30 
JOURNAL  OF  HORTICULTURE  AND  COTTAGE  GARDENER. 
July  10,  1902. 
Perhaps  a  birdseye  view  of  this  garden  from  a  balloon  would 
not  be  prepossessing,  as  it  would  look  too  much  of  a  maze  of  beds 
and  intersecting  paths;  but,  as  I  have  said  before,  our  friend 
is  a  florist,  and  has  laid  out  his  garden  to  meet  his  requirements. 
The  little  Rose  garden  is  a  tiny  place,  but  it  stamps  the  owner 
of  it  as  a  rosarian.  You  enter  it  through  a  rustic  arch,  over 
which  a  Crimson  Rambler  climbs,  and  in  June  time  it  is  a  charm¬ 
ing  spot.  The  little  beds,  intersected  by  strips  of  turf,  are  cut 
in  shapes  to  economise  space,  and  in  front  of  every  plant  dangles 
its  zinc  label,  showing  the  name.  This  labelling  of  everything 
must  be  either  done  for  the  sake  of  order,  or  else  for  the  benefit 
of  visitors,  for  our  friend  never  looks  at  one.  There  is  no  need 
for  this,  as  he  knows  the  flowers  too  well,  and  speaks  of  the 
beauty  and  habits  of  each  one  in  a  personal  sense  as  though  he 
were  discussing  an  old  friend. 
“  There  is  always  a  charm  about  a  good  Rose,”  lie  remarks, 
“  wherever  it  is  grown ;  but  I  was  never  so  happy  as  when  I  got 
a  fine  flower  from  a  shy  variety  in  my  garden  near  town,  because 
then  I  felt  that  I  had  really  achieved  something.  Here  they 
grow  themselves.”  There  is  a  good  deal  of  the  Mark  Tapley 
temperament  about  a  florist  in  the  satisfaction  he  feels  when  he 
accomplishes  something  under  difficulties,  and  our  friend  displays 
it  in  his  remark  about  the  Roses.  He  has  no  special  sections,  for 
he  loves  them  all.  The  H.P.’s  have  their  own  place,  likewise 
the  Teas.  The  climbers  revel  on  the  garden  wall,  William  Allan 
Richardson  rambles  over  the  verandah,  Marechal  Niel  grows  in 
the  conservatory  because  its  constitution  is  rather  tender,  and 
recently  a  rough  corner  was  cleared  for  the  latest  addition  in  the 
shape  of  a  collection  of  Penzance  Briars. 
But  I  must  dwell  no  longer  on  the  Roses,  for  there  is  a  bed 
close  by  that  merits  some  attention.  Here  the  Carnations  grow, 
and  these  flowers  are  amongst  our  friend’s  many  loves.  The 
collection  is  small,  but  it  is  up  to  date,  and  there  is  nothing  slip¬ 
shod  about  the  cultivation.  Glance  at  the  labels,  and  you  will 
•see  names  of  varieties  that  have  been  awarded  honours,  but  our 
friend  is  not  altogether  satisfied  with  some  of  the  modern 
introductions. 
“Very  beautiful,”  he  says;  “colour  and  form  perfect,  but 
very  little  scent,  and  a  Carnation  without  it  is  wanting  in  its 
greatest  charm.”  I  quite  agree  with  him.  Layering  season  is 
a  busy  time  in  the  garden  of  many  loves,  for  the  plants  are 
mostly  propagated  in  this  way,  wintered  in  pots  in  frames,  and 
planted  out  the  following  spring  for  blooming. 
“Like. the  rest  of  them,”  remarks  our  friend,  “I  have  got  a 
touch  of  the  Sweet  Pea  craze,  and  until  I  grew  them  I  had  no 
idea  how  interesting  they  were.”  Then,  if  the  season  happens  to 
be  summer,  he  leads  the  way  to  the  quarter  where  his  latest 
favourites  grow.  Two  or  three  dozen  of  the  cream  of  the  many 
varieties,  each  in  its  own  little  clump,  and  grown  in  this  way 
because,  as  our  friend  says,  he  has  not  room  for  a  great  many 
of  one  sort.  There  is  something  of  a  mixture  here,  too,  for 
between  the  clumps  of  Sweet  Peas  the  Cactus  Dahlias  grow,  and 
these  have  their  own  accorded  place  in  the  garden  of  many  loves. 
