390 
JOURNAL  OF  HORTICULTURE  AND  COTTAGE  GARDENER, 
October  22,  1896, 
rockwork  are  now  well  carried  out  in  many  gardeni,  and  extremely 
interesting,  as  well  as  effective,  they  are  when  well  planted. 
First  there  are  the  artificial  grottos,  streams,  dripping  wells, 
and  massive  rocks  formed  by  specialists  who  frequently  advertise 
in  the  Journal  of  Horticulture.  Their  work  is  indeed  a  faithful 
imitation  of  Nature  ;  so  true  is  this,  that  it  is  seldom  indeed 
that  they  fail  to  pass  as  Nature’s  handiwork.  Some  nook 
or  corner  in  every  garden  of  pretension  ought,  I  think,  be 
fitted  op  in  this  way,  for  it  is  a  feature  that  lasts  and  gives 
comparatively  little  trouble  when  once  plants  are  established 
in  and  among  the  rocks.  Then  there  is  that  other  and  more 
common  form  of  rockery  worked  out  on  banks,  ridges,  and  in 
dells,  the  principal  object  in  view  in  this  instance  being  to  provide 
suitable  poiitions  for  the  numerous  alpine  and  other  plants  which 
thrive  and  show  off  to  the  greatest  advantage  when  they  can 
ramble  over  stones,  and  secure  in  other  ways  conditions  somewhat 
similar  to  those  they  enjoy  in  their  native  habitats. 
Plenty  of  stones  of  considerable  size  are,  of  course,  necessary 
for  the  formation  of  theie,  and  a  little  practice  will  soon  enable 
any  gardener  with  an  eye  to  the  artistic  to  work  out  features 
beautiful  indeed,  because  perfectly  natural.  If  we  want  a  lesson 
in  this  kind  of  work  we  have  only  to  go  to  the  mountains  and  glen* 
of  Britain,  where  we  can  see  the  rocks  not  only  in  their  solid  strata, 
but  blocks  of  varying  sizes,  and  almost  every  coucei/able  shape 
■trewn  about  in  charming  confusion,  and  giving  a  capital  picture 
for  us  to  copy  on  a  •miniature  scale  in  our  rock  garden.  Broken 
and  uprooted  tree  stumps  may  frequently  be  noticed  above  or 
among  these  broken  rocks.  In  our  rock  garden,  too,  they  may  be 
used  with  capital  effect,  as  there  are  hosts  of  climbing  plants  with 
which  they  may  be  quickly  partially  draped,  but  not  so  thickly  as 
to  hide  the  tree  roots  altogether. 
How  beautiful  arches  and  arbours  covered  with  Boses  are. 
There  is,  I  think,  no  more  lovely  sight  in  a  garden  than  an  arch 
laden  with  clusters  of  Rjses  borne  on  long  untrained  shoots, 
especially  in  the  quiet  of  a  June  evening  when  their  fragrance 
mingles  with  the  air.  I  fancy  these  are  not  so  numerous  a*  they 
should  be  in  gardens,  for  in  how  many  do  we  see  positions  where 
a  well-placed  arch  would  be  a  great  improvement.  In  old  gardens 
arched  walks  are  perhaps  more  common  than  in  newer  ones  ;  this 
is  not  as  it  should  be,  but  I  think  we  can  improve  upon  the  form 
there  adopted.  The  favourite  method  was  to  arch  a  walk  com¬ 
pletely  over,  leaving  a  few  open  spaces  here  and  there.  The 
principal  beauty  of  these  Rose  “  tunnels  ”  could  only  be  seen  from 
the  outside,  the  interior  view  being  formed  of  the  framework  of 
the  arch,  the  Rose  shoots,  and  a  few  weak  leaves,  which  were  pining 
for  more  air  and  sunshine.  A  much  more  attractive  way  of  arching 
a  Rose  walk  is,  I  think,  to  place  at  interval*  of  from  9  to  12  feet  a 
series  of  arches  15  inches  in  width.  Strong  plants  quickly  cover 
these,  and  shoot*  of  various  lengths  can  be  loosely  trained  under 
the  apex  of  the  arch  as  well  as  on  the  top  ;  we  thus  obtain  a  mass 
of  Roses  on  both  the  inner  and  outer  surface  of  each  arch  when 
this  space  is  covered. 
