The Canadian Horticulturist.

The Grape Vine Flea-Beetle (Haltica chalybea, Illiger) has been one of the most formidable enemies that the grape growers of this country have had to contend with. The only redeeming feature about it is that it seldom appears in the same locality in great numbers during consecutive years. These beetles leave their hibernating quarters in April, and attack and destroy the young leaf-buds as soon as they appear; later they feed upon the leaves which have escaped their earlier ravages, and deposit their eggs upon them. The eggs are of an orange color, and soon hatch into small chestnut colored larvæ. These larvæ also feed upon the leaves, and when they appear in great numbers sometimes strip the vines of their foliage. After a month of active life the larvæ descend to the ground and bury themselves near the surface, where they make cells of the earth and change to pupæ of a dirty yellow color. The adult beetles issuing in the course of a few weeks, again feed upon the leaves during the autumn, doing, however, but little damage, and later seek their winter quarters beneath the bark and splinters on the vines and the stakes which support them, as well as under any rubbish that may be in the vineyard.

This week specimens of this insect were brought me by Mr. A. R. Phillips, of this city, with the statement that his vineyard in Virginia is infested with them to a perilous extent. I at once sent Mr. L. O. Howard, my first assistant, in company with two others to the vineyard in question for the purpose of experimenting with remedies. Mr. Howard’s report was very gratifying. Finding it impracticable to jar them from the vines into sheets or other receptacles, and keep them there, he hit upon the plan of drenching the sheets with kerosene; this worked in a most satisfactory manner. The mode of procedure is as follows: Take two pieces of common cotton sheeting, each being two yards long and half as wide; fasten sticks across the ends of each piece to keep the cloth open and then drench with kerosene. Give the sheets thus prepared to two persons, each having hold of the rods at opposite ends of the sheets. Then let the persons pass one sheet on either side of the vine, being careful to unite the cloth around the base of the vine; then let a third person give the stake to which the vine is attached a sharp blow with a heavy stick. Such a blow will in nearly every case jar the beetles into the sheets, where the kerosene kills them almost instantly.

This process, after a little experience, can be performed almost as rapidly as the persons employed can walk from one vine to another. The expense necessary is very trifling, and boys can do the work quite as well as men. Warm bright afternoons are the proper times for this work to be done, and it should be performed faithfully every sunny day until the vines are out of danger. This mode of combatting the beetle promises to be much more effectual than any other which has been hitherto suggested; for it can be used early in the season before the vines are seriously injured and before the insects have begun to multiply. In connection with the above, the remedies which have been recommended often should, if necessary, be used. These are as follows: First, all rubbish should be removed from the vineyard, and the stakes and trellises which support the vines be well cleaned of bark and splinters, so as to afford the beetles little chance for hibernating in the vineyard. Second, if the larvæ appear in great numbers, lime should be sifted over the vines.

Mr. Editor,—In looking over the Daily Globe of the 12th instant, I was very much interested in the Report of the Agricultural Commission, and was very much pleased to see the growing interest taken in the science of Horticulture, for a science it is, and the more it is studied as such the more thoroughly it will be practically appreciated by the farming community of our country. In your examination before the committee, in answer to the various questions proposed—one of them was the time required to bring the different varieties into bearing—you instance the Red Astrachan and the Duchess of Oldenburg, but forgot our precocious little Wagner; and then go on to notice other varieties, the Spy among the rest. Now, just here comes in my object in sending you this “clodhopper” article for your consideration. In my little experience of fruit raising, I have observed that both climate and soil have a large influence in determining the time necessary to bring the different varieties into bearing. You say the Spy requires ten years. On my farm, situated at the base of the limestone ridge in the County of Halton—a calcareous clay soil—the Spy came into bearing in seven years. On A. T. Springer’s farm, at Burlington, they are hardly in full bearing at thirteen years, on a sandy loam and under the most favorable climatic conditions. In the County of Simcoe, nearly forty-five degrees north, I have seen Spys that have been planted nearly twenty years and have never borne fruit yet. On the same kind of soil, ten miles north of Barrie, I have seen the finest specimens of Fameuse that I ever saw grow, and the trees breaking down with the weight of fruit. I think that soil, climate, altitude, contiguity to large bodies of water, and constitution of different varieties, largely determine whether fruit trees are fruitful or sterile. For instance, no one at all acquainted with the subject would ever think of planting a Baldwin in a climate where the thermometer sinks 25 deg. below zero; yet it is very frequently done in the County of Simcoe. Of course the trees die. Unfortunately, the farmers are often duped by interested, unscrupulous agents, who, in plain English, don’t hesitate to lie.

