morn. 24

29

254

32

21

ENURCHUS, or Evortius, was the bishop of Orleans at the close of the fourth century. It is quite impossible to assign a reason for retaining his name in our almanacks."

NATIVITY OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN MARY.-This festival has been celebrated by the Church of Rome ever since its institution by Pope Servius in the year 695.

PHENOMENA OF THE SEASON. It is quite true that during many weeks of autumn-which season is considered to begin on the 8th of this month-we have dull wet weather, chilly, and softening the change of temperature down to that of harsher winter. Yet,

"If Britain hath not the serene decline

Which makes the southern autumn's day appear

As if 'twould to a second spring resign

The season, rather than to winter drear,
Of in-door comforts still she hath a mine."

And though our father-land hath not so much of the sun-light hours which gild in autumn the vineyards of the south, yet it has those green pastures which are so green, even in their autumn garb, as to be unequalled elsewhere, and those autumn tints upon her woodlands that are so lovely as well to invest the period with the character of being "the painter's months." In the western world this season is characterized as "the fall of the year," and true it is that the leaf's descent to mingle with the soil again is a striking feature of the time;

Fine. 69°-40° Fine. 71°— 37° Fine.

0 18 25 3 50 255

others have characterized September as "the month of the fading leaf," and so truly enough it is. But these are mournful notes of description, whereas we would rather sound those of pleasure associated with autumn, and call its days "the year's days of leaf-tinting.' And how varied is that tinting!-the rich brown mingled with yellow upon the oak, the bright yellow upon the hazel and the lime, the red upon the quicken and the sumach, the red and yellow of the cherry, the tawny of the plane tree, the dull brown of the sycamore, the pale yellow of the maple, the bright lemon of the ash, the orange of the elm, and the bright yellow of the hornbeam, all mingled with lingering hues of varied green, form such bright, contrasted, and harmonious breadths of colour as at no other season, and in no other clime, is spread over the woodland landscape. And what is the philosophy of all this? But a few weeks since these same leaves all wore the vivid verdant livery of the greenwood clan, why then now so changed? The explanation is short and easy. Green is the leaf's natural colour so long as the mysterious vital power of the tree preserves them from the decomposing agents of the air, the warmth and the moisture which are encompassing them, but when the year's vegetable processes have been completed that preservative vital power declines; those leaves are no longer able to resist the pressure from without, and those yellow, red, and light brown tints, now rendering the foliage of our plants so beautiful, arise from the absorption of an excess of oxygen. When the reduced temperature of the season deprives a leaf of the power to elaborate the sap, and, indeed, stops the circulation to it of that fluid, the absorbent powers of the organ are reversed, and instead of carbonic acid it inhales oxygen. The effect is speedily perceptible. Gallic acid forms, and this, modified by the differing saline constituents of different leaves, changes the hue of their green colouring matter, called chlorophyllite or chromulite, into various tints of yellow, red, and brown. This is the general effect of acids acting upon vegetable greens, and that it is the cause of the autumnal change of colour in leaves is proved by the fact that if a green leaf be dipped into an acid it assumes the same hue, and if a fading leaf be dipped into an alkaline solution its former green colour is restored-the alkali evidently neutralizing the acid that had wrought the unnatural change.

1946.

1847.

Fine. 66°-31°

68-56°

66°-54°

Cloudy. Fine.

66°-53° 79°-55°

Showery. Stormy. 66°-51° 74°-56°

Fine.

1848.

Fine. 68°-43°

Cloudy. Fine. 67°-44° 64°-55° Showery. Fine. 66° 39° 66° 49° Fine. Fine. 71°-43° 67°-54° Fine. Fine. 75°-43° 69°-43° Fine. Fine. 60°-36°

Fine. 70°-42°

INSECTS.-The Fritillary butterflies are among the most common and most beautiful of this class of English insects. They are mostly found near woods and bushy commons, but as the caterpillars of one of them which is found in this month are occasionally devourers of our garden violets, it may now be noticed appropriately. This is the Pearl-bordered Fritillary, Melitaa Euphrosyne of some entomologists, and the Papilio and Argynius Euphrosyne of others. The wings are tawny-red, spotted and lined with black, and about two inches across when fully opened; they have a row of silvery or pearly spots round the edge. The caterpillar is black and spiny, with two rows of orange spots on its back. The first brood of this butterfly appears in May, and the second in September, being in the latter season more yellow than in the spring.