Poles  of  wire  can  be  fixed  to  connect  the  whole  of  the  arches 
at  their  highest  points  ;  strong  shoots  will  then  cover  these,  from 
which  the  tiny  wreaths  of  Roses  will  depend.  This  form  of 
arching  has  also  the  advantage  of  leaving  plenty  of  open  space  to 
view  other  objects  of  interest  on  either  side,  by  contrast  with 
which  the  delicate  or  rich  tints  of  the  Roses  are  displayed  to  full 
advantage. — H.  D. 
HARDY  FLOWER  NOTES. 
Nature  has  for  some  time  been  in  an  unkindly  mood.  At 
least  so  do  we  think,  although  were  we  better  acquainted  with  the 
great  principles  by  which  the  Government  of  the  Universe  is 
guided  we  would  discover  all-sufficient  reasons  in  support  of  the 
weather,  as  well  as  of  other  things.  But  we  can  only  for  the  time 
look  at  the  surface  of  things,  and  so  do  we  sadly  think  of  drenched 
flowers  bewailing  their  hapless  lot.  The  rain  fell  in  the  South  long 
before  it  began  here,  and  now  we  wonder  if  we  shall  have  to  grieve 
over  dripping  skies  and  weeping  flowers,  instead  of  enjoying  in  a 
p’acid  way  as  befitted  the  season  the  last  of  our  flower*  of  autumn. 
Now,  of  a  truth  we  see,  as  the  Poet  Laureate  says  : — 
“  The  creamy  Elder  mellowed  into  wine, 
The  russet  hip  that  was  the  pink- white  Rose ; 
The  amber  Woodbine  into  rubies  turned, 
The  Blackberry  that  was  the  Bramble  bom.” 
The  woods  are  glowing  with  their  autumn  tints  ;  the  Bracken 
on  the  mountain  side  has  assumed  its  russet  hue  ;  hedge*  are 
thinning  fast,  and  in  the  garden’s  bounds  the  signs  of  winter  come 
one  by  one.  Yet  by  the  house  the  hardy  Fuchsias  droop  their 
crimson  and  purple  eardrops.  Jackman's  Clematis,  not  yet  over, 
displays  its  purple  flowers  as  if  seeking  to  cast  in  the  shade  its 
sister.  Clematis  flammula,  whose  little  white  sweet-scented  flowers 
are  so  insignificant  beside  those  of  its  more  showy  companion, 
although  its  masses  of  seeds  with  their  feathery  appendages  give  it 
a  value  the  other  does  not  possess. 
A  few  Roses  there  are,  too,  on  the  wall,  and  the  Cotoneaster  has 
its  deep  green  leave*  all  relieved  by  strings  of  berries  along  the 
branches  they  cover.  Behind  one  of  the  rockeries  Veitch’s 
Virginian  Creeper  has  changed  at  the  magic  touch  of  autumn,  and 
the  curtain  of  green  which  shut  off  from  view  the  cold  grey  wall 
has  become  a  bright  chocolate.  It  is  less  bright  than  were  the 
leaves  of  the  common  Virginian  Creeper,  but,  though  not  so 
brilliant  in  hue,  has  a  charm  heightened  by  the  verdancy  of  Coton¬ 
easter  thyrnifolia,  which  has,  in  its  unwillingness  to  cover  only  its 
allotted  place  on  the  rockery,  crept  up  the  wall  by  the  side  of  its 
more  rapid  mounting  neighbour.  There  are  many  things  to  be 
seen  in  the  garden’s  surroundings  and  accessories,  though  it  is  not 
of  these  I  seek  to  tell.  Thus  must  we  leave  these  and  let  our  eyes 
glance  over  the  borders,  the  beds,  and  the  rock  garden  in  search  of 
our  favourites. 
