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■JOURNAL  OF  HORTICULTURE  AND  COTTAGE  GARDENER.  September  12,  1901. 
Hardy  Flower  Notes. 
We  ought,  I  suppose,  to  be  sad  at  this  season,  as  we  think  of  the 
short  days  and  the  long  nights,  which  draw  fast  near,  and  the  time 
when  flowers  are  few  and  far  between.  Yet,  somehow,  there  is  no 
feeling  of  sadness  in  our  minds  as  we  look  at  our  own  and  others’ 
gardens,  for  they  are  bright  and  gay,  though  colouring  leaves  tell  the 
tale  of  autumn’s  decay  and  winter’s  approach.  There  is  a  strange 
mingling  of  desires  in  our  hearts.  We  would  fain  enjoy  to  the  full 
the  present,  but  we  have  need  to  think  of  and  prepare  for  the  next 
year,  whether  we  shall  see  it  or  no.  Tnere  must  provision  be  made 
for  that  other  year,  and  already  some  of  the  earlier-ripening  bulbs  are 
in  the  bosom  of  Mother  Earth,  drawing  from  it  that  nourishment 
which  will  make  them  blossom  and  shine  in  the  coming  time.  The 
thought  of  these  will  drive  us  from  the  sadness  almost  sure  to  come 
even  amid  the  glory  of  these  autumn  days,  when  sweet  flowers  and 
ruddy  fruit  all  appeal  to  our  minds  with  gladsome  thoughts.  These 
flowers  would  make  us  linger  among  them  as  we  write. 
The  Dahlia  lover  is  joyful  as  he  ponders  over  his  great  globed 
blooms,  or  as  he  delights  in  his  tiny  pompons,  which  are  neatness  and 
trimness  in  very  quintessence.  It  he  cares  not  for  these  formal 
flowers,  he  may  wax  enthusiastic  over  the  twisted  pointed  petals  of 
his  blooms  of  the  Cactus  type.  These  may  be  a  little  bashful,  and 
inclined  to  shrink  from  view  amid  their  green  leaves,  but  we  may  cull 
them  from  the  plants  and  arrange  them  cunningly  in  glasses,  so  as  to 
charm  us  with  their  forms  and  colours. 
The  lover  of  annual  flowers  may  delight  in  their  varied  charms  ; 
the  Marigold  man  may  grow  jubilant  over  his  Africans,  packed  closely 
with  petals,  or  his  striped  French,  with  their  blooms  of  black- brown 
and  gold.  The  specialist  in  these  and  other  flowers  will  find  ample  to 
admire  in  his  favourites,  while  we  who  care  most  for  our  hardier 
flowers  give  them  a  fraternal  greeting,  and  enjoy  our  own  plants 
which  are  left  to  us  yet.  First  to  claim  our  notice,  because  it  is 
comparatively  new,  is  Liatris  graminifolia  var.  dubia,  which  despite 
its  long  name,  suggestive  of  some  doubt  as  to  its  personality,  is 
pleasing,  as  it  shows  us  its  tall  spike  of  bright  purple  flowers  crowded 
above  the  grassy  leaves.  It  is  a  true  “  Gay  Feather,’’  whose  long 
spike  might  have  done  for  the  plume  of  some  warrior  of  the  olden 
times,  when  marks  of  distinction  were  iess  fatal  than  in  these  days  of 
ours.  This  species  is  very  beautiful,  though  where  there  are  so  many 
pretty  species  of  Liatris  one  would  not  venture  to  say  that  it  is  the 
best  of  the  lot.  A  good  grower  tells  us  that  the  Liatrises  grow  best 
in  pure  sand,  but  I  fancy  that  much  depends  upon  the  moisture 
beneatb,  and  my  own  experience  is  that  drought  for  any  length  of 
time  is  fatal  to  the  r  welfare,  and  that  in  dry  gardens  they  like  a  more 
moisture-holding  soil.  Yet  all  are  not  alike  in  their  ways  at  home, 
and  a  reference  to  Britton  and  Brown’s  “  Illustrated  Flora  of  the 
Northern  United  States  and  Canada”  will  show  that  L.  spicata  grows 
in  moist  soil,  but  that  the  others  are  to  be  found  in  dry  soils  or  on 
prairies.  By  the  way,  our  authors  already  referred  to,  call  the 
Liatrises  “  Lacinarias,”  and  give  us  quite  a  choice  of  popular  names, 
from,  Blazing  Star  and  Button  Snake- root  to  Colic  Root,  besides  Gay 
Feather  aud  Devil’s  Bit. 