WHERE can liquid manure be most advantageously employed? admits but of one reply. Beneath the surface and close to the roots of the plants it is intended to benefit. If it is applied upon the surface a much larger quantity must be employed than is available, or necessary, before it can be made to soak down to the vicinity of the roots which are desired to feed upon it. That is a waste; but, in addition, by being poured upon the surface of the soil, the heat of this and of the sun, aided by the winds, speedily drive off a large portion of the manure's most valuable constituents. This is indicated by the smell, and as

No. XLIX., VOL. II.

Mr. Chadwick observes in his valuable essay on "Sewer Manure," from which we quoted last week: "All offensive smells from the decomposition of animal and vegetable matter indicate the loss of fertilizing matter, the loss of money, and bad husbandry." But we need not depend upon the testimony of our noses only, but only pour a little of the ammoniacal liquor of the gas-works upon the soil during a hot day, and hold over it a piece of paper dipt previously into muriatic acid-the fumes which will be rendered visible are the ammonia escaping and being lost in the air. It is quite true that the

X

fumes arising from the sewage water, or liquid manure formed from animal dungs, are not thus detectable, but they are escaping in a degree proportionate to the strength of the manure, and all such escape is "loss of money and bad husbandry."

"But how can you apply it but to the surface?" We will tell you what we have been doing, and then you may judge for yourself. Between two rows of cabbage plants we have sunk a row of garden-potsa pot between four plants-as represented in this diagram; the round dots being the pots, and the black

dots the plants. What the result may be we cannot tell, for the experi ment has not yet been long enough conducted, but we do know that the liquid manure poured into those pots gets down at once to the roots where it is required, soaking away to them through the holes in the bottom of the pots, and much less manure is required than where it is poured upon the surface, and there is much less evaporation. To the roots of celery plants it may be conveyed in a similar mode by having a draining pipe set up on end at intervals of 18 inches, close by the side of the row of plants, and having these pipes earthed up as the earthing up of the plants proceeds. We usually grow celery in double rows, the rows a foot apart, and here a single row of pipes may be put in between the rows of plants, and supply both.

We owe the suggestion of underground application to Mr. Chadwick's Essay, who says:

"The observation of some casual examples of the increased vegetation marking strongly the course of house-drains which run close to the surface of lawns suggested the inquiry whether irrigation might not be conducted in covered instead of open channels of distribution.

"Such casual examples of subterranean irrigation on a small scale appeared to me to be demonstrative of the fact (shown experimentally by Sir Humphrey Davy, when he directed the neck of a retort under the soil, and discharged gas into the earth, which displayed afterwards an increased amount of fertility) that plants are supported by manure in combination with moisture in a gaseous state. This was also shown by the increased fertility of the vegetation of turf coverings over manure tanks, where the roots must apparently derive their whole nourishment from the moist or gaseous emanations."

How grateful to plants is this underground mode of applying manure is testified by the following facts:

"When wooden pipes were in use for the conveyance of water under ground for the supply of towns, before iron pipes were introduced, one cause of obstruction in the wooden pipes was the roots of trees getting into them. Mr. Mylne, the engineer of the New River Company, stated to me, that formerly if their wooden pipes were carried within thirty yards of trees, they were never safe from having the pipes

in time stopped up by the roots. The roots 'found' the joints, and insinuated through them, and then spread out in "foxtails" of fibrous matter, two or three feet long, which have in time filled the pipes and seriously checked the flow of the water. Similar intrusions have been frequently found in earthen drains and water-pipes; but it has been reported to me by a good observer that roots have not, under similar circumstances, entered upon water-pipes of iron or lead. If it should appear that the roots are repelled from entrance by the rust or injurious properties of the metals, that would seem to be an important fact as to the selective powers of the roots. "I have, however, been informed of instances where iron pipes, for the conveyance of warm water under ground, have been curiously surrounded by the root of the vine, which would appear to have sought the stimulus of the warmth.

