448 
JOURNAL  OF  HORTICULTURE  AND  COTTAGE  GARDENER  November  ii,  1897. 
We  dig  out  a  trench  3  feet  from  the  tree  stem  and  2  feet  in 
depth,  but  few  roots  are  seen.  The  forks  are  next  han^iled  to  break 
down  the  wall  of  soil  in  front,  so  as  to  get  nearer  the  tree  stem,  and 
soon  we  come  upon  long  straggling  roots  with  little  fibre.  These 
are  carefully  pegged  back  if  thin  enough  for  the  purpose;  the  stronger 
ones  we  work  round,  picking  out  the  soil  with  the  forks.  This  goes 
on  for  a  time,  till  a  good  trench  surrounds  the  tree,  and  the  ball 
stands  in  “splendid  isolation.”  Next  we  meet  with  very  strong  roots, 
going  down  straight  into  the  subsoil.  These  are  severed  with  the 
spade  or  mattock,  at  a  point  where  they  penetrate  the  subsoil.  As  the 
stem  of  the  tree  is  neared  fibrous  roots  become  more  plentiful,  and  it  is 
apparent  that  our  hitherto  radical  plan  of  action  may  be  altered.  The 
ball  of  earth  now  extends  for  15  inches  round  the  tree  stem;  the 
surface  of  this  is  removed  till  a  mass  of  roots  is  found,  and  then 
we  are  ready  for  filling  in  the  trench. 
The  soil  is  rather  heavy,  so  we  obtain  a  few  broken  bricks  or  tiles, 
shovel  more  soil  from  the  bottom  of  the  trench,  and  ram  the  bricks 
firmly  into  the  bottom  of  it.  “Ah!”  says  my  friend,  “  they  won’t 
get  through  that  easily.”  A  layer  of  leaves  are  next  placed  over  the 
bricks,  the  ends  of  the  roots  cut  with  a  sharp  knife  (making  an  upward 
cut),  and  a  few  inches  of  good  soil  placed  upon  the  leaves  and  trodden 
firmly.  We  find  a  little  fibrous  loam  handy,  so  a  layer  of  this  is  next 
added,  and  some  of  the  roots  spread  upon  it,  taking  care  to  notch  several 
of  the  stronger  ones.  More  soil  is  added,  the  fresh  loam  being  placed 
around  the  roots,  and  the  old  employed  to  fill  the  interstices.  Thus 
the  work  goes  on,  layer  after  layer,  the  roots  in  each  case  being  spread 
out  to  their  fullest  extent,  brought  up  nearer  to  the  surface,  and 
covered  with  soil  pressed  moderately  firm. 
When  completed  the  soil  formed  a  mound  a  few  inches  above  the 
surroundin'^  ground  line,  and  was  left  rough  on  the  surface.  I  hinted 
to  my  friend  that  he  might  leave  it  in  that  state,  to  become 
sweetened  and  aerated  till  sharp  frosts  threatened,  then  a  few  inches  of 
half-decayed  manure  placed  over  the  soil  would  give  the  roots  near 
the  surface  the  protection  needed. 
My  object  in  penning  the  above  notes  was  that,  as  I  thought 
perhaps  there  might  be  some  other  fruit  trees  in  various  parts  of  the 
country  which  were  not  satisfactory,  the  Editor  of  “our  Journal ’’ 
might  think  the  notes  w'orth  printing.  My  old  master  used  to  pin 
his  faith  on  practising  that  kind  of  work  upon  strong  growing  iruit 
tiees,  aird  I  think  he  knew  what  ho  was  about,  at  least  I  am  sure  he 
did  when  I  remember  the  fine  crops  he  grew.  Another  old  plan,  he 
used  to  be  very  particular  about  doing  was  to  unnail  the  Peach  shoots 
as  soon  as  the  leaves  had  fallen,  and  let  them  hang  away^  from  the 
wall,  the  main  branches  being  secured  here  and  there.  “  A  capital 
plan  is  this,  my  lad,”  he  used  to  say,  “  for  it  helps  to  ripen  the  yoin.g 
shoots  all  round,  keeps  the  buds  back  so  that  they  do  not  burst  into 
flower  very  early  in  the  spring,  and  therefore  they  escape  to  a  great 
extent  injury  by  frost.”  Before  the  shoots  were  unnailed,  if  any  trees 
had  grown  too  strongly,  a  trench  was  taken  out  around  it,  and  from 
1  to  3  feet  from  the  stem  (according  to  the  size  of  the  tree),  the  points 
were  cut  with  a  sharp  knife,  and  the  soil  replaced  and  pressed  dowm 
firmly.  In  fact  we  were  always  pulling  the  roots  ot  fruit  trees  about 
in  the  autumn. 