It  seems  no  time  since  the  leaves  of  the  Meadow  Saffrons  or 
Colchicums  grew  brown  and  had  to  be  cleared  away,  yet  now  the 
flowers  have  begun  to  come,  and  we  shall  ere  long  have  them  here 
and  there  all  about  the  garden.  They  seem  to  appear  mysteriously, 
and  come  “popping  up  like  Mushroom s,”  as  I  was  told  the  oth  r  day. 
To-day  you  mhy  see  a  faint  point  of  white  spearing  through  the  soil  ; 
to-morrow  there  is  a  chalice  of  ruby  and  white,  which  has  appeared 
almost  in  a  night.  As  autumn  hardy  flowers  they  have  a  place  of 
their  own  no  other  plant  can  fill,  and  we  might  plant  them  m  jre 
generously  by  the  front  of  our  borders,  amid  the  grass,  or  in  the  rock 
garden,  tor  in  all  these  at  this  time  we  need  their  bright  presence  to 
give  colour  and  beauty  to  otherwise  dull  places.  Among  the  first 
here  have  been  the  pale-coloured  Bertoloni,  the  small  but  pretty 
laeium,  the  chequered  variegatum,  in  several  tints  of  lilac  or  purple ; 
the  noble  Bornmulleri,  and  the  pretty  little  Kochi.  Ere  this  can  be 
in  type  there  will  be  others  almost  galore.  These  Meadow  Saffrons 
like  a  strongish  soil,  and  give  little  trouble  after  planting.  Yet  they 
have  a  fault,  for  like  many  other  things  they  have  poisonous  as  well  as 
healing  properties.  Any  one  who  would  eat  the  corms  for  Onions 
must  surely  have  been  possessed  with  rare  fatuity,  and  the  author  of 
tue  “Flora  Historica”  tells  us  gravely  that  “no  cattle  will  touch  it,” 
and  that  “  the  very  lambs  fly  at  its  aspect,’’  yet  we  are  also  told  that 
the  French  c all  it  by  words  meaning  “  Kill  Dog”  and  “Dog’s  Death.” 
If,  however,  we  reject  the  Colchicum  for  this  failing  we  may  likewise 
cast  trom  our  gardens  many  of  our  most  prized  flowers  which  have 
similar  effects  when  misused. 
As  we  look  at  the  Montbretias  (Tritonias)  we  think  how  rapidly 
they  have  come  to  the  front,  and  how  much  our  vases  ot  cut 
flowers  (let  alone  show  stands)  have  been  indebted  to  these  flowers. 
In  studying  this  season  the  flowers  in  the  stands  of  hardy  plants 
in  shows  of  various  degrees  of  importance,  one  was  struck  with 
the  number  of  Montbretias  staged  both  for  prizes  and  in  non¬ 
competitive  exhibits.  One  might  throw  out  the  suggestion  that  it  is 
time  that  some  of  the  large  shows  offered  prizes  for  Montbretias  alone, 
even  if  they  were  debarred  from  being  shown  in  the  larger  classes  for 
herbaceous  flowers.  I  am  certain  that  there  would  be  some  effective 
and  beautiful  exhibits.  But  this  is  a  digression  from  my  original 
intention,  which  was  to  speak  of  two  of  the  newest  Montbretias 
those  named  Germania  and  America,  both  of  Pfitzer’s  raising,  and 
both  of  which  I  saw  well  shown  by  a  southern  firm  from  Colchester, 
at  Glasgow  Show.  The  first  is  the  most  distinct  advance  in  Mont¬ 
bretias  we  have  had  for  a  long  time.  The  large,  well-opened  flowers, 
of  good  colour  withal,  will  render  it  a  grand  garden  plant,  and  one 
to  be  sought  for  by  exhibitors  of  hardy  flowers.  As  for  America, 
it  has  the  failing  of  many  of  the  Montbretias  in  the  rather  hooded 
form  of  its  flowers,  which  do  not  show  themselves  so  well  as 
do  those  of  Germania.  Its  value  lies  mainly  in  the  deep  orange- 
scarlet  flower,  and  the  darker  eye  which  fills  up  so  much  of  the 
centre  of  the  bloom.  It  is,  at  least,  a  step  on  the  way  to  a  departure 
among  Montbretias  which  may  lead  us  to  something  still  better. 
There  is  a  big  future  before  the  Montbretias,  though  their  place  at 
present  is  by  no  means  obscure. 