"On taking down the walls of Kensington gardens, which were very thick, it was found that the roots had forced their way through them, to get into a ditch on the opposite side. I have been informed also of instances where roots have forced their way through the walls of houses into house-drains; and one instance has been mentioned to me where the roots, having grown, have in time actually lifted up and split the outer walls of the house.

The

It is astonishing the depth that the roots even of the smaller vegetables will descend after the water: a deep drain outside the garden-wall at Welbeck was entirely stopped by the roots of some horseradish plants at the depth of seven feet in the ground. At Thoresby Park, Lord Manvers's, a drain fourteen feet deep was entirely stopped by the roots of gorse growing at a distance of six feet from the drain. At Saucethorpe, an estate of Lord Manvers, in Lincolnshire, a drain nine feet deep was filled up by the roots of an elm tree which was growing upwards of fifty yards from the drain; but under these peculiar circumstances, the elm tree grew at the end of a sunk fence, the wall of which was formed of turf. root of the elm got between the turf wall and the solid bank, and worked its way along till it got into the drain, which it soon filled up. The roots of all trees will stop drains, but especially of soft woodedtrees, such as willow, alder, poplar, &c. Ash trees, too, are very dangerous neighbours to deep drains. In one case the roots of grass stopped a drain two feet deep in the parish of Mansfield Woodhouse; the drain had been carried across a field of old turf to convey water for cattle from a higher level. The explanation of this disposition of the roots both of vegetables and trees to strike deeper than ordinary in pursuit of drains appear to be this:-in digging the drains, the sides are cut down straight, and the ground left like walls on each side, while over the drain the earth is all moved; between the solid and the moved soil for a long time something like a fissure or crevice remains. When the roots in their progress through the solid land reach this fissure, they pass down it, and so follow its course into the drains."

Our space warns us to conclude, but we shall resume the subject at the first possible opportunity.

THE FRUIT-GARDEN.

THE FIG.-As we have observed repeatedly before, rampant growth is the principal hindrance to a fruitful habit in the fig. This rampant character will be found the greatest in the northern parts of the king

dom, or rather in those counties which possess a greater amount of atmospheric moisture, as related to temperature, than their neighbours. There can be little doubt that the leaf of the fig possesses vast absorbing powers, and hence the astonishment of many persons, who have not thoroughly considered the subject, at finding their figs too gross in what they had considered poor soil. Their vital powers, too, are immense; we once planted some old truncheons which had lain at the faggot heap through many weeks of a hard winter, when very many of the figs growing against walls were killed. Now, these figs grew well, and, indeed, are still thriving too fast by half, on a wall out of doors. We advise one more critical examination of the fig immediately; for where they grow coarse, and have been neglected for a few weeks, they will be found too full of spray of a flimsy and immature character, which proves a serious impediment to the ripening of both wood and fruit. In selecting those to remain, be sure to save the very shortest-jointed shoots; everything depends on a pertinacious adherence to this maxim, which is of equal importance in the case of the fig as the vine. It must be remembered, nevertheless, that not too many even of these must be retained; not he who retains the most good-looking shoots obtains the most figs. We have, indeed, seen cases in which a huge old tree against a south wall will produce a multitude of short-jointed shoots, of such a stumpy and fruitful character that six or seven joints would be comprised within the length of about four inches, which, indeed, was the average length of the young shoots. When such is the case, a considerable number may be retained, for the leaves of many figs when in so highly a fruitful state are not so large as those on gross and barren plants, and, of course, do not shade each other so much. We consider that as many shoots may be tied down as will completely clothe the old stems from bottom to top. We speak now of tying down on the main stems, for we hold this the best plan; those, however, who choose to nail them between, can do so, for the difference as to the fig is scarcely worth contending about, the amount and character of the young shoots reserved being of far more importance. As to number of shoots, that depends, in part, on the distance at which the main shoots are placed; if these are, as we have before advised, a foot apart at least, why then there is every chance of laying in a considerable quantity. We would advise the operator to begin at the top of the tree, and commence selecting shoots according to the character heretofore laid down, and when the first is tied down, and its point pinched off-of which more shortly— then another may be selected close to the very spot where the pinching of the former took place, and so on downwards, stripping all those away entirely which are considered superfluous. All small, weak, and immature looking spray, of later growth, must be rubbed off. This severe course of operation will naturally astonish those who are taking in the mere alphabet of horticulture; for such a severe course of discipline would go far towards ruining the constitution of some of our more delicate fruit; the fig, however, has such extraordinary vital powers, that its total destruction is not easily accomplished.

