October  22.  189*. 
JOURNAL  OF  HORTICULTURE  AND  COTTAGE  GARDENER, 
405 
Tomatoes  having  to  be  given  up  ten  years  ago  ?  He  told  us  first  of  all 
— like  a  text  book — that  whole  field  crops  had  been  cured  of  eelworm  by 
simple  dressings  of  chemical  manures.  It  seems  now  that  he  knows 
where  whole  field  crops  have  been  destroyed,  but  although  asked  several 
times  to  say  where  the  whole  field  crops  are  that  were  cured  he  is  still 
silent. 
I  have  got  something  for  Mr.  Abbey  at  last.  On  pulling  up  some 
old  Tomato  plants  on  Saturday  I  found  several  showing  the  well-known 
symptoms  of  an  eelworm  attack — i.e,,  the  nodules  on  the  roots.  On 
examining  some  roots  under  the  microscope  I  found  the  gourd-shaped 
females,  eggs,  and  young  eelworm  (larval  stage).  So  that  Mr.  Abbey 
may  “  prove  all  things  ”  I  am  sending  the  roots  of  a  plant  to  the  Editor. 
But  I  want  to  call  Mr.  Abbey’s  attention  to  the  following  fact  : — 
My  houses,  planted  with  Tomatoes,  cover  1100  yards.  During  the 
•growing  season  I  have  applied  to  this  1100  yards  the  following  chemical 
manures — 2  cwt.  of  kainit,  2  cwt.  of  nitrate  of  soda,  half  cwt.  of 
nitrate  of  potash,  and  2^  cwt.  of  mineral  superphosphate — 7  cwt. 
of  chemical  manure  to  less  than  a  quarter  of  an  acre  of  ground,  and  yet 
here  is  the  eelworm — and  sleepy  disease — living  and  thriving  through  it 
All.  I  am  thus  able  to  prove  that  kainit  and  nitrate  of  soda  are  not 
such  wonderful  remedies  after  all. 
Mr.  Abbey  finishes  his  article  by  the  following  remark  : — “  There  is 
not  any  of  that  practical  knowledge  and  experience  that  can  profit  your 
readers  or  G.  Abbey.”  1  never  expected  to  be  able  -to  communicate  any¬ 
thing  to  profit  Mr.  Abbey,  but  he  might  let  the  readers  speak  for 
themselves.  I  have  read,  re-read,  and  read  again  all  Mr.  Ahhey’s  com¬ 
munications  to  the  Journal  of  Horticulture  on  eelworm,  and  in  no  single 
instance  can  1  find  that  he  has  had  any  practical  experience  with  this 
pest,  except  it  be  in  solutions  in  jars,  under  the  microscope,  or  knowing 
where  Tomato  and  Cucumher  growing  had  to  be  given  up  because  of 
eelworm  attack  ;  and  if  the  silence  of  your  readers  may  be  taken  for 
anything,  even  this  has  not  been  of  any  practical  use  to  them  any  more 
-than  to — W.  D. 
“  CHILL  ”  OCTOBER. 
There  are  signs  of  decay  around  us,  but  decay  in  that  stage  where  it 
is  only  beauty.  Is  it  because  life’s  day  is  drawing  to  a  close  that  we 
better  appreciate  the  end  of  the  year  rather  than  the  beginning — com¬ 
pleted  toil  7  We  know  the  worst  and  the  best,  and  we  have  taught 
ourselves  resignation.  Rest  is  so  sweet  when  hardly  earned,  and  the 
falling  leaves  and  hollow  winds  are  calling  to  us  pilgrims  that  the  end 
•of  the  long  weary  journey  is  near. 
How  often  we  find  such  dignity  of  repose  in  the  aged  ;  they  are  so 
mear  the  shelter  of  the  harbour  that  the  rough  winds  are  only  an  echo, 
not  a  reality.  We  are  so  green  and  so  fresh  here  in  this  northern 
■  county.  No  frosts  to  check  vegetation,  and  the  rains,  trying  as  they 
have  been  to  the  farmer,  have  only  beautified  the  autumn  gardens. 
•  Just  one  Beech  tree,  and  it  is  always  a  week  in  advance  of  its  fellows, 
is  putting  on  a  livery  of  gold  and  brown,  and  the  E  Im  at  the  end  of  the 
rgarden  has  one  fading  branch.  The  Sycamore  leaves  are  mysteriously 
stained  with  rich  blotches,  and  the  Pear  trees  take  a  purple  bronze  tint. 
There  is  a  warmth  about  the  garden  flowers  not  known  earlier  in  the 
■season,  and  the  fugitive  Tea  Boses  are  recalling  the  brilliant  days  of 
■July. 