It  is  vain  to  pretend  that  they  look  their  usual  selves.  What 
flower  can  be  exposed  to  driving  rains  for  day  after  day  and  still  be 
a*  bright?  What  lover  of  flowers  is  so  heedless  of  the  elements  that 
he  does  not  feel  that  his  inamoratas  do  not  look  their  best  ?  Yet 
lover-like  we  love  them  still  and  admire  their  charms,  though  we 
only  see  them  through  a  veil  of  tears.  These  poor  Crocuses,  alas  ! 
veil  their  charms.  Their  divinity  is  the  sun,  and  he  refuses  them 
his  countenance,  and  they  are  all  forlorn.  The  double  Meadow 
Saffrons  are  less  sensitive  and  do  their  best,  although  rather 
unsuccessfully,  to  smile  through  the  gloom.  There  are  a  few 
Iceland  Poppies,  too,  and  one  solitary  Oriental  one,  which  awaits 
a  sunny  day,  should  one  be  vouchsafed,  to  expand  its  cup  of  orange 
scarlet.  There  are  Bellflowers,  too,  still  left  or  in  bloom  for  a 
second  time,  and  the  Japan  Anemones,  white,  and  red  and  rose, 
remind  us  of  the  land  of  the  Lily  and  the  Chrysanthemum  as  we 
look  upon  their  pretty  flowers.  Then  we  have  Sweet  Peas  and 
Tropaaolums  (of  which  Mr.  Grant  Allen  told  us  something  in  an 
acceptable  artic’e).  Crown  Chrysanthemums,  Calliopsis,  and  other 
annuals,  among  which  we  must  not  forget  the  “  Mournful  Widow," 
as  Scabiosa  atro-purpurea  is  called.  Kniphofiis  still  rear  their 
flaming  torches,  although  the  light  of  the  earlier  ones  has  been 
extinguished  until  another  year. 
There  are  yet  Sunflowers  and  Coneflowers  and  Starworts, 
with  here  and  there  a  Tradescantia  or  Anthemis,  with  the  little 
Cvclamens  and  Veronicas  and  Androsaces  and  othur  representative* 
of  the  flowers  *o  cherished  in  a  garden  like  this.  There  is  no  need, 
even  in  these  dull  days,  to  long  for  the  bedding  flower#  which  will 
soon  have  to  be  safely  housed  under  shelter  when  our  plants  are 
either  at  rest  outside  or  giving  us  a  few  blooms  to  carry  us  through 
till  winter  is  gone.  But  we  must  not  wander  along  thus,  delighting 
as  we  go  in  these  side  thoughts,  but  give  a  little  time  to  a  few  plants 
which  at  the  time  occur  to  our  minds  as  needing  notice. 
The  Oxalises  or  Wood  Sorrels  are  seldom  seen  in  gardens  of 
hardy  flowers,  and  I  must  confess  to  having  paid  little  attention 
to  the  genus.  It  is  true  that  the  little  0.  curniculata  rubra  has  long 
been  not  only  an  occupant  of  my  garden,  but  has  shown  its  wonted 
desire  to  become  not  only  joint  but  sole  occupier — a  desire  which 
has  to  be  combated,  although  cot  easily  done  with  a  plant  so 
ubiquitous.  So  many  of  these  Wood  Sorrels  come  from  the  Cape 
and  South  America  that  one  is  doubtful  of  success  with  them 
north  of  the  Tweed,  and  we  are  thus  glad  to  be  able  to  say  of 
one  not  very  much  seen  that  it  is  hardy  here.  This  is  O.  lobata, 
which  I  was  tempted  to  buy  about  two  years  ago  by  a  description 
given  of  it  in  a  catalogue  and  a  statement  that  it  '•as  thought  to 
come  from  Greece,  the  latter  being,  however,  erroneous. 
Some  catalogues  require  to  be  read  with  somewhat  sceptical 
eyes,  but  in  this  case  I  have  had  no  reason  to  regret  being  induced 
to  purchase  the  plant,  although  I  have  had  to  wait  until  this 
autumn  to  reap  a  reward  of  patience  in  seeing  the  Lobed  Wood 
Sorrel  come  into  flower.  Somehow  or  other  I  had  almost  despaired 
of  ever  seeing  its  flower  here,  and  was  surprised  one  of  the  few 
dry  days  of  September  to  observe  a  bright  yellow  flower  on  one 
