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69 
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THE GARDEN OF “OUR COUNTRY 
COTTAGE.” 
I hold, that with the blood of the “grand old 
Gard’ner,” there has been transmitted to each de¬ 
scendant a faint memory of that garden, “ eastward in 
Eden.” Hence every man’s longing for at least a 
small plot of ground wherein to plant his fruit trees 
or flowering shrubs. One of these amateur garden¬ 
ers, within the last ten years, has converted a three 
acre “common” into a bit of living beauty that I 
will endeavor to draw a pen picture of, for the bene¬ 
fit of others, who like our amateur are, perhaps, not 
able to employ a landscape gardener to lay out the 
walks in studied curves, or to arrange in geometrical 
figures the beds for their loved flowers, but them¬ 
selves must spade, rake, plant and roll the garden, 
which in the passing years will pay so large an 
interest, not in dollars and cents, but in real pleasure, 
for the labor expended. 
In our garden, the cottage is placed a little to 
the left of the centre, and is in itself an ornament, 
with its rustic porches, climbing Roses and Wistarias 
hung in their season with great clusters of blossoms, 
purple and white. The principal gate is on the 
north, and as it swings open, shows within a grav¬ 
elled carriage road, bordered by closely cut grass; 
further on, a group of half-grown forest trees, inter¬ 
cepting the view with their varying shades of green, 
turns the drive aside towards the left, where it 
passes under the shadows of scattered oak, elm and 
maple, and emerging from these for a short distance 
is bordered by a narrow hedge-row of Spirea, already 
full of feathery flowers, while here and there a bush 
with pink tufts holds its way. On the right of this, 
lies the broad grass-plot, with beds of daintiest 
flowers—the central one a belt of Verbenas around a 
vase of Clematis. How it overflows with the white 
blossoms ! a cup of foam falling on the gay carpet at 
its base ! The road winds by this and in front of the 
cottage veranda, then passes around the house towards 
the west, and after a few yards more of lawn and low 
shrubbery, is hidden in an avenue of evergreens, 
beyond which it divides, one leading to the carriage- 
house, whose doors open into the yard, the other 
doubling back upon itself in a graceful curve, re¬ 
enters the avenue. The evergreens were intended 
partly to break the force of heavy winds; they are 
composed of Scotch Pine, Norway Spruce and Red 
Cedar; they were planted about ten years ago—in 
two rows—the evergreens nine feet distant; they 
now measure in height from twelve to fifteen feet, 
and the branches interlace, forming a thick wall on 
each side of the drive; iu winter, when the snow 
lies thick on the green boughs, it is a sight well 
worth a long walk to see, and in summer an added 
beauty is given by the number of native Ferns that 
thrive in the nooks and among the masses of Violets 
which cluster about the tree roots and push their 
way to the edges of the drive. West of this the 
ground has been terraced, and this is ornamented 
with a large circular bed; in its centre grows a 
Carina, and ranged around it in good order numbers 
of Geraniums, Feverfews, Heliotropes, Lantanas, 
Salvias, scarlet, blue and white, with several varieties 
of Coleus, and the whole surrounded with a band of the 
so called “ Dusty Miller,” edged with Drummond 
Phlox. 
Aside from the intrinsic beauty of our garden, it has 
two recommendations, the perfect order in which it is 
kept and the modicum of daily labor required to keep 
it so. The wonder is that our neighbor farmers can 
look upon this spot of beauty and not imitate the 
example. Anne Haslett. 
HOUSE PLANTS. 
Roses and Geraniums are my especial pets, though 
there are many others in my collection, and 1 delight 
in hanging baskets, with vines running up and down 
Plan 
Country Cottage.” 
and twining about in all sorts of graceful and fantastic 
forms. Some of them are now five and six feet long, 
the Cobsea Scandens perhaps twenty, though they 
were not started early and will have a long time to 
grow yet, and besides I was absent several weeks, 
leaving them to the kindly influences of sun and dew 
and a light cellar in winter); these are clean sand, 
well rotted manure from the cow-yard, garden mould 
and plenty of water; these, properly proportioned, 
will form the sinew of roots and the perfume and 
beauty of flowers, and any one can procure them with¬ 
out cost and with very little trouble—yes, I forgot the 
sunshine, but it is not expensive where I live. For 
the Zonales, the Peppermint and the Oak-leaved vari¬ 
eties, mix them in equal quantities, even allowing the 
manure to predominate. But for the Rose-scented 
varieties, the Apple, Lemon, Shrubland Pet, etc., a 
lighter soil is best. Every evening give them a thor¬ 
ough sprinkling with water that has stood some time 
in the sun, and in the afternoon, or any time during 
the day if they seem to be drooping, pour plenty of 
water around the roots, but do not wet the leaves 
while the sun is shining full upon them. At least 
once a day clip off the dead leaves and turn the pots 
around—make them grow by smiling upon them and 
touching them with loving fingers. Then if there is 
a worm in the bud, any caterpillar or moth fretting 
the leaves or ruthlessly destroying the branches, you 
will discover it. If there should be worms in the 
pots, a few wood ashes sprinkled over the surface 
and gently worked in is the best remedy I have tried. 
Then have some thin pieces of wood, about a half 
inch wide—have plenty of them scattered about 
ready to your hand whenever you have a leisure 
moment—and every ten days or two weeks gently 
turn the soil over and hill it up to the roots. Give 
them plenty of sunshine, and when it rains set them 
all out in the yard so they can have the full benefit 
of the shower. 
That is about all I do to mine, except to love 
them almost as if they were sentient beings. I have 
now about thirty seedling Geraniums, besides others 
of older growth, raised from cuttings planted at first 
in the pots and the soil in which they were to remain, 
and I have never seen such splendid, compact trusses 
as they have borne this summer. They are so littlo 
trouble and afford so much pleasure I cannot under¬ 
stand why every lady does not surround her home with 
them. L. J. R. 
and what chance watering they might receive. It is 
a great mistake about flowers being so expensive and 
so much trouble; to bo sure you can make them so, 
but one can have very beautiful ones, with but little of 
either. I only use four agents in my window-garden 
(though it is not a window, but a veranda in summer 
"Watering Plants. —When the weather is hot 
and dry, I draw water from the well in the morning, 
let it warm in the sun through the day, and towards 
night I water my plants. I was obliged to water 
them nearly every day last summer for more than a 
month. I should have had no flowers if I had not. 
Petunias. — I wish I could convey to you some 
idea of the beauty of my Petunia bed. 1 planted 
the seed (new German Hybrid) in the house the first 
week of March. Pricked them out in pots and bas¬ 
kets, and transplanted them into beds about the mid¬ 
dle of May, setting them from twelve to eighteen 
inches apai’t. They grew finely, and soon the bed 
was completely covered with the many-shaded, col¬ 
ored, variegated, mottled and finely pencilled flowers. 
I think they are the most beautiful I ever saw; every 
day there are flowers with new markings. My Ver¬ 
bena bed is also very beautiful—it is filled with the 
largest and finest plants I have ever seen. Friends 
who come to see my flowers say, “How nice your 
flowers look; I never saw so many outside of a green¬ 
house.” 
Virginia Creeper.—I find Virginia Creeper good 
for covering old walls, fences, etc., that are less pleas¬ 
ing to the eye than the mass of green foliage, which 
turns to crimson on the approach of frost. 
Mrs. Chastina J. Agard. 
Staffordville, Conn. 