Nature  has  spread  her  table  with  her  most  tempting  stores — enough 
•for  man  and  beast — and  the  churchyard  path  is  strewn  with  the  waxen 
•berries  of  the  Yew.  What  a  charm  the  Chestnuts  have  for  the  children, 
who  make  of  them  long  brown  chaplets,  and  of  the  acorn  and  cup  fairy 
tea  sets  !  Others  have  remarked  on  the  wealth  of  hip  and  haw  and  the 
clusters  of  jet  black  Privet  berries.  The  branches  fairly  weigh  down 
with  them,  and  they  are  as  beautiful  a  feast  for  the  eye  as  was  the  milk 
white  blossom  of  early  summer.  The  work  outside  seems  endless,  all 
compressed  into  so  short  a  time,  as  King  Frost  may  be  here  at  any 
moment,  like  a  veritable  thief  in  the  night,  stealing  our  best  and  rarest. 
The  golden  “  mums  ”  are  safely  housed  ;  space,  all  too  scanty,  made  the 
most  of  ;  superfluous  shelves  removed,  plants  falling  short  of  the  highest 
perfection  discarded,  heating  apparatus  tested,  and  a  final  coat  of  paint 
to  make  all  snug  and  waterproof. 
Afield  there  is  the  sweet  scent  of  freshly  turned  soil,  ploughed  and 
rolled  for  the  reception  of  the  golden  grain.  Again  a  happy  band  of 
busy  children,  whose  quick  eyes  and  nimble  fingers  transfer  the  homely 
Potato,  just  torn  from  its  bed  by  the  rotatory  fork,  to  the  baskets,  which 
are  quickly  emptied  into  the  cart  travelling  slowly  up  and  down  the 
field.  This  Potato  gathering  finds  the  children  in  winter  boots,  and 
thus  enables  the  parents  to  have  a  little  surplus  on  the  family  budget. 
Out  on  the  stubbles  on  the  sunny  side  of  the  hedge  the  lordly 
pheasant  feeds  and  warms  himself,  still  secure,  as  no  shot  is  directed  at 
him  till  the  frosts  have  lowered  the  proud  heads  of  the  bracken.  The 
brambles  are  gone,  and  the  Elderberries  ripe  so  early  this  year,  are  con¬ 
verted  by  the  careful  housewife  into  syrup  and  wine.  It  may  be  a 
bucolic  taste,  but  the  smell  of  the  Turnip  field  is  so  fresh  and  clean,  and 
promises  such  ample  food.  The  trimmed  fences,  the  cleared  fields,  the 
full  stackyards  all  combine  to  make  such  a  beautiful  picture  of  English 
rural  life.  A  picture  that  we  wish  our  friends,  the  dwellers  in  the 
crowded  town,  could  gaze  upon.  With  heart  and  voice  they  would  with 
us  praise  the  great  Father,  who,  in  His  mercy,  satisfies  not  only  the 
temporal  wants  of  His  creatures,  but  gives  them  such  store  of  bright 
days  whose  memory  serves  to  relieve  the  long  gloom  of  winter. — The 
-Miss  ITS. 
THE  YOUNG  GARDENERS’  DOMAIN. 
Excessive  Pleasure  Hunting. 
I  WRITE  at  this  time  to  thank  you  for  the  corner  of  your  valuable 
paper  to  be  allotted  to  us  juniors  of  the  craft.  Although  we  cannot 
expect  all  at  once  to  develop  into  great  literary  men,  yet  it  is  a  pleasure 
to  have  our  opinions  put  to  the  test  in  public,  though  as  yet  we  may 
not  have  the  privilege  of  putting  them  into  nractice. 
For  the  last  few  weeks  we  have  been  specially  favoured  by  splendid 
articles  all  to  ourselves,  though  many  of  our  seniors  may  have  enjoyed 
them  as  much  as  I  have  done,  on  “  Memories  and  Morals  of  Bothydom.” 
The  “  Old  Boy  ”  has  really  given  us  something  splendid.  What  a 
pleasure  it  will  be  if  we  can  only  lay  bis  advices  to  heart  and  act  up  to 
them,  but  how  often  is  the  opportunity  lost  by  many  of  us.  In  a  great 
many  cases  the  privilege  of  bothy  life  is  abused.  Many  young  men  find 
it  very  irksome  to  scay  in  the  bothy  in  the  evening  ;  they  must  have 
some  freedom  and  some  pleasure  in  life.  It  is  excessive  pleasure  hunt¬ 
ing  that  ruins  the  man.  Such  men,  when  they  do  stay  in  for  an  evening, 
can  seldom  settle  at  anything,  and  eventually  land  in  bed.  where,  at 
least,  they  do  not  disturb  their  fellows  who  may  be  of  a  more  studious 
turn  of  mind. 
The  long  winter  evenings  are  again  approaching,  when  some  little 
may  be  done  by  way  of  storing  our  minds  for  our  future.  I  do  not 
mean  to  say  that  there  should  be  no  release  from  study,  but  certainly 
the  man  who  knows  the  most,  and  knows  how  to  put  it  into  practice, 
is  the  better  man.  Not  a  day  passes  without  something  of  interest 
taking  place  ;  this,  I  think,  should  always  be  taken  note  of.  By  com¬ 
mitting  a  thing  to  paper  is  a  great  help  to  the  memory  with  many 
people.  We  have  many  opportunities  now  that  “An  Old  Boy”  had  not 
in  his  younger  days.  Let  us,  therefore,  take  advantage  of  them .  Thank¬ 
ing  yon,  sir,  and  the  old  mentor  for  the  treats  we  have  had  and  are  to 
have,  I  wish  to  subscribe  myself — S.,  JUN. 