You mention the Spitzenburg as one of the best; and so it is. Yet no tree is more capricious in its choice of soil to be able to produce the finest quality of fruit. In your book on Horticulture you say it is a poor grower. When I read it I was astonished. On my farm it was the most rapid grower in the orchard, so much so that although they were planted twelve yards apart, the branches were interwoven and produced the finest fruit. Take for instance the Roxbury Russet, which comes to the finest state of perfection on a sandy loam. On my farm, under the highest cultivation I could give it, it was a miserable failure.

Some fruit growers are quite mystified when some one or more of their Greenings that have been grafted on natural stocks come to bear, find them small and inferior both in size and quality, and wonder how it is, not knowing that some kinds are very much influenced by the natural stock. So much is the Greening affected by the parent stem, that if the natural fruit is very small you cannot by any amount of cultivation or trimming produce a large sized apple. Graft a Greening on a Fall Pippin stock and note the difference. The Rambo is influenced in the same way, but in a less degree.

What we want in Ontario is a well written essay on the subject of orchard culture, published in pamphlet form, so as to be within the reach of every one. First, on preparation and kinds of soil; secondly, locality, exposure north or south; shelter, how best secured, and in what way; thirdly, the proper kinds to cultivate under the different climatic conditions, and also to specify the mode of culture on the many varieties of soil, and the kinds most suitable to each; fourthly, the absolute necessity of thoroughly fencing the orchard, and of allowing no animal inside of the gate larger than a hog, to graze; fifthly, and lastly, an orchard should be well drained, either under-drained or surface-drained. No grain of the cereal kind should be allowed at any time; and after coming into regular bearing, the rule should be invariable, to be content with one crop.

Now, my dear sir, you may think me impertinent in thus addressing you on a subject which I so very imperfectly understand, and what I do know was acquired under very disadvantageous circumstances. Having never seen you but once, two years ago, when I was sent to select an orchard for a gentleman in the county of Simcoe, I was very unfortunate at the time, having caught a severe cold, which made me so hoarse I could not converse with you on my old hobby. I need hardly say how disappointed I was when I could neither ask nor answer a question.

My reason for thus addressing you is to suggest that something should be done to awaken public interest in a matter of so much importance to the welfare of the horticultural department in Ontario, which under scientific culture would be second to none, at least in apple cultivation, not even leaving out the plums.

Thos. Coutes.   

Wyoming County don’t bother much with small fruits, probably because it is a large county. We have scarce anything under cultivation smaller than pumpkins, except apples. We had plums, but when the black knot and the curculio put in their claims, we gave them up quietly, rather than have a fuss about it.

We have here and there pear trees of native breed, set by our fore fathers when the country was new; they are healthy, like the men who planted them, but not one farmer in five puts out any of the new sorts. In most of our families they are forbidden fruit.

Peaches, often very good ones, raised from the stone, are among the recollections of our childhood, but of late not one family in twenty makes an effort to grow them. They miss the virgin soil, the shelter of the woods, and we fear suffer from unnatural methods of propagation. Mr. Look, of Wyoming, mentioned in our last report, and who died since, grew them successfully, proving plainly that there are warm, dry, sheltered, elevated positions in the country where peaches would grow if the worms were killed and they were otherwise cared for; especially if some virgin soil was put about their roots.

An enterprising fellow-citizen some years ago heard of strawberries, and judged from reports (probably circulated by nurserymen) that they were good things to have; so the next time he went somewhere he brought home some vines. He put them in a rich place, tended them well the first year—folks generally do—they grew and blossomed finely, but not a single berry—not one! He didn’t swear—Christians are not expected to—but he wanted to very bad. He said he expected to be cheated from the first; he was warned against tree peddlers and the like; he ought to have known better than to chase after new things; there was a time when farmers stuck to their own business, and he should do so for the future. Prof. Zenas Morse, of Hamilton Academy, learned in horticulture and all sciences, was induced to come among us, and explained that our friend’s strawberries were the “Staminate” kind—a sort of bachelor brotherhood, which, left to themselves, never amount to anything anyway. Col. Cheney came to the rescue, invented a new kind, offered to tell everybody how to raise strawberries, raised them himself, claiming that as land was not scarce in Wyoming County, there was no good reason why we should go to Rochester, as we had always done, for our berries, whenever our religious necessities called for a church festival. It was all of no use. Wyoming people ain’t caught twice in the same trap; they now keep pretty much clear of the strawberry business. It is apparent, even to the most casual observer, that they can’t be grown without much labor. That of itself should condemn them as a domestic institution. We are willing to work, and to work hard, but we want to work for something that will bring money—something that will buy more land.