Sometimes  we  went  into  the  orchard  or  fruit  plantation,  and  set  to 
work  in  earnest  there.  If  we  came  across  a  tree  that  looked  stunted, 
though  not  particularly  old — one  that  looked  starved — a  trench 
was  soon  taken  out  round  it ;  sometimes  this  was  5  or  6  feet  away 
from  the  trunk,  and  more  than  2  feet  in  depth.  Some  good  manure 
was  then  placed  in  the  bottom,  a  layer  of  soil  added,  then  another 
layer  of  manure,  and  so  on,  till  the  hole  w^as  filled  in.  Any  soil  left  was 
scattered  about  in  all  directions,  and  a  coating  of  real  good  manure 
spread  upon  the  ground  as  far  as  the  branches  extended.  The  weakest 
of  the^  trees  were  treated  in  this  way,  and  many  others  received  heavy 
waterings  with  liquid  manure,  for  we  had  several  cesspools  which 
required  emptying  about  that  time.  The  liquid  in  them  was  strong 
too,  so  strong  that  we  seldom  ventured  to  apply  it  at  full  strength, 
but  generally  diluted  it  with  an  equal  part  of  water. 
I  remember  once  after  watering  some  Ribston  Pippin  Apple 
trees  in  the  way  above  described  they  bore  some  grand  fruits  the 
following  season.  A  dish  of  these  easily  won  first  prize  in  the  class  for 
dessert  Apples  at  our  local  sho\v  (which  was  famed  for  its  Apples). 
Some  of  the  old  gardeners  said  our  “Ribstons”  w^ere  so  good  that 
they  ought  to  have  been  sent  to  one  of  the  “  big  London  shows ;  ” 
we  might  even  have  got  a  medal  for  them.  My  old  master  was  one 
of  the  ancient  school  (in  some  things),  for  he  used  to  take  such  pride 
in  his  wall  trees ;  he  would  have  the  young  branches  start  from  just 
the  right  point;  it  was  useless  to  suggest  how  quickly  we  might 
cover  the  space  by  bringing  a  shoot  “a  little  way  round”  to  fill  up  a 
blank ;  the  look  he  gave  the  one  wdio  made  the  suggestion  usually 
prevented  him  from  taking  a  similar  course  the  second  time.  “  No ;  I 
must  have  a  shoot  just  there,  and  you  must  keep  cutting  the  leaders 
back  till  the  required  shoot  comes.”  These  were  not  exactly  the  words 
the  master  used,  but  they  show  what  he  meant — he  had  the  gift  and 
language,  and  put  the  matter  quite  lorcibly. 
Old  unfruitful  wall  trees  were  not  tolerated  long  in  that  garden. 