Its  owner  frankly  admits  that  he  was  no  Dahlia  man  in  the  palmy 
days  of  the  old  show  varieties,  but  when  the  beautiful  Cactus 
section  appeared  he  fell  an  easy  pre^  and  year  after  year,  as 
the  new  forms  have  been  introduced,  his  collection  has  increased. 
He  loves  them,  he  says,  because  they  are  amongst  the  last  of 
the  outdoor  flowers,  and  bloom  on  till  frost  puts  the  veto  on 
garden  products. 
Of  cowse,  there  is  an  herbaceous  border,  because  our  friend 
has  a  warm  corner  in  his  affections  for  hardy  plants.  It  runs 
right  through  the  garden,  on  either  side  of  the  centre  path,  and 
the  great  mystery  is  how  he  has  managed  to  get  so  many  plants 
in  it.  There  is  the  same  love  for  order,  too,  for  you  see  no 
vigorous  plant  smothering  its  weaker  neighbour.  The  neat  labels 
give  you  the  names  (our  friend  knows  them),  and  from  year’s 
end  to  year’s  end,  with  very  few  breaks,  there  is  always  some¬ 
thing  in  flower.  In  a  partially  shaded  corner  at  the  end  of  the 
herbaceous  border,  a  quantity  of  rough  stones  and  boulders  have 
been  piled  together,  not-  with  the  idea  of  forming  an  artistic 
rockery,  but  to  provide  a  habitat  for  the  interesting  little  Alpines 
that  ramble  over  the  stones  or  nestle  in  the  crevices. 
“  I  like  these  little  plants,”  says  our  friend,  “  because  they 
won’t  be  cultivated  and  improved  upon.  Give  them  what  they 
ask  for,  and  they  will  grow  without  any  shifting  and  changing ; 
but  you  must  not  try  to  make  them  do  just  what-  you  want. 
They  are  not  made  that  way.”  Follow  the  rockery  to  its  termina¬ 
tion.  It  ends  in  a  low  part  of  the  garden,  where  a  stream  of 
water  trickles  through  a  hole  in  the  wall.  I  think  our  friend 
is  responsible  for  it  coming  this  way,  and  the  damning  up  of 
the  water  to  form  a  little  pool  was  done  with  a  purpose.  A 
few  Water  Lilies  grace  the  surface,  bog  plants  grow  round  the 
sides,  and  this  little  attempt  at  an  aquatic  garden  must  obviously 
be  counted  amongst  the  loves. 
Our  friend  says  he  has  never  attempted  much  glass  house 
gardening,  except  in  the  conservatory,  which  is  a  builder’s  legacy, 
and  the  frames  he  needs  for  propagation.  The  reason  he  gives 
is  because  he  lias  too  many  loves  outdoors  to  entertain  any 
more.  I  asked  him  once  if  giant  Clirysanthemum  blooms  did 
not  attract  him,  but  he  answered  in  the  negative,  though  he 
grows  a  few  bush  plants  for  the  conservatory. 
I  have  not  enumerated  all  our  friend’s  loves,  but  I  can  only 
mention  one  other — his  books.  He  boasts  that  he  is  a  book- 
learned  gardener,  and  from  his  library  he  has  obtained  many  of 
the  methods  that  he  puts  into  practice.  WThen  flowers  are  over 
his  book  love  remains,  to  provide  him  with  company  and  amuse¬ 
ment  on  dull  winter  days.  The  volumes  are  mostly  about  flowers 
and  gardens,  and  our  friend  has  as  much  regard  for  the  ancient 
authors  as  the  modern  ones,  while  his  respect  for  the  old  florists 
is  unbounded. 
There  you  have  my  type  of  both  gardener  and  garden.  Neither 
of  them  are  what  you  would  call  common,  for  few  men  possess 
the  capacity  for  sharing  their  affections  amongst  so  many 
favourites  without  one  or  more  getting  the  preference.  One-love 
gardeners  are  common  enough,  and  horticulture  has  every  reason 
to  be  proud  of  them  ;  but  I  question  if  anyone  could  extract  more 
real  pleasure  out  of  the  craft  than  the  owner  of  the  garden  of 
many  loves.- — A  British  Rustic. 
Edinburgh  Notes. 
