of flowers that 
he will regret that be did not pincli a little 
more. We are now speaking of Chrysanthe¬ 
mums out of doors and in common gardens; 
those who make show plants for the exhibitions 
grow but one or few flowers on a stem, and aim 
at a different object. We go in for a perfect 
blaze of flowers, without regard to the perfection 
of individual ones. Give the sun of Indian 
summer something to reflect its own rich light 
—therefore let us have more Chrysanthemums. 
— ■ ■ ■ » —«a-^pi" > » 
A Word About Budding. 
We have probably a dozen or twenty letters 
asking us how to bud. Some might consider it 
an annoyance to be asked to repeat, year after 
year, the very elementary things of horticulture. 
We do not. The Agriculturist is for the gen¬ 
eral public, and what its readers ask for they 
shall have—so far as we are able to supply it. 
—Now about budding. If our correspondents 
could go and see a nurseryman put in one bud, 
they would learn more about the operation than 
from all the descriptions that were ever written. 
If they cannot see the thing done, we will do 
the best we can to help them. The bud used 
in this kind of propagation is formed at the base 
of a leaf—in its axil, as the botanists say. It 
has within it all the possibilities of a branch. 
If left where it is, it might become a branch. 
Just as the seed is planted in the soil we take 
this bud—which is for our purposes a seed—and 
plant it, not in the soil, but in another tree. The 
mechanical operation is so simple that a boy or 
girl of twelve years can do it. Stocks fit to bud 
are the first requirement: i. e., those in full 
growth, and of which the bark will “ run,” or 
easily part from the wood. Buds well developed 
are the next. Cut the twig for the “ stick of 
buds ” from the variety desired to propagate; 
cut off the leaves, leaning the leaf stalks , and do 
not let it dry. Make a T incision in the bark 
of the stock, on the north side, and as close to 
the ground as a smooth piece of bark can be 
found; cut out a bud from the “ stick of buds ” 
with an inch or inch and a half of bark, lift 
the flaps at the angles of the T incision of the 
stock, and push this bud down under the bark; 
cut the bark of the bud off even with the hori¬ 
zontal part of the T incision, and then bind it 
tightly with bass bark, corn husks, old rags, or 
whatever is at hand, of course leaving the bud 
exposed. In the majority of cases the bud will 
next spring be found alive and ready to grow, 
when all of the stock above it must be cut away. 
Now, we have briefly described what we have 
several times given before with figures. How¬ 
ever much we may wish to do so, we cannot 
give the same illustrations over and over, and 
those friends who do not find here sufficient di¬ 
rections to enable them to bud had better send 
for the American Agriculturist for July, 1866. 
Do You Belong to It? 
By “ It,” we mean the American Bornologi¬ 
cal Society, and by “You,” we appeal to every 
fruit grower who can afford a dollar a year for 
the promotion of pomological knowledge. The 
Society is a National one, and its aims are the de¬ 
velopment of American Pomology, in its broad¬ 
est sense. It collects what is known as a guide 
to those who would follow in a trodden path, 
as well as to that large class of experimenters 
who w r ould essay the unknown. The President 
of the Society is that venerable—we had almost 
written revered—pomologist, Col. Marshall P. 
Wilder, and its list of officers and members in¬ 
cludes the fruit growers of the country. Its 
meetings are held every two years—(next year 
in Philadelphia), and its “ transactions ” are 
more important than its meetings. Each mem¬ 
ber who pays two dollars gets a copy of these 
transactions, and they contain the pomological 
knowledge of the country “ biled down.” The 
fruit committee, comprising such men as Down¬ 
ing, Barry, Elliott, and others of that stamp, 
make up the list of fruits—a catalogue “rai- 
sonne,” as the French say—which shows at a 
glance the standing of the different varieties of 
fruits in the various States. We do not place 
any high estimate on the reported discussions, 
but this catalogue or fruit list is of great value. 
It is made up by men of the highest ability, men 
who work solely for the good of the cause, and 
it is the business of every fruit grower to see 
that he contributes his mite towards the publi¬ 
cation of such valuable labors. Let us all go 
in and make the American Pomological Society 
a grand success.-N. B.—Thomas P. James, 
of Philadelphia, Pa., is the perpetual Treasurer. 
•-—— — -g M— —*-<»-• 
Orchard Grass in Lawns.— Orchard grass 
is valuable in its place, but that place is not on 
a lawn. There can be no more ridiculous exhi¬ 
bition than that we see from our office windows 
in City Hall Park. Some official goose last 
year sowed the “grass plots” with Orchard 
Grass, and this year other geese have been try¬ 
ing to hack the grass into something like sub¬ 
jection. When the city officials succeed in mak¬ 
ing a lawn out of Orchard Grass we shall let our 
readers know it. Persistent mowing is the best 
thing that can be done with it, but this will 
hardly make lawn grass of it. Better root out 
the ugly tufts altogether, and put in Red-top, 
June, or Blue Grass, or any other kind that does 
not make tussocks. The two worst among our 
common grasses for a lawn are Orchard Grass 
and Timothy; no mowing will break up their 
tendency to form stools or tussocks. With Red- 
top, June or Kentucky Blue Grass, or Italian 
Rye Grass, a dense and velvety sward may soon 
be formed by frequent mowing and rolling. 
