The Garden Magazine, March, 1923 
49 
WHERE BIRDS LOVE TO CONGREGATE 
The Ivy Geranium planted in the corners of the bird-bath (see 
accompanying text) and sprinkled all summer long by visiting 
birds still holds its green on November 29, 1922, when this pic¬ 
ture was taken, Iris blades sheathe the base, and Alyssum flowers 
hardily near by. Garden of “Alar” at Corvallis, Oregon 
Early-Flowering type is not so hardy as the Pompon, but as it blooms 
earlier and makes a blaze of color all through the month of October, it 
is well worth the little extra care needed. As one enthusiast remarked: 
“When I think of the money I paid out for Geraniums, Coleus, and 
other bedding plants each year, I believe the Chrysanthemum is my 
cheapest flower, even if 1 had to replace every plant every year.” And 
I think that the same feeling is entertained by a majority of present 
day gardeners who have discovered the once popular “bedders.” 
If one has a coldframe it pays to put in a stock plant or two of each 
variety, so as to be sure of cuttings for the next year; but, in most 
sections, if the stools are covered with dried leaves, and kept covered 
until the shoots are pushing through in the spring, the loss is not great 
—unless the location is very wet, and the stock plants are frozen in 
cakes of ice. 
More plants are killed in the early spring than any other time, due to 
the frosty nights and clear bright days, with the consequent freezing 
and thawing of the stock plants.— Charles H. Totty, Madison, N. J, 
A Backyard Victory Over a City Ordinance 
To the Editors of The Garden Magazine: 
T HE city ordinance required a fire-proof wall without windows 
v/hen the garage was placed on the property line. In this instance 
a bare and thoroughly uncompromising wall of hollow tile reared its 
ugly face overlooking the garden on the adjoining lot. The challenge 
was direct and the problem at once attacked. 
The first move was the construction of the trellis for the general 
support of non-clinging vines. This was made of § by if inch wood 
strips nailed together in one foot rectangles, painted green and attached 
to the wall to leave about six inches between wall and trellis. This 
allowed the clinging vines to ascend the wall while the climbing vines 
used the trellis. The detail picture shows the charming texture pro¬ 
duced by the broad leaves of Boston Ivy (Ampelopsis Veitchi) and the 
finer leaves of the Dorothy Perkins Rose in combination, while the 
bloom of the Roses sets off the whole. The wren house completes the 
picture. The corner of this garden, that was so grievously assailed, 
has become one of its most charming features through simple methods, 
and at an expenditure entirely within the means of all city garden 
makers.— Herbert L. Flint, Cleveland, Ohio. 
Making Hospitality With Your Own Hands 
To the Editors of The Garden Magazine: 
1 AM one of the many who raise a few flowers in my front yard—I 
will not call it a cottage garden—free-blooded Americans do not like 
the term, we in the West might take more kindly to the appellation of 
bungalow garden—but anyway it is small, it is not planned by a land¬ 
scape artist. Like Topsy “it just growed,” and sometimes it failed 
to grow in spots, and sometimes the much planned combinations did not 
combine, or the colors prove true, and often I wonder why I enjoy read¬ 
ing The Garden Magazine whose illustrations of wonderful gardens 
make me envious and whose articles make me long for flowers and 
garden accessories I cannot have. 
Every time I have seen pictures of fine bird baths I have very nearly 
broken the tenth commandment to say the least; it mattered not that 
marble basin or the sculptor’s art would be out of place in my simple 
unconventional garden, “still the longing grew,” and I put my wits 
to work to fashion one more in keeping with its surroundings and my 
resources. In answer to my appeal, a good friend up in the hills 
brought me a nice, straight, round post with the bark on, and I planted 
it near a corner of the yard where I thought a bird bath should stand, 
fastened a flat box on top, about six inches deep and fifteen inches 
“A BACKYARD VICTORY” 
Dorothy Perkins Roses and Boston Ivy completely obliterate 
the ugliness of a windowless, fire-proof garage wall, and a 
wren house adds the final touch of interest to a once bleak 
corner; home of Mr. Herbert L. Flint, Cleveland Hts., Ohio 
