Restoring Old Shrubs to Vigor 
HOW TO MAKE THE DERELICTS OF OLD GARDENS FLOURISH AND BLOOM 
AGAIN—THE WHOLE MATTER OF PRUNING AND TRANSPLANTING SHRUBS 
by Grace Tabor 
Photographs by H. H. Saylor 
4 
T HE shrubs most likely to be found growing where old gar¬ 
dens have been, or around old houses, are lilacs, the old 
Carolina allspice or sweet shrub—called by some strawberry shrub 
—Tartarian honeysuckle, snowberry, privet or prim, as some 
know it, the fragrant syringa or mock orange, snowballs, “bridal 
wreath,” rose of Sharon, barberry, and last but far from least, the 
delicious, bitter old boxwood. These are the shrubs therefore to 
which special reference is made in all that follows. 
Of them all the box¬ 
wood, elusive, uncertain 
and difficult to establish 
upon occasion, yet often 
thriving lustily under the 
seemingly adverse condi¬ 
tions of old, neglected 
dooryards alone does not 
show neglect. Gaunt and 
twisted and “skinny,” the 
bare branches of the other 
old bushes are lifted pite¬ 
ously from the tangled 
vegetation; but the box¬ 
wood is superior to all 
this. Nothing under¬ 
takes to choke it, or to en¬ 
croach upon its rightful 
territory, for it bears itself 
with a severe dignity that 
holds even the most law¬ 
less weed at a distance; 
and instead of growing 
gaunt and shivery and 
naked, it grows rotund 
and snug and more and 
more contented-looking as 
time passes. So with box¬ 
wood, all there is to do is 
cut away any dead wood, 
trim the grass at its feet 
and let it go on just as it 
has been doing, all by it¬ 
self. It is very much above 
the ministrations of man. 
With the other things 
there is work enough, however, to satisfy the most energetic— 
and work that may begin at practically any season, for the first 
of it is simply a house-cleaning sort of job, preparatory to the 
actual task of renovating. First of all the ground around, up to, 
and within the branches, must be laid bare. Every weed and blade 
of grass must be raked and scraped and cut away; and this may, 
of course, be done at any season. It is just as well, however, to 
let it go if winter is immediately at hand, for the removal of such 
protection as dead grasses and stems from the roots of the shrub 
is not wise, especially as the plant has grown used to having them 
there. But autumn is not too late to get at it, for the winter 
mulch will take the place of this mulch of Nature. 
Go over the ground with grass shears and cut everything down 
— every little blade of grass that springs up between the shrub's 
branches and every fugitive, tiny weed seedling. Then dig over 
the entire surface and root out everything that has been cut off. 
With an old dense shrub that has stood fifty years this is not the 
task of a few idle moments. Among its branches, between and 
against them and sometimes twining around them, all sorts of 
persistent things will have established themselves; and these will 
resist stoutly the effort to dislodge them. Not another thing should 
be done, however, until 
they are dislodged, for 
they must come out before 
the shrub itself can have 
anything like its proper 
share of nourishment 
from the soil. Even the 
tiny grass blade is a rob- 
b e r — every single one 
counts against the work 
of rehabilitation. 
When this basement 
clean ing is completed, 
look the specimen over 
carefully, taking each 
branch in turn and follow¬ 
ing it from its top to the 
ground to see exactly its 
condition. There may be 
an immense number of 
branches, crowding and 
rubbing against each other 
so that every one is 
bruised and injured when¬ 
ever there is the slightset 
wind, or there may be 
very few branches, long 
and straggling, showing a 
great deficiency in nour¬ 
ishment, light or space, or 
all three. 
W’hen the former con¬ 
dition exists it is likely 
that the branches are sim¬ 
ply a profusion of water 
sprouts or suckers. These 
are rank growths sprouting from the roots, from the branches 
down near the ground or around the crown of the shrub, and 
they hardly seem to be a part of the shrub proper. Their leaves 
are often of unusual size compared to the leaves of the shrub in 
its normal condition—just as the leaves of very young growths 
are likely to be — and they bear every evidence of receiving all 
the vigor of the plant, while the old top dwindles and withers, 
starving to death. 
This growth of suckers is especially likely to occur when large 
branches have been ruthlessly pulled from the bush, as is the case 
so often with old lilacs and syringas. Picking armfuls of bloom 
amounts to a heavy top pruning, and heavy top pruning always 
tends to encourage—or rather to force—the production of wood 
With care even the oldest shrub may be restored to its former vigor. This hardy 
hydrangea is all the better for its strong, woody, tree-like growth 
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