As  we  seek  to  finish  these  notes  we  catch  sight  of  Clematises  in 
crowded  clusters  of  bloom,  or  grey  with  feathered  awns;  golden 
Sunflowers,  all  unmindful  of  the  tradition  that  they  always  turn  to 
the  sun ;  black,  brown,  or  green  coned  Rudbeckias ;  gay  golden 
Heleniums  ;  Gladioli,  surely  the  finest  of  autumn  bulbous  flowers; 
Lathyrus,  in  the  shape  of  perennial  and  annual  Peas;  gay  tubed 
Zauschneria  californica ;  blood  red  Pnygelius  capensis;  towering 
(Enothera  biennis  Lamarckiana,  shabby  by  day,  but  glorious  when 
evening  comes  ;  with  Mexican  Tigridias  in  almost  barbar.c  splendour. 
There  are  sweet  Roses  which  we  shall  hope  to  enjoy  for  some  time 
yet  ;  there  are  soft  coloured  Michaelmas  Daisies  in  plenty,  though 
their  season  is  not  yet  fully  here  ;  there  are  Japan  Anemones,* 
Neapolitan  Cyclamens — truly  a  strange,  yet  happy  medley  of 
nationalities.  There  are  hardy  Fuchsias,  so  happy  by  the  sea,  and 
great  Hydrangea  heads,  the  envy  of  inland  folks,  who  cannot  grow 
them  outdoors  at  home.  Mure  there  are  to  strive  to  make  us  agree 
with  Donne,  who  said — 
No  spring  or  summer’s  beauty  hath  such  grace 
As  I  have  seen  in  one  autumnal  face. 
With  the  recollecdou  of  the  beauties  ot  tnese  earlier  seasons  fresh  in 
our  minds  we  may  not  agree,  but  we  can  still  rejoice  in  the  benison 
given  by  autumn  to  us  all. — S.  Arnott. 
- - - - 
Gooseberries  as  Cordons, 
There  are  various  ways  of  growing  Gooseberries  —  bushes, 
standards,  espaliers,  wall-trained  trees,  &c. — but  there  is  none  by 
which  finer  specimen  fruit  is  secured  than  by  the  single  cordon 
system.  By  this  method  the  tree  consists  simply  of  one  stem,  with 
fruit  spurs  all  the  way  along  it.  A  display  of  cordon  Gooseberry  trees 
in  pots  at  the  Royal  Horticultural  Society’s  Show  at  the  Westminster 
Drill  Hall  last  July  was  a  revelation  to  many  of  those  who  visited 
it,  though  the  cordons  were  so  short,  and  the  leaves,  owing  to  the 
recent  putting  of  the  trees  into  pots,  so  flagging,  that,  notwithstanding 
the  fineness  of  the  fruit  upon  the  trees,  many  thought  it  was  a 
fantastic  method  of  growing  Gooseberries,  and  not  of  much  practical 
value.  But  that  wa3  a  mistake,  as  Gooseberry  cordons  can  be  grown 
6  or  8  feet  long,  and  the  whole  length  covered  with  fruit,  and  it  is 
doubtful  if  there  is  any  kind  of  fruit-growing  by  which  so  much 
fruit  can  be  obtained  from  a  given  space,  taking  one  year  with 
another,  unless  it  be  by  cordon  trees  of  some  other  fruit. 
To  show  the  truth  of  this  statement,  let  us  suppose  an  acre 
of  ground  planted  with  cordon  Gooseberries,  a  foot  apart  in  the  rows, 
the  latter  4  feet  apart.  This  would  give  10,890  trees,  and  if  a  pint  of 
green  fruit  and  a  quart  of  ripe  fruit  was  picked  off  each  tree — a  very 
moderate  estimate — ana  this  fruit  was  sold,  both  green  and  ripe, 
to  average  two  pence  a  quart,  the  produce  would  realise  £135,  and  this 
might  be  reckoned  upon  not  one  year  in  two  or  three,  but  at  least 
three  out  of  four,  and  a  very  fair  crop  the  fourth  year.  The  cordons, 
when  bought,  are  usually  from  1  to  2  feet  long.  They  can  bs 
trained  either  in  an  upright  position  or  at  an  angle,  the  latter  preferably, 
as  a  greater  length  of  cordon  can  be  grown  with  the  same  height  of 
support  by  bending  them  down  as  they  lengthen.  If  they  are  to  ba 
grow  1  obliquely  they  should  be  planted  slanting  a  little  in  the  desired 
direction,  and  then  fixed  at  an  angle  of  60°,  which  can  be  reduced  to 
[-»  Have  you,  Mr.  Arnott,  ever  seen  a  bed  of  the  white  J apanese  Anemone 
above  a  ground  covering  of  blue  Violas .’  The  effect  is  splendid.] 