Having said thus far about training, selection, &c., we come now to another important part of fig culture, viz., "stopping." Such fig trees as we have described, as possessing a host of short joints in a very narrow compass, and which are fruitful without interference, need not this process: these, however, are the exception-we have the rule to deal with. It is well, there

fore, to stop all those of a doubtful character at the end of August, or the very beginning of September, merely pinching off or squeezing flat the terminal growing point. This will induce the fruit for the ensuing year to commence forming, so as to receive a decisive character. This stopping, however, is a matter of some nicety, and the period of performing it must be determined both by the kind and its condition or habit. A too early stopping with some figs, which are not very difficult to fruit, would cause them to develop the fruit for the ensuing year too early; for if they become as large even as a black currant berry, they will be almost sure to perish with severe weather in the ensuing winter. Stopping, therefore, is a matter of some nicety, and had better be performed over late than early. These things accomplished, little more remains to be done to the figs except gathering the ripening fruit; their ripeness is readily known by their pulpiness, which may be ascertained in a moment by the slightest pressure imaginable.

STORING APPLES.-Having adverted to the gathering of apples, and the general principles of management consequent on housing them, we may now be permitted to remark on the general modes of storing them. Every one has not the convenience of an extensive and well-planned fruit-room, and not every fruit-room will hold the stores which propitious seasons will yield. Some other mode, therefore, must be adopted besides putting a single layer on shelves, which mode is scarcely to be expected with any other than first-rate dessert fruit: although right in principle, it is not of universal application, and expedients here become positive virtues.

Seeing, then, that such fruit as apples-and even pears-must be stored in bodies like potatoes, what is the best plan to preserve them? Exclusion of air is a well-known principle, but then there is the fermentation to fight against. It would appear that, before pitting apples or putting them away in boxes, tubs, &c., some sweating should be previously allowed; for since the apple, and, perhaps, most other fruits, perspire more during the first three weeks after housing than at any subsequent period, it becomes an important consideration whether or not a considerable amount of perspiratory matter cannot be freely voided, previously to the final storing, with ultimate benefit to the fruit. We certainly have never "pitted" them as people pit potatoes, yet we have known it done within our ken, and the only impression left on our mind is that apples will keep fresh in appearance much longer than if permitted to perspire freely, and, by consequence, shrivel on shelves or floors.

We do think that the old plan of placing a layer or two on a floor in some corner of an outhouse, then a thin layer of well-dried straw to prevent contact, then another layer, and so on, is about as good a plan for ordinary purposes as can be devised. To be sure, if kiln-dried straw can be obtained so much the better; fresh straw being both apt to impart flavour and to engender or foster damp.

By such a plan layers of carefully-gathered apples will keep a long time, at least those of keeping properties; taking care to put a layer of the straw or even fern, or such material, if thoroughly dry, between every layer of apples, not more than two or three deep. The room in which they are placed should receive as much ventilation at times as will serve to dispel the moisture arising from them, and which, otherwise, would remain partially suspended in the room, to the deterioration or rather corruption of the walls, floor, cielings, and even the fruit, and the straw

by which it is surrounded. The time for a little ventilation may be easily determined by the sensation produced on entering a close room of the kind; if the air is oppressive to the lungs, depend upon it that a deal of extraneous matter in a gaseous form pervades the atmosphere. The ventilation, however, need not be permitted many hours where the object is to keep fruit as long as possible. It should, moreover, not be made use of when much atmospheric moisture and a dull state of air prevails out of doors; better to wait awhile than to ventilate badly to exchange foul air for any damp air is no great gain; better far to wait a day or two.