It is agreed in our county that small fruits must take care of themselves. Blackberries and black raspberries conform to our arrangement. They set themselves out in the spare places, and do everything but pick themselves. If your society wants to do anything respectable they will get up a sort that will pick themselves. Our women pick them now, but we are sorry to say our modern women are not what their grandmothers were; they don’t meet their responsibilities so cheerfully. Coming in about noon in a hot day in July with a few berries, they are apt to remark, and some times rather tartly, “It don’t pay to ramble all over creation for a quart of berries, when they can be raised in the back of the garden in half the time.” We get along pretty well with that, but when they make a wider circuit just in the rear of another foraging party, and come in tired and hungry with a dozen berries, we think it better to go out and hoe those beans immediately.

We all had currant bushes that took care of themselves and gave us plenty of rather small currants; but finally the worms ate them all up. Professor Morse told us to give the worms hellebore, but the skeptical folks said they didn’t believe there was any such medicine, and the orthodox said they would not waste it on worms.

We have a small, sour, red cherry, good for cooking and preserves. We have it because a sprout came in with the pioneers, grew and multiplied in spite of us. On the principle of “the survival of the fittest,” it ought to be the best cherry. It always survives, always sprouts, and makes a free nursery for the neighborhood. There are three objections to it: First, it is not fit to eat; second, it will not carry itself around and set itself out as well as raspberries and Canada thistles do; third, instead of growing like a currant bush it grows higher than women can reach; and since, from the force of circumstances, they are bad at climbing trees, we are obliged to furnish a boy to pick the cherries. As it is all the kind we have, we wish to speak well of it.

Our villages furnish exceptions to these statements. Clergymen don’t abjure the good things of this life as much as their sermons lead us to suppose. As for lawyers and loafers, they take all they can get. Only the farmers and day laborers, who rise at four o’clock in the morning, finish their chores at nine o’clock at night, and go to bed worrying about the next day’s business, confine themselves to bread and butter, pork and potatoes, with apple sauce and mince pies on Sunday, and a dessert of sour cherries once a year.

Many, if not the majority of gardens, which in the spring and early summer charm the eye and gladden the heart with a profusion of flowers become all at once, as autumn approaches, almost destitute of bloom. This is not surprising, when we consider that the greater number of shrubs and plants flower in May and June, and that the late flowering species and varieties are not, comparatively speaking, numerous nor sufficiently well known to be duly appreciated or properly employed. Some persons are accustomed to regard this annual change as a natural consequence, and make no attempt to extend the flowering season, while others more observant having noticed that there are gardens which, even during the summer months, exhibit a wealth of flowers, are prompted to inquire, and questions are often put to us in this way:

What can I plant to render my garden beautiful and attractive in autumn?

It is gratifying to note that during the past few years considerable interest has been manifested in this subject, and in response to many inquiries I have prepared a brief list of choice fall flowering shrubs and plants, which, if judiciously used, will render the surroundings of our houses exceedingly attractive during the autumn months.

I would direct attention first to the

 

ALTHÆA OR HIBISCUS SYRIACUS,

 

commonly called the Rose of Sharon, a most remarkable and valuable shrub, which, as it were, holds its blooms in reserve until there is a notable scarcity of flowers. Whether in the mixed border among other shrubs or isolated upon the lawn, the Althæa when in flower produces a charming effect, relieving the monotonous aspect which prevails in most gardens at this season, and enlivening the landscape with its bright flowers. It must be admitted that the blooms of this shrub lack delicacy of texture, brilliancy and purity of color, but when there is a dearth of flowers we must not be too critical. Seen from the bush, its coarseness cannot be detected, and that which to some eyes appears to be a defect or blemish, serves on the contrary only to enhance its value for out of door decoration. We must recollect that coarse flowers have their offices to fulfill as well as the delicate ones. Besides considerable progress has been made in improving the Althæa, and amateurs will be pleased to learn that the new varieties are quite in advance of the older sorts. Among recent introductions Boule de Feu, which produces large double flowers of a violet red color, can justly command admiration. Duc de Brabant with very full flowers of reddish lilac color may also be regarded as an acquisition, while Leopoldii flore pleno with large, double flesh-colored blooms, together with Totus albus, having single snowy white flowers, are, I think, all destined to become favorites as soon as known. A few of the older varieties, like the Double Variegated or Painted Lady, Pæniflora, and the Double Red, cannot yet be dispensed with. They flower from the first of August till the first of October. In this latitude an objection is sometimes raised to the Althæa, because it is said to winter-kill in severe seasons. This occurs, however, only with young plants or with specimens recently transplanted, which are not yet fully established. Young plants should be protected with straw or evergreen boughs the first and second winter after being set out, and as soon as they are well rooted they become perfectly hardy.

