The Phlox Drummondii.

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"Flowers for gladness and flowers for sorrow,
Shadowing forth what we fail to tell;
Mystic symbols of tender meanings,
Such as the heart interprets well."

T HIS is one of the most desirable of our annuals, coming into bloom early in the season and continuing in flower till frost. They are very effective in massed colors, and make fine ribbon beds. Contrasting shades should be selected. A writer in the Garden says that the following are very desirable for this purpose: "Phlox Lothair, salmon shaded with violet; Mons Henrique, brilliant reddish crimson; Venus, pure white; Mons Goldenschugh, rosy violet; Spenceri, dark rosy lilac. An excellent front edging for this ribbon bed is the variegated Periwinkle. In order to grow them thoroughly well, and so to insure a lengthened period of blooming, the ground should be deeply trenched and well enriched with good manure from the farm yard, and not more than six heads of bloom should be allowed to each plant. Thus treated, when planted in long lines, it is difficult to convey an impression of these and similar varieties."

There are many beautiful varieties of color; deep blood purple, brilliant scarlet, large blue with white eye, not truly a blue, but the nearest approach to it of any; Leopoldii, splendid deep pink, with white eye; Carmine Queen and Violet with a large white eye; Vick's New Double White, the only one that is reliable, from seed, to produce double flowers. Then there are the buffs and the stripes, crimson striped with white, and rose and purple. Mr. Vick, who makes a specialty of the Drummondii Phlox, they being a favorite with him, devotes acres to their cultivation, and who has been experimenting with them for several years, has produced several new sorts that are very fine; one of them is deep red with a fringed edge. There have been very marked improvements since this plant was first discovered in Texas by Mr. Drummond, a botanical collector sent out by the Glasgow Botanical Society, and it was one of the last, if not the very last, sent to Europe by him. He soon after went to Cuba, where he died of a fever in the prime of life. Sir N. J. Hooker named the plant after its discoverer as a memento. When first discovered it was very inferior to the flowers seen in our gardens, as is very apparent from an engraving of it taken from a drawing in Mr. Vick's possession, which was made in 1838, three years after its discovery. It is given in Vick's Magazine for September, 1880, with the items we have cited. The word Phlox signifies flame, and is supposed to have been applied in allusion to the flame-like form of the bud.

A lady who had excellent success with her seedlings, started early in a box, and bedded out one cloudy day in May, says: "I was surprised to find flowers on the plants when so young and small. I don't believe they had been transplanted five days before half of them had flowers, and soon the rest followed, and for more than two months my bed has been glorious—a mass of bright colors more beautiful than any carpet or dress pattern ever made. It is near the middle of September, and if the frost will only keep away, it looks as though they would keep on flowering for years. Tell everybody to have a Phlox bed and how to do it. It is the cheapest pleasure possible."

CARRIE, in Vick's Magazine.

VERBENAS.

This we must have, for it is one of the most beautiful annuals cultivated. So varied its hues! So abundant its blooms! Not a brief season of flowering, and then naught but leaves, which are, not of themselves attractive, but an increase of blossoms from June till October, and it requires quite a severe frost to mar their beauty. They have the best effect massing each color by itself, and beds of a circular form cut in the lawn and filled with Verbenas, have a superb effect. Seedlings are much the best for bedding out, they are so much stronger and more bushy. Those plants offered for sale in pots, having one tall slender stem, crowned with a cluster of flowers, are almost worthless for the garden. True, if you get a healthy one, by layering and pegging down, you can sometimes get good plants, but you had better purchase seedlings by the dozen as they are offered in boxes and baskets, or order them of the florist by mail or express, and you will have plants that will grow compact, bloom early and profusely, with far better foliage than the puny straggling ones rooted from cuttings. One objection to purchasing seedlings by the clump is, I am well aware, the fact that they are not labeled as to color, and everybody wants to know that they will have at least one scarlet, one white, purple, and so on, and unless the color is peeping through the bud, one must buy with the risk of not knowing the desired color. This is the true state of the case so far as my own observation extends. But it need not be so, and we presume it is not so everywhere. Seedlings can be raised of course with each of the leading colors separate, and those in greatest demand in large quantities to meet the wants of the general public, while the fancy sorts can be of mixed varieties. Those who raise their own seedlings, usually buy a paper of mixed sorts, so in that case they are no better off than those who purchase seedlings of the florist, and as their facilities are far greater for raising early plants, it seems preferable as a general thing, to buy of them, for these reasons. In order to have good sizable plants for bedding out in May and June that will bloom in August, seed must be sown the first of March, at the latest, for it takes weeks for the little dry sticks to germinate, and then they are such slow growers, unless under the most favorable circumstances, they do not become strong vigorous plants by the time you want to bed them out. Few can care for them properly while their sunny windows are full of choice house plants, so that as a rule, we should deem it preferable to wait until May, and then purchase the large budded seedlings, which so quickly unfold their beautiful flowers to brighten the garden, when it is almost barren of bloom. They do not cost usually more than sixty cents per dozen, and one is saved from so much care.