Some persons pack their exhibition or long-keeping fruit in jars, and even clean garden pots or other similar vessels have been called into requisition for the same purpose. Indeed, by such means we have seen Ribstone Pippins, Nonpareils, &c. &c., exhibited as fresh in appearance in May as in December; but we never could hear that they were high flavoured. So, then, it seems long-keeping properties, enhanced by artificial means, are in the main obtained at the expense of high flavour. Like the razors, they will look well, but not cut. However, we would not willingly cast a damper on energies directed in this way; fruit may, undoubtedly, be retarded a certain time without sacrifice of flavour. We hope soon to be able to say something on this head-a heading which concerns thousands. R. ERRINGTON.

THE FLOWER-GARDEN.

THE GENUS DIANTHUS.-This is a family of flowers that are, for the most part, very beautiful-rich in colours, of fine forms, and of exquisite fragrance: the name itself is an elegant one-dios, divine, 'anthos, flower-divine flower. In this family is the much admired flower the pink, in praise of which we might launch out freely, but it is needless.

We are sure all our readers are fully sensible of the beauty and fragrance of that justly highly-valued flower; even the worst variety in the florist's eye is in any other considered beautiful. We, therefore, submit to the florist that when he discards seedlings as worthless it would be an act of kindness to bestow them upon his cottage neighbours, to ornament their small flower plots; indeed, not only pinks but any other seedlings of florists' flowers that do not come up to that standard of perfection the raiser judges to be necessary might be very wisely and charitably given to the cottager, to plant in his flower border.

There are several beautiful species in this genus. We select a few of the best. Some of them are Alpine plants, and are excellent for ornamenting rockwork; others are little more than biennials, and require to be raised either from seeds or cuttings annually. They all require a light soil, consisting of half sandy peat, half light loam, with a small portion of vegetable mould well decomposed. Such as are grown in pots should be well drained, and plunged when potted either in sand or coal-ashes in an open situation. They are propagated in various ways: some by seeds, as, for instance, the pink, sweet-william, and carnation; whilst others are increased by root division, and all of them by cuttings or layers.

Dianthus aggregatus flore pleno (Double-clustered pink), 1 foot, red. This is a fine variety, with immense clusters of bright red flowers. suitable either for bedding or for growing in clusters in the borders, Division and cuttings.

D. alpestris (Alpine pink), a beautiful species, with white fringed flowers produced abundantly, 9 inches high; suitable for rockwork. Seeds, division, and cuttings.

D. arbusculus (Little tree pink), also pretty, with rose-coloured flowers; beds and borders. Increase by seeds. 14 foot.

D. deltoides (Maiden pink), rose-coloured, 6 inches high; rock. work or pots. Division or seeds.

D. Fischeri (Fischer's pink), pale pink, 4 inches; a lovely little species. Borders or pots.

D. Garnerianus (Garner's pink), 1 foot, rose and white; very pretty. Division and seeds. Suitable for borders.

D. giganteus (Giant pink), rose, 3 feet. A truly magnificent species, suitable for a large bed or for pots. Increased by cuttings. D. lusitanicus (Portugal pink), 24 feet, crimson; a handsome spe. cies, suitable for borders. Division and cuttings.

D. pumilus (Dwarf pink), crimson, 4 inches; very neat; suitable for pots. Cuttings.

D. superbus (Superb pink), white, 6 inches; a fine species, suitable for pots, to be plunged in the borders during the time they are in flower. Seeds and cuttings.

D. hortensis (Garden pink); D. caryophyllus (Carnation); D. barbatus (Sweet-william). The three last are so well known that it is needless to remark more about them here.

