34 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER AND COUNTRY GENTLEMAN, October 19, 1858. 
may act is rather a puzzle, but still it is a fact; I suppose 
it to consist in producing a more steady and solidified 
growth, for the fly which produces the grub—the An- 
iliomyid ceparum —ever prefers the loose-grown and suc¬ 
culent crops, as far as 1 have seen. Therefore, if any¬ 
thing will tempt the grub, or rather the fly, it is making 
the soil very rich in manure, and leaving it very loose, so 
that the young Onion may grow with inordinate rapidity. 
Parsley, too, is particularly liable to canker on old and 
worn soils ; though, in general, high manuring is of much 
assistance here. But I have a case in point as to the 
effect of fresh soils on Parsley. Last winter we planted 
a trellis of Apples on the Paradise stock, and, according 
to my usual practice, made platforms for them, introduc¬ 
ing fresh, or “maiden” loam. Some of this loam be¬ 
came scattered about an adjoining border, on which I 
had Parsley sown, and, I believe, such Parsley was 
scarcely ever seen,—entirely without canker. 
I come now to Peas, these are liable to two particular 
evils, if not three, on old soils. The first, shanking ; the 
second, running to straw ; the third, mildew. The shank¬ 
ing of Peas generally occurs when they are just com¬ 
mencing to show blossom; sometimes even when only a 
couple of inches in height. This shanking is, I fancy, 
almost unknown to fresh soils. My only plan is, to cover 
the ridge, over the Peas, with clean sand: through this 
they come clear enough, but then this is fresh material. 
Punning to straw is a great evil on old soils ; this is, 
doubtless, a consequence of vegetable gluttony. The 
ground is almost choked with manures from abundance of 
humus up to fresh dung in as many cases, and the plant 
takes up more than is requisite to complete fructification. 
The absorbing powers are ahead of, and an overmatch for, 
the elaborative action. Mildew is the bane of late Peas. 
This,too, is more chargeable on old soils than on fresh ones. 
It stands thus, as I think,—the mildew never prevails to 
an injurious extent until the hot weather of summer, ac¬ 
companied by drought, occurs ; and the stronger, or more 
rapid, the previous growth, if suddenly arrested, the 
more the mildew gets ahead. 
This also is the case with Swede Turnips. In all cases 
that have come within my knowledge, deep digging is the 
chief remedy within reach; the addition of fresh, or 
charred, materials, scarcely of secondary importance. The 
deep digging, I suppose, acts by bringing near the surface 
inorganic materials, of which there are, generally, plenty 
beneath any given plot of ground; and then,—without 
recognising the doctrine of excrementitious matters, as it 
has been held by some,—who knows but some of the 
remains of former gross and pampered vegetable crops 
may be, in some degree, noxious to a succeeding crop P 
But there are various materials to be obtained with toler¬ 
able facility to freshen the soil,—such as charred rubbish, 
rotted turfy soil, from commons or road sides, and the 
limy rubbish of old buildings. Such and some other 
things are very eligible to correct the evils complained of. 
These all mixed, or any of them, should be applied 
near the surface, in spring, after an autumn’s trenching 
and ridging; the ridges levelled for spring croppings, and 
the dressing forked in near the surface. I consider that 
old gardens should be trenched every second or third 
year. Our readers must remember, that it is not a stint 
of labour that renders gardens continuously productive. 
B. Ebeington. 
LOOKING ABOUT US. 
Tub Ntjeseet oe the Messes. Veitch, at Exeter. 
{Continued from page 21.) 
I find that I must condense my imperfect recollections, 
and will, therefore, confine myself to a few prominent 
features. First, I will refer to some that are likely to be 
interesting to our amateurs, who derive so much gratifica¬ 
tion from these pet plants in their little greenhouses. 
Wc found a low, useful, span-roofed pit, filled with young 
Azaleas and Camellias, the chief expense of which, besides 
the glass, would be the low brick walls at the sides, the 
sashes being supported in the middle by a stout rail, and 
that kept in its place by a few, stout, neat posts. Few of 
the best pot greenhouse plants (and the specimens of 
many were very fine) were wholly exposed, but what 
might be termed open standing beds were provided for 
them. Some were formed just like so many pits, but all 
open, the front and back being neat posts, painted white, 
with slim, white-painted rafters between them, and not so 
high but that all could be covered in a few minutes, 
when necessary, with thin canvass or bunting. The 
principle is here carried out in everything,—if a thing is 
worth doing at all, it is worth doing well, and just because 
in the end the doing it well is the cheapest way to do it,-— 
a matter of first import to the mercantile tradesman. 
Many a rare plant is irretrievably ruined from its pot 
being exposed to a burning sun in July and August. 
Besides these pits, there are cool houses filled to over¬ 
flowing with trained Azaleas, and other plants, — an 
elegant span-roofed house for Heaths,—with slate shelves 
round the sides and the centre, occupied with a platform 
pit, bounded by brick walls, filled with earth and open 
rubble, and covered with gravel and sand, on which the 
pots are placed. Similar houses are appropriated to 
mixed collections, and were, on our visit, filled with 
elegant Fuchsias (grown on the one-stem system) and 
Balsams. The conservatory consists of a centre and two 
wings, ornamented chiefly with creepers on the roof, and 
Camellias planted out, rich with shining foliage, and well 
set with buds. There are two features particularly worth 
noticing. First, the paths are paved with flat pebbles, 
about the size of Lapstone Kidney Potatoes, with one of 
their ends upwards. When so neatly done as here, they 
make a clean, even, neat path. Secondly, along the sides 
of this pathway are placed, at something like regular 
intervals, a number of small, round, stone tables (or what 
appear to be such, for paint and sand are such deceivers), 
about fifteen or eighteen inches in diameter, for the re¬ 
ception of nice flowering plants in winter and spring. 
We used to talk of storers, but here the principle is 
openly recognised, and provision made for carrying it out 
in a systematic manner. From the roof of this con¬ 
servatory the Lapageria rosea was dangling in beautiful 
blooms, but, though very interesting there, it did not 
present such a good proof of cultural skill, as a fine plant in 
the heath-house, grown in a large pot, and trained parasol 
fashion, great numbers of blooms hanging gracefully all 
round, looking quite as pretty as the plant of the Mexa- 
centris Mysorensis, with which the same firm graced the 
exhibitions several years ago. Mr. Yeitch corroborated 
all that has been advanced by Mr. Beaton, respecting the 
treatment of this plant, namely, the necessity of thorough 
drainage, combined with abundant moisture. 
As alike interesting to amateurs and gardeners, and 
showing the nature of the climate, I would just mention 
four plants, growing vigorously and blooming freely, 
against the ends of houses, with a pathway between 
them :—1. Indigofera Australis, a perfect mass of pink 
and gracefulness. 2. Fuchsia Dominiana, covering the 
end of the house, and one mass of bloom, produced 
almost solely from the ends of shoots of moderate growth. 
To ensure this equality of growth all over, it appeared 
to me, from inspecting the plant, that the smaller middle- 
sized shoots had been allowed to grow on ; but the 
stronger ones had been freely cut back, so as to produce 
two or three shoots of moderate size. Most of these 
shoots stood out free from the wall, presenting over the 
whole a somewhat even surface of bloom. The plant 
continues to bloom during most of the winter, with the 
assistance of some sashes placed against it. 3. Fuchsia 
pendulina, almost as great an ornament as Dominiana; 
and raised also, as far as I can recollect, by the inde¬ 
fatigable foreman, Mr. Dominy, from serralifolia, crossed 