L“  S.,  junior,”  had  better  write  again.  His  notes  and  methods  might 
be  suggestive  and  helpful  to  others.] 
To  Appre.ntices. 
It  is  only  at  times  my  mind  stirs  itself  enthusiastically  enough  to 
emerge  from  hidden  thought  into  forceful  display  ;  and  what  has  wrought 
my  imagination  now  7  ’Tis  that  grand  old  man’s  letter  in  the  issue  for 
September  24th,  “  An  Old  Provincial.”  But  my  chances  of  publication 
will  grow  lesss  if  I  do  not  introduce  concision  and  pointedness  to  my 
feelings.  Now  to  the  theme,  fellow  workers. 
My  father  was  a  gardener,  thus  leading  and  training  from  earliest 
years  my  taste  and  inclination  for  horticulture.  When  boyhood,  with 
the  attendant  exuberance  of  spirit  for  romping  gaiety,  gave  me  freedom 
of  action  in  sports  and  hobbies,  I  involuntarily  became  a  passionate 
gardener.  While  my  brothers  played  I  wandered  to  the  fields  and  sought 
the  wee  gems  of  Nature,  conveying  and  huddling  them  into  my 
“  corner,”  like  herrings  in  a  barrel.  That  plot,  6  feet  square,  contained 
nearly  as  much  as  might  decently  have  filled  a  border  20  feet  long  and 
8  broad.  Ah  !  happy  days  of  innocent  pleasure. 
I  am  now  fiuishing  my  apprenticeship  (November)  in  the  profession, 
and  all  the  love  that  I  can  bestow  rests  in  the  work,  but  it  was  not 
always  so.  For  fully  fifteen  months  I  moodily  sought  after  change.  I 
was  first  lured  to  thoughts  of  the  ministry  through  the  agency  of  an 
eloquent  young  preacher.  He  had  entered  bis  theological  career  rather 
late  and  yet  rose  speedily.  His  manner  and  eloquence  mastered  me, 
and  for  some  time  the  plans,  the  thoughts,  the  studies,  the  dreams.  Did 
not  the  civil  service  appointments  offer  peculiar  advantages  7  Again  a 
•pell  at  this.  Lastly,  journalism.  I  attended  evening  classes,  mastered 
shorthand,  and  obtain^  certificates  for  it  and  French.  Arithmetic  and 
literature,  with  writing  practice,  occupied,  but  not  wasted  much  time, 
as  I  obtained  a  book,  two  certificates,  and  valuable  essay  prizes  all  in 
a  run. 
Well,  my  fellow  workers,  you  see  how  things  drifted  with  me  ;  aye, 
and  might  I  not  have  floated  onward  in  the  restless  stream  but  for  my 
mother  7  She.  dear  woman,  has  her  whole  soul  in  gardening  affairs. 
Her  serious  talk  and  reason  affected  me.  I  there  and  then  determined 
to  chain  myself,  and  apply  my  energies  to  “  the  grandest  profession  in 
the  world.”  Since  then  I  have  felt  much  peace  of  mind.  Every  task 
set  is  a  new  recreation. 
I  must  really  be  a  gardener  after  all. 
But  see  the  transgression  on  space — the  promptings  of  my  first 
thoughts — to  thank  the  kind  old  scribe.  This  sketch  may  also— ’tis 
meant  so— be  the  means  of  coaching  any  of  those  who  seem  faint  and 
despondent.  If  you  have  any  love  for  the  work,  you  will  know  it. 
Then  perseverance,  patience,  and  practice  will  thrust  aside  all  obstacles. 
Please,  Mr.  Editor,  excuse  the  dilatory  tenderance  of  my  thanks  to 
“A.  0.  P.,”  through  your  paper.  Unfortunately  so  much  other  matter 
pressed  upon  me,  that  only  now  did  I  search  out  the  Journal  from  the 
cupboard.  Joys  abundant — a  page  for  young  gardeners.  Grand  I  I 
will  watch  for  something  from  my  fellow  apprentices,  and  probably  if 
permitted  they  may  receive  something  from — A  Young  SCOT. 
[Let  us  hope  so.  Permission  is  readily  granted.] 
TRADE  CATALOGUES  RECEIVED. 
W.  Clibran  &  Sons,  Altrincham. — Tree^  and  Shrubs. 
G.  Cooling  &  Sons.  Bath. — Roses. 
P.  J.  Looymans&  Zonen,  Oudenbosch,  Holland. — Tree  and  Plant  List. 
T.  Rivers  &  Son,  Sawbridgeworth. — Fruit  Trees  and  Boses, 