Until  now,  the  beginning  of  July,  the  effect  of  the 
continued  coldness  of  the  weather  has  been  the  absorbing 
topic  of  the  horticulturist.  Since  the  beginning  of  June 
wTe  have  scarcely  experienced  two  consecutive  days  of  summer 
iveather,  and  from  lack  of  sunshine,  and  cold  east  winds, 
less  hardy  vegetation  has  had  a  trying  time  of  it.  Many  of  the 
ornamental  foliaged  trees  and  shrubs  have  had  their  leaves  so 
blasted  and  tom  as  to  be  quite  out  of  character. 
Early  planted  out  bedding  stuff,  and  more  especially  those 
which  had  not  been  thoroughly  hardened  off  before  setting  out.  has 
suffered  considerably,  and  unless  congenial  weather  ensues,  will 
be  long  before  it  produces  the  desired  effect. 
The  fruit  crop  has  also  been  damaged,  and  is  several  weeks 
late. 
Apples,  Pears,  and  Plums  which  blossomed  profusely  have 
now  turned  out  rather  poor,  and  the  crop  will  in  most  cases  be  a 
thin  one.  Strawberries,  Gooseberries,  Rasps,  and  Currants  are  a 
fair  good  crop  and  so  far  free  from  insect  pests. 
Brassicas,  and  vegetables  in  general,  are  looking  well,  and 
promise  to  give  a  full  return.  That  this  latter  crop  is  a 
full  one  is  gratifying,  especially  to  the  market  grower,  who, 
owing  to  the  drought  last  year,  had  a  poor  return.  The  first 
consignment  of  local  grown  Peas  were  offered  for  sale  in  the 
Waverley  Market  this  week,  being  three  weeks  later  than  last 
season. 
Apropos  your  excerpt  from  the  “  Florists’  Exchange,”  on 
page  555,  of  your  issue  of  the  26th  ult. ,  although  I  cannot  herald 
the  inauguration  of  a  society  such  as  there  described,  we  have  at 
any  rate  in  our  city  gardener  a  genius  who  can  be  safely  entrusted 
to  keep  our  public  gardens  up  to  date  in  matters  horticultural. 
The  summer  bedding  in  Princes  Street  Gardens  is  one  of  the 
sights  of  the  city,  and  with  a  view  to  Coronation  season  designs 
have  been  made  accordingly.  In  a  future  issue  I  trust  to  be 
able  to  give  a  more  detailed  description  of  this  excellent  work  of 
Mr.  McHattie’s. 
The  Coronation  fete  and  floral  gala,  held  in  Murrayfield  Park, 
in  some  measure  atoned  for  disappointment  caused  by  the  post¬ 
ponement  of  other  entertainments.  Owing  to  the  backward 
season  the  floral  entries  were  not  what  might  be  expected,  but 
the  other  competitions  were  well  contested.  There  was  a  large 
attendance  of  the  public  during  the  whole  week,  and  the  venture 
reflects  credit  on  the  enterprise  of  Mr.  Hutchison.  Were  our 
two  horticultural  societies  to  hold  a  joint-  floral  fete,  with  enter¬ 
tainments,  every  July,  there  can  be  no  doubt  but  it  would  be  a 
remunerative  speculation  as  well  as  an  interesting  one  for  the 
general  public.  [To  the  last  sentence  we  would  add  the  words: 
Undoubtedly  so. — Ed.] — Scotia. 
Two  Dahlia  Manufactories. 
This  title  fittingly  describes  the  Dahlia  industry,  which  can 
be  observed  in  the  months  of  February,  March,  and  April,  in  the 
nurseries  of  Messrs.  Dobbie  and  Co.,  nurserymen,  of  Rothesay, 
Bute,  and  Hobbies — i.e.,  Pastimes — Limited  (John  Green,  Nor¬ 
folk  Nurseries,  Dereham,  Norfolk.  One  must  go  some  distance 
from  the  centre  of  London  to  reach  either  of  these  establishments, 
and  having  reached  them,  it  is  possible  to  see  where  softwooded 
plants  are  turned  out  by  the  hundred  thousand ;  and  the  visitor 
wonders,  not  so  much  where  the  plants  come  from,  as  it  is 
possible  to  see  the  machinery  of  the  production  of  the  plant- 
material  in  operation,  but  where  they  go. 
JDobbies  of  Rothesay. 
I  took  advantage  of  the  opportunity  of  being  in  Edinburgh 
to  go  on  to  Rothesay  to  see  the  Dahlia  industry  in  full  swing. 
It  is  a  peculiarity  of  the  Rothesay  business  that  they  sell  an 
enormous  number  of  cuttings  of  Dahlias,  and  in  order  to  have 