However, for the benefit of those who prefer to sow their own seed, we will give directions for the best method. First, be sure that the seed is new. Don't sow old seed for it will not germinate. If you have no hot bed, make one in a box or pan by putting in a layer of quite fresh horse manure for bottom heat; over this a layer of coarse sand; then fill the box with finely sifted soil, mixed with at least one-third fine sand. Make it smooth; then in little rows drop the seeds, not very sparsely, for all may not germinate, and if too thick when they come up they can be thinned out. Press the seed down with a bit of flat board, sift a little soil over them and then dampen by light spraying with tepid water; a brush dipped in water makes a gentle sprayer. Cover with paper, glass, or what is better, a bit of soft flannel wrung out of water laid on the surface, as it keeps the soil damp without sprinkling, by being wet as it dries. The soil must be kept moist, not soaking wet, for however helpful to germination a previous soaking may be, when sown the seed must not be drenched, and the same rules are equally applicable to the seedlings, for in either case rot would surely follow. It is just here where the special care is requisite to insure success. After the plants have come up, the flannel or paper must be removed and the seedlings given sunshine and air, though it is well to have a glass over the top of the box for a week or more, as more moisture is thereby secured; but there ought to be an aperture for the admission of air. When two or more leaves are developed, it is well to prick them out into other boxes or pots, if they are too thick for free growth; not all, a part can remain undisturbed. They should be gradually hardened as a preparation for out-door life, by being placed in cool situations. While heat is essential to start the seed into growth, it is not beneficial to the plants, and those who have a cold frame had better remove the plants to it as soon as the temperature will admit.

In bedding out, an open situation is preferable. The ground should be well dug and enriched, with well-decomposed manure, and if the soil is heavy a liberal mixture of sand. A situation where the morning sun will not strike them before the dew is off in the morning is best, as this is one cause of the mildew or rust which so frequently saps the vitality of the leaves. In order to promote their spreading, it is a good plan to fasten down some of the branches when sufficiently flexible to the ground, and for this, nothing is more convenient than hair-pins. All the seed vessels should be pricked off in order to secure the best results, as much of the strength of the plant goes to them if allowed to remain. One can afford to be very liberal in gathering the flowers, for the more liberally they are picked off, the more rapidly buds form and develop. As it was with one of Bunyan's characters:

The wise man says: "There is that scattereth and yet increaseth."

A florist says that "to grow Verbenas successfully, plant them in beds cut in the turf. Chop the turf well and thoroughly mix with it a good share of well-decomposed stable manure; never, on any account plant them in old and worn-out garden soil as they will most assuredly fail. Give them a change of soil each season, as they do not thrive well two years in the same bed."

As a house plant the Verbena is not a success. It is most always sickly, and infested with red spiders. They cannot be kept over winter in a cellar; it is growth or death.

Verbenas were first introduced into Europe about fifty years ago from South America, and a few years later into this country. They have been greatly improved, and the varieties are very numerous. Many are fragrant. The only hardy sort is Montana, a native of Colorado. It is a profuse bloomer, color, a bright rose. There are the German Hybrids, the Italian stripes, and the Drummondii from Texas. Every year brings its novelties, as with other flowers. Mr. C. E. Allen, who makes a specialty of seedling Verbenas, is sending out several fine ones this season; Silver Queen, Florence, Emma, Carroll, Ralph and Variegata are very attractive according to the descriptions.

PETUNIAS.