Another real treasure which all plant lovers esteem highly, on account of its many good qualities, is the

 

HYDRANGEA PANICULATA GRANDFLORA, OR PLUMED HYDRANGEA.

 

Planted singly or assembled in groups or masses, it becomes in August and September, when in full bloom, a real curiosity to many, while to others fully impressed with its magnificence, it is a noble object deserving the highest praise it is possible to bestow on any hardy plant. A circular bed of this shrub occupying a prominent position on our lawn has been the object of so much attention every year that I furnished a brief description of it for the London Garden. The plants composing the bed were in full flower on my return from Europe two years ago, and I wrote the editor, Mr. Robinson, that notwithstanding the many remarkable and effective beds of flowering and fine foliage plants which I had seen abroad, I thought nothing equalled this. “The mass consists of thirty-five plants, with a broad edging of the Coleus ‘Shah’ around it. The contrast between the green grass, the crimson and yellow foliage of the Coleus, and the immense white and pink panicles of the Hydrangea was novel and beautiful. I have often seen and admired large single specimens of this Hydrangea, but masses like this are uncommon, and I call attention to this manner of planting, as it tends greatly to heighten the effect and increase the attractiveness of this noble shrub.” A few hints relative to its culture and management may not be amiss. Being a robust, rank grower, and a very free bloomer, it requires to be well fed. The more food the larger will be the panicles, the greater their number, and the longer they will remain in perfection. I think that I do not exaggerate when I say that most cultivators actually starve this plant, and this fact explains why fine specimens are not oftener seen. A top dressing of the very best manure should be given the plants every fall, and in spring as early as possible it should be incorporated with the earth by means of the spading fork. During the dry summer weather, when the earth around the plants is apt to become hard, it should be loosened and made mellow. If drouth should prevail at the flowering period, which is generally the case, then apply water liberally every evening. Another important operation connected with its management is the pruning of the plant every spring. This should be performed early, say in March, before the sap begins to move, and the stem should be cut back within two or three buds of the old wood. These will then push forth vigorously at the growing season, and every shoot will produce a panicle of flowers. If these directions are observed the result will be surprising.

Next in importance are the

 

TALL PHLOX, OR PHLOX DECUSSATA.

 

These, when properly grown, are unquestionably the finest of autumn flowers, and in the hands of a tasteful cultivator can be made to furnish very satisfactory results in garden ornamentation. Latterly, for some unknown reason, they have not been so popular as they formerly were. On the continent of Europe they are at present held in the highest estimation, and new varieties are being constantly raised from seed, many of which I am pleased to say show great progress. The Phlox has many qualities which commend it for the garden. It is of vigorous habit, easy culture, and produces in great profusion, during a long season, flowers of fine form and substance and of bright and varied colors. Just as the Roses are fading, the Phlox puts forth her first flowers, producing a fine succession of bloom, and prolonging an interesting season at least six weeks.

As regards their culture, it may be briefly stated that they succeed in any good garden soil, but they are greatly improved by being liberally manured, and an occasional supply of liquid manure during the growing season will greatly increase the size of their trusses. When in flower they should be watered freely every evening. The Phlox usually flowers in July and August, and in order to render it autumnal flowering it is necessary to pinch the shoots about the first of June, and again in July; the plants will then flower in September. For early flowers some of the plants may be left unpinched. When two years old the finest trusses are produced. The third year the plants flower tolerably well, but they will not keep healthy and thrifty after that. The old plants should then be lifted in the fall, divided and transplanted. But the better plan is to keep up a succession of young plants from cuttings by securing a fresh collection every spring.

 

THE JAPAN ANEMONE,

 

admitted everywhere to be one of the finest hardy perennials, stands in the foremost rank among plants for autumn decoration. The species called Japonica grows about three feet high, and bears on long footstalks very pretty purple flowers measuring two inches across. A fine variety of the Japonica named Honorine Jobert resembles it in habit, but has snowy white flowers. These, when planted together as companions, produce a fine effect by their contrast. The plant is of such neat, compact habit, demands so little care, is so hardy and beautiful, and bears such an abundance of flowers, that it is sure to become quite popular wherever known. On large lawns a grand circular bed may be formed by planting the center with the white variety, followed with a broad ring of purple around it, then another circle of that fine fall flowering Sedum—spectabile. It is difficult to describe the beauty of beds of this character. They must be seen in all their glory of an autumn day to be fully appreciated. How much more sensible to spend time and money on permanent beds like these, rather than to devote so much to soft-wooded bedding plants which are of such short duration. With the great variety of hardy bedding plants at our disposal, pleasing combinations may be multiplied at will, and beds once well made will be constant objects of pleasure.—To be continued.