D. Hendersonianus (Henderson's pink), a splendid hybrid, with large flowers of the richest crimson; 1 foot. By cuttings or pipings. There is also the D. sinensis, or Indian pink. These are great ornaments to the flower-garden, especially if care is taken in collecting the seeds from the best kinds. The only safe way to do this is to mark the best-shaped, finest-coloured, and most double kinds, when in flower, and save seeds only from these, throwing all the others away. By following this up for three or four years you will have a bed of Indian pinks inferior to none in point of beauty. The best ought to be taken up in autumn and put in pots, three or four in a pot. Protect them in a frame, or under hand-glasses, through the winter, giving but little water, and planting them out in the spring in a bed. We have dwelt rather long upon this beau tiful species, because, having seen some beds of it in flower that had been carefully selected as we have described, we can bear testimony confidently to the rich tints and fine flowers so produced.

HOLLYHOCKS.-We have just seen a somewhat novel mode of growing these beautiful flowers, which we think worthy of being known and imitated. In a nursery, not far from the ancient Royal Palace of Holyrood, in the fine ancient city of Edinbugh, we saw a fine collection of hollyhocks nailed up against a wall. That wall was built with whitish stone, and the green leaves, and richly-coloured flowers of every hue, excepting blue (a colour, we believe, that has never been seen on these plants), completely covered the wall, and the effect was strikingly beautiful. The walls of many a humble cottage might be so ornamented. Now being the time to transplant seedling hollyhocks, our friends of that class would do well to plant some against the bare walls of either their dwelling or any other building or wall they may have. They would last in such situations very much longer than in the open border, provided there was no drip from the house or other building upon them. Make the soil rich with good rotten dung, for the hollyhock is a coarse feeder, and loves a deep, rich soil. Hollyhocks in the borders, now in flower, will require close attention to keep them securely tied to the stakes. Examine the ties, and if you observe them compressing the stems, cut them off and retie them with fresh matting. i

Propagate your finest kinds by slips taken off from the bottom of the plant; do this very carefully so as not to injure the old stems. Trim off the largest leaves, and put them in under a handglass in a shady place, using plenty of sand in the soil. Mark such as you may think the finest to save seed from with a piece of matting or worsted. It is best to do this early, so that there will be no mistake when the seed is fit for gathering.

FLORISTS' FLOWERS.

TULIP.-It is a good time now to begin to prepare

the bed or beds for these truly noble flowers. Should the situation of the bed be a permanent one, and the soil has been used for several years, it will be necessary to entirely renew it. Make the edge of the bed firm by treading and beating with the back of a bright spade; then stretch a line the entire length, and commencing at one end thrust the spade in, sloping inwards, to its full depth; draw it out again without disturbing the soil, and repeat the operation till the entire body of soil, inside the bed, is cut off from that surrounding it. Commence at one end and take out the soil, wheeling it away to some other part of the garden, laying it on as a fertilizer. For although it may have lost its nourishing qualities for the tulip, it is by no means poor in respect to other plants. For commen vegetables, or even for strawberries, it will be found a good application; take it out to the depth of 16 inches at least, leaving the bottom smooth and level, but by no means hard or compressed by being trodden upon. Examine the drains, and see them set all right; then lay in a covering of very rotten cow-dung, two or three inches thick, and upon this place your main body of soil or compost, which has been preparing in the compost yard for twelve months previously. This compost should consist of the following proportions: seven parts good light loam from a pasture field, the top spit only; one part rotten dung, two years old; and as much sand as will make the whole open and work kindly. Lay this compost in your bed of sufficient height to allow for settling; and never let it settle below the general level, but keep it higher by two or three inches. The bed, however, should not be rounded up in the middle, but kept perfectly even to receive the benefit of the rains. We shall return to this subject next week. T. APPLEBY.

GREENHOUSE AND WINDOW
GARDENING.