Petunia

Few things in the garden will make more show throughout the entire season, even after quite severe frosts, than a bed of Petunias from a paper of seed marked "Choicest Mixed from Show Flowers." They will produce such a profusion of flowers, charming one from day to day with their variations of markings, and of color. Some retain their distinctive characteristics, while with others they are changeful as the Kaleidoscope. Stripes, blotches, sprays, white throats, green edges, they are just lovely. Then there are the double sorts; purple with white spots, white with purple; rose color, white, purplish-crimson margined with white; lilac veined with purple; white with stripes of purple in the center of each petal, some exquisitely fringed; large and full as a rose, and some almost as sweet.

In nothing, perhaps, has there been such a wonderful improvement by culture and hybridising as the Petunia. Mr. Vick tells us how that half a century ago, he saw for the first time, a Petunia. It was a novelty—a strange flower from a flowery land, South America, and it was carefully treated in green-houses. The flower was white and small, and looked somewhat as if made of paper—such a flower as would now be destroyed if by chance seen growing accidentally in our gardens. The novelty soon subsided, and although it was ascertained that it could be grown in gardens, it did not possess sufficient merit to gain popular favor. A little later, however, about 1831, to the astonishment of the floral world, it was announced that a new Petunia, of a purple color, had been discovered in Buenos Ayres. It was first flowered and seeded in the Botanic Gardens of Glasgow, and thence seed was sent all over Europe and to America, where it soon became a great favorite. About thirty years ago a double Petunia was grown and propagated by cuttings. It was only semi-double and white, but it was the commencement of a new era in Petunia culture. Truly wonderful have been the advances in development of this beautiful flower.

The Petunia is divided into three distinct classes, the Grandiflora, Small Flowered and Double.

The Grandiflora varieties have a strong succulent growth, the flowers are not so numerous as some others, but are very large and double, frequently measuring three inches in diameter, and some kinds are exquisitely marked with various shades of violet, purple, maroon and scarlet upon white ground; some striped, others bordered, some marbled, some deeply fringed. The double Petunia gives no seed, and it is only by fertilizing single flowers with the pollen of the double that seed can be obtained. But Petunias of all kinds are easily multiplied by cuttings.

The Small Flowered class are those that make our gardens so attractive with their varied hues and markings. Some of the new hybrids are of wonderful beauty. Last year gave two of the Double and Fringed sort that have been frequently noted as gems of the first water.

Mrs. Edward Roby, color, a glowing crimson-maroon, edged with pure white, very double and deeply fringed. Model of Perfection, deep maroon, heavily edged with white, and deeply fringed. These were priced last year in a Western catalogue at $1.50 each; this year they are priced at 30 cents. So one gains by waiting a year for high-priced novelties.

New Double Fringed Petunia for 1881, is President Garfield, which originated with Mr. C. E. Allen, and is thus described in his catalogue: "Color, light purple veined with deep purple magenta, edged with a broad band of an exquisite shade of green. Very novel in its appearance and a new color in double petunias; flower very large and deeply fringed. Plants strong and vigorous; one of the finest sorts ever offered." For a Petunia so unique as this, with its broad band of green, and now offered for the first time; its price, 75 cents, is low.


Pansies.

"Open your eyes, my Pansies sweet,
Open your eyes for me,
Driving away with face so true,
The chilling wind and wintry hue,
That lingers so drearily.
"Open your eyes, my Pansies sweet,
Open your eyes for me.
Where did you get that purple hue?
Did a cloudlet smile as you came through?
Did a little sunbeam bold
Kiss on your lips that tint of gold?
Tell me the mystery.
"In your eyes a story I read—
A story of constancy.
After the storms and winter's wind,
Softly you come with influence kind;
Then as I bend with listening ear,
Your cheerful voice I plainly hear,
Preaching a sermon to me.
"So, whisper to me, my Pansies sweet—
Tell me in rustlings low,
Of that beautiful land where fadeless flowers
Brightly bloom in immortal bowers,
And no blighting wind doth blow.
"Tell of the care that is over all—
That gives you your garments gay;
Whose loving hand clothes the floweret small
That grows in the field, or by the garden wall,
Whose life is only a day.
"Yes, tell of the love, my Pansies sweet,
Of the love that knows no end;
That through earth's winter safely keeps
Watch over his children, and never sleeps;
The love that paints the violet blue,
And quenches your thirst with drops of dew,
The weary heart's faithful friend."

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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