THE COTTAGE GARDENER AND COUNTRY GENTLEMAN, Eebkdabt 15, 1859. 
30 g 
my waterpots, wliat some noted waterers would call a 
sort of holiday. I prefer the spade to the waterpot. 
The practice I recommend for late crops of Peas to 
withstand mildew, stands thus:—The line being stretched 
where the row is to come, throw out a trench one foot 
in depth, a spade’s width on each side of the line. Now 
flood the bottom with water, if not too retentive, making 
it thoroughly moist. Nest, think of manure, some which 
will hold moisture a long time. For this purpose it 
should not be highly decomposed, but what is called 
half-rotten, and some that feels sticky, not crumbling 
stuff like leaf soil. I spread six inches over the excava¬ 
tion, and dig it in boldly a spade’s depth, endeavouring 
to mix it with the soil beneath. We have now a hollow 
of six inches ; and to this apply a second dressing of older 
compost, adding also plenty of charred rubbish to it, to 
the depth of three inches more, and on this spread three 
inches of the excavated soil, and then well mix the two 
together ; but do not bring up the bottom layer. 
All will now be level again; and the next thing is to 
draw the Pea-drill at once, five inches deep, and then to 
soak it with water, without puddling it. The drill should 
now remain for a day, to settle fairly, and then the Peas 
may be sown. In the next place, I advise caution in the use 
of pea-sticks. We are all compelled occasionally to use 
old sticks ; but let me advise as strongly as I can, using 
them for the earlier Peas. Old sticks are noted for this 
obscure and insidious order of vegetation; and who can 
doubt, that the spores, or mycelium, of this mildew, finds 
a winter residence in these same old sticks ? 
Again, alluding to the tenderness of the lower portion 
of the stems of Peas. I well remember that when first 
I launched fairly into the world of gardening, “ armed 
at all points,” as my youthful enthusiasm fancied, that I 
had no patience when my earliest Peas came forth in 
January, until the rake was passed over them. To loosen 
the soil was the plea; but in truth, I think, in order to 
make the crop look more forward than it really was. 
Now, that sprouting Peas like the soil moved a little, is 
true ; but an iron rake passed over their tender heads they 
abhor. Moreover, by this process, they are in danger of 
having a portion of their blanched stems too suddenly 
exposed to light, and the vicissitudes of the atmosphere; 
and this is exceedingly injurious. Young gardeners 
should bear this matter well in mind, for it is not only 
Peas, but most other things : no blanched stem will bear 
sudden exposure. Thus it is a general rule with plants 
which, on removal, show blanching in the lower portions 
of the stems, to plant them so that such blanched portions 
are below the ground level. It. Eekington. 
COVERING VINE BORDERS. 
I intended saying a few words on this subject some 
weeks ago ; but even now it is not too late for most of 
our readers. I do not think I can add anything, except 
in the way of illustration, to what was advanced some 
time ago, tending to show that the benefit of protecting 
depended greatly on the depth of the roots; the condition 
of the soil as to drainage and comfortable dryness; and 
the time as to earliness or lateness when the A r ine was 
forced. At present, the matter most in debate is not so 
much protecting the borders of forced Vines, as whether 
that should be done by loose litter or by fermenting 
material; in connection with the question, whether it is 
possible to transmit heat downwards by such a process, 
and yet not harm the roots of the Vines. To this, also, 
wo will make an incidental allusion; leaving to our good 
friends the equal right to form and express their opinions. 
There can be no question that in very early forcing 
many failures took place from a total disregard to stimu¬ 
lating into activity the roots as well as the branches. A 
branch from a Peach tree, or a Vine, growing against an 
open wall, is taken into a late house, and ripens its fruit 
a fortnight or three weeks earlier than the exposed tree ; 
and the conclusion is jumped to, that, provided the 
branches are forced, it matters but little what may be 
the temperature at the roots. The scheme is tried in 
January or February in the case of a plant, the bulk of 
whose roots is only from six to nine inches below the 
surface. A sharp frost ensues, penetrating to as much 
as that depth; and inquiries are sent to all the garden¬ 
ing periodicals as to what can be the reason that the 
young Peaches drop, and the leaves flag, and the Vines 
flag, and the bunches say “good-bye” in fine, sunny, 
frosty weather. There was, and could be, no reciprocal 
action between the roots and branches. If the roots had 
been a foot deeper—or if from six to twelve inches of 
litter had been thrown over the surface—the frost would 
not have penetrated, and a languid circulation might have 
been obtained, and the mischief averted. 
Take an opposite case. Here is a vinery, the forcing 
of which commenced in December: the border is deep, 
and waterlogged from want of drainage; the bulk of the 
roots is from eighteen to thirty inches below the surface, 
and long, bare, and lanky they are. The Vine produced 
last season parasol foliage, luxuriant wood, and largo 
bunches, but bad-coloured and shanked. The gardener 
has been advised, not only that the roots are too deep, 
but too cold. lie resolves that they shall have heat this 
season ; and forthwith claps on the border a depth of 
eighteen inches to twenty-four inches of fermenting 
matter, as if he intended his border for the base of his 
Cucumber and Melon ground. He knows the border 
was wet before covering; and that the water, from the 
impossibility of getting out or away, hangs in it' like a 
sponge during the winter and spring. If, in such circum¬ 
stances, the heat could get down, he never stops to 
inquire what might be the result of placing the roots in a 
warm bath. "What troubles him is, that he cannot get 
the heat down. He can make the surface hot enough; 
but whether he feels his trial-sticks, or pulls up his sunk 
thermometers, all tell him the same tale—that be 3 r ond a 
few inches in depth, it beats him to get a temperature 
above 46° or 48°, and that is but a meagre return for all 
his trouble. If he is anxious to know the cause, let him 
have a gossip with the seaman, who, when becalmed in 
the tropics, could plunge his bucket to a considerable 
depth, and thence bring up water bracing cold in com- 
arison of the hot fluid seething at the surface. Or, let 
im take a walk with that intelligent young farmer- 
neighbour of his, and note between this and April the 
very different appearance of the Wheat plant in the same 
field—in one place green, flourishing, and tillering beau¬ 
tifully; in another, at no great distance, yellow, and 
starved-like in appearance. Why? Because one part 
was drained, and no cold water waterlogged the roots in 
winter: and because the other was undrained, and was 
not only sodden and ice-chilled in winter, but the very 
sun in spring, that heated the drained land, tended at 
first to cool the undrained land before the moisture could 
be dispersed by surface-evaporation. Heat, either from 
the sun or otherwise, has little power to diffuse itself 
through a liquid downwards, or through any body satu¬ 
rated with a liquid. 
Although these matters are well known to the expe¬ 
rienced, I would gladly refer for elucidation and con¬ 
firmation topp. 97 and 98 of the “ Gardener’s Assistant,” 
by Mr. Thompson; a work that, judging from what has 
already appeared, ought to be a favourite with most 
gardening readers, and especially with amateurs and 
young gardeners. I may just here note in passing, that 
I know little of the peculiar secrets of authorcraft and 
publishing; aud therefore nothing at all of the reasons 
why Mr. Thompson should be made known to us as the 
member of several foreign societies, and not a word said 
of his long and honourable connection with the Horti¬ 
cultural Society of London ; though in that capacity no 
man could be more generally respected, alike for great 