CAMPANULA PYRAMIDALIS, or the bell-flower, with tall pyramid-like flowering stems.-This good old plant, which everybody knows, or ought to know, is now going out of bloom, and this is the proper time to make a succession stock of plants from it, to flower this time two years.

PROPAGATION, SOIL, &c.-About the beginning of September is also a good time to sow seeds of it. The seedling plants will not flower till this time three years, at least very few of them will, but nearly a season is gained by sowing the seeds in the autumn. The seeds are very small, and if sown now must be sprinkled very thinly over the surface of light sandy soil in five or six-inch pots. Indeed, all seeds sown in the autumn in pots ought to be sown thinner than when sown in the spring, as the weather is more dull and damp, and the growing season chiefly over, so that the seedlings, if they come up very thickly, are in great danger either of damping or bringing up each other so weakly that they have no strength to pass over a hard or long winter. It has been remarked that seedling plants of this tall campanula grow much taller than those increased in the common way by pieces of the roots and by side slips. From five to eight feet is the usual height for this class, but seedlings grow some feet higher. Suppose, then, we raise a pot or two of seedlings this autumn; they would come up in a warm window, and perhaps that is the very best place to set them in. A cold close pit is the next best, but as soon as the seedlings

are up they must not be kept close, but have air all day long. As, if left to themselves to grow wild, the plant is quite hardy in England, the same treatment as that of the winter mignonette will carry our seedlings safe over the winter, and in the spring all the air that the season will allow of should be given to them, and by the end of April they ought to be in a fit condition to plant out in the open garden. I have often heard and read that dung is inimical to this plant, but the truth is there is no plant in the catalogue which likes dung better, or is more improved by a judicious use of it; therefore, when your seedlings are fit to plant out, choose a piece of light dry soil in an open part of the garden, and trench it 16 or 20 inches deep, and you may mix one-third its own bulk of rotten dung with it, if you have it to spare; or if you were to open a trench 18 inches deep and two or three yards long, and fill it up to the top as they fill celery trenches, that is, with half muck and half good soil from a compost heap, and sprinkle two inches of the common soil on the top, you will have one of the best beds for the out-door culture of the campanula (whether raised as seedlings or in the usual way) that can be made. If you have plenty of seedlings you may put them in four or five inches apart, as probably the slugs and grubs may want a taste of them, and cold easterly winds in May will not add to their number or size; but as soon as they begin to spread out their leaves, thin them out by degrees: by the end of July you may find that a foot apart is not too much for them, and in making your bed or trench you may calculate the space with reference to this final distance. They do best in a single row, and to stand south and north if possible. In hot weather soapsuds or other weak liquid manure must be given them, for although with their succulent thick roots they can stand a smart drought, it is not good policy ever to let them get dry or anything like it. Keep the surface soil as sedulously stirred about them as Mr. Barnes would for his best kitchen crop, and by the end of the first season they will have made such progress as late springsown plants would make in two seasons' growth, and, with the rich compost and still richer waterings, they are so succulent that it would be very dangerous to trust them to the frost without protection. The best way to protect them is to scrape off an inch or two of the surface soil: this will carry away young slugs, and grubs and the eggs of insects, many of which while grubs are very fond of this campanula. This should be done on a dry day in October, and if the weather is likely to hold up, the surface may be left uncovered for three or four days. If any of the leaves still remain cut them off; do not pull them, and the crowns of the plants will get well dried and hardened by the exposure. Then take very dry coal ashes, and place it three inches thick, to the distance of a foot on each side of the plants, and if the crowns are still higher than the coal ashes, make little cones of ashes over them, and only just deep enough to cover them. They may remain that way, perhaps, for a month or six weeks without any frost, and it would be a pity to smother them up at first, as if twenty degrees of frost were expected the following night. We often commit great mistakes in first covering many plants on the approach of winter by laying it on too thickly. After a first coat of coal ashes, as above, is given, we should rest satisfied till actual frost sets in, and then add more as the case may require. It is the crowns of the campanulas which require protection, their roots are hardy enough, and these crowns may be killed by over kindness in the shape of a deep cover