When  they  ceased  to  be  fruitful,  up  they  came  without  much  mercy 
being  shown  them,  and  some  of  the  very  best  new  varieties  speedily 
took  their  place.  When  this  sort  of  thing  did  happen  there  were  no 
half  measures  about  the  work.  Holes  5  feet  in  diameter  were  taken 
out,  they  were  generally  made  3  feet  in  depth,  and  then  given  6  inches 
of  drainage  in  the  shape  of  rubble  and  broken  bricks  ;  after  these 
bricks  were  covered  with  old  turf,  some  of  the  old  soil  w’as  placed 
over  it,  and  then  the  young  trees  were  planted  entirely  in  good  turfy 
loam.  It  was  something  like  loam,  too,  that  we  used  to  get  there ;  so 
full  of  fibre,  and  quite  a  good  “holding”  soil.  I  remember  many 
things  that  my  old  master  used  to  believe  in ;  he  held  strong, 
opinions  about  pruning;  but  I  must  stop  now. — Working  Gardener. 
THE  LANGUAGE  OF  PLANTS  AND  FLOWERS. 
I  TRUST  no  reader  will  imagine,  after  reading  the  above  heading, 
that  I  am  going  to  indulge  in  a  series  of  poetic  quotations  from 
some  popular  “  Language  of  Flowers.”  Those  dainty  little  collections 
of  poems  and  sentimental  phrases  suit  well  the  taste  of  many  in 
the  “  gushing  days  of  early  youth,”  but  as  the  years  roll  on  we  all, 
I  think,  take  a  more  practical  view  of  life,  and  thus  become  interested 
more  particularly  in  things  which  lead  to  progress,  and  increase  our 
knowledge  of  the  wonders  of  the  universe. 
It  is,  therefore,  my  intention  to  endeavour  to  show  what  practical 
lessons  we  can  learn  from  the  appearance  of  plants  and  flowers  under 
vai'ious  circumstances,  for  observant  cultivators  have  long  ago  dis¬ 
covered  that  their  appearance  at  various  times  and  under  differing 
conditions  show  plainly  what  is,  or  has  been,  amiss  with  them.  Let 
us  just  take  a  case  which  is  apparent  to  all,  and  then  pass  on-to  deal 
with  others  which  require  the  exercise  of  close  observation  to  detect. 
If  on  a  hot  summer’s  day  we  find  the  leaves  of  a  plant  drooping — 
or,  as  we  terra  it,  flagging — while  the  soil  is  dry,  such  a  plant  is 
asking  in  unmistakeable  language  for  water;  the  constant  stream  of 
liquid  passing  through  its  cells  has  been  reduced  to  its  lowest  possible 
ebb,  its  motive  force  has  gone  for  the  time,  and  unless  attention  is 
quickly  given  the  energies  of  that  plant  are  permanently  enfeebled. 
Those  who  by  experience  and  observation  have  learned  to  read  the 
language  of  plants,  even  as  they  learn  to  read  a  book,  know  these 
things  at  a  glance,  and  act  quickly  wdien  mistakes  are  discovered. 
Again,  there  are  times  when  the  leaves  of  plants  droop  while  the 
soil  in  which  they  are  growing  is  quite  wet,  yet  here  the  leaves 
present  to  a  close  observer  quite  a  different  appearance  from  those 
which  droop  through  dryness  of  the  soil.  The  too  wet  soil  causes 
many  of  the  white  tender  root  points  to  decay,  and  thus  lessen  the 
supply  of  food,  or  manure  water  applied  in  too  strong  a  form  will  have 
the  same  effect.  There  is  yet  another  instance  of  leaf  drooping 
which  differs  from  either  of  the  above,  and  which  may  be  more  quickly 
set  right.  It  is  that  of  a  plant  under  glass  flagging  during 
bright  sunshine,  w^hen  the  roots  are  perfectly  healthy  and  in  the 
right  condition  in  regard  to  moisture.  This  usually  takes  place  after 
dull  periods,  or  when  the  sun  bursts  out  with  stronger  force  than 
usual,  and  shows  that  evaporation  from  the  leaves  is  taking  place 
more  rapidly  than  the  roots  can  supply  the  needed  moisture.  Shade 
the  leaves,  and  thus  lessen  evaporation,  and  they  quickly  resume 
their  natural  appearance.  To  the  observant  gardener  they  said  quite 
plainly — in  their  language — “  Give  us  shade.” 
