Part 17

All such roses are not discarded each season, but the process is carried on in alternate benches and years, so that there are always some to be obtained. These plants, big, tired-looking, and weak in the branches, I buy for the nominal sum of ten dollars per hundred, five dollars' worth filling a long border when set out in alternating rows. On taking these home, I thin out the woodiest shoots, or those that interfere, and plant deep in the border, into which nitrate of soda has been dug in the proportion of about two ounces to a plant.

After spreading out the roots as carefully as possible, I plant firmly and water thoroughly, but do not as yet prune off the long branches. In ten days, having given meanwhile two waterings of liquid manure, I prune the bushes back sharply. By this time they will have probably dropped the greater part of their leaves, and having had a short but sufficient nap, are ready to grow, which they proceed to do freely. I do not encourage bloom in July, but as soon as we have dew-heavy August nights it begins and goes on, increasing in quality until hard frost. Many of these bushes have wintered comfortably and on being pruned to within three inches of the ground have lasted many years.

As to the varieties so treated, that is a secondary consideration, for under these circumstances you must take what the florist has to offer, which will of course be those most suitable to the winter market. I have used Perle des Jardins, Catherine Mermet, Bride and Bridesmaid, Safrano, Souvenir d'un Ami, and Bon Silene (the rose for button-hole buds) with equal success, though a very intelligent grower affirms that both Bride and Bridesmaid are unsatisfactory as outdoor roses.

I do not say that the individual flowers from these bushes bear relation to the perfect specimens of greenhouse growth in anything but fragrance, but in this way I have roses all the autumn, "by the fistful," as Timothy Saunders's Scotch appreciation of values puts it, though his spouse, Martha Corkle, whose home memories are usually expanded by the perspective of time and absence, in this case speaks truly when she says on receiving a handful, "Yes, Mrs. Evan, they're nice and sweetish and I thank you kindly, but, ma'am, they couldn't stand in it with those that grows as free as corn poppies round the four-shillin'-a-week cottages out Gloucester way, and no disrespec' intended."

The working season of the rose garden begins the first of April with the cutting out of dead wood and the shortening and shaping of last year's growth. With hardy roses the flowers come from fresh twigs on old growth. I never prune in the autumn, because winter always kills a bit of the top and cutting opens the tubular stem to the weather and induces decay. Pruning is a science in itself, to be learned by experience. This is the formula that I once wrote on a slate and kept in my attic desk with my first Boke of the Garden.

April 1. Uncover bushes, prune, and have the winter mulch thoroughly dug in. Place stakes in the centre of bushes that you know from experience will need them. Re-tie climbers that have broken away from supports, but not too tightly; let some sprays swing and arch in their own way.

May. As soon as the foliage begins to appear, spray with whale-oil soap lotion mixed hot and let cool: strength--a bit the size of a walnut to a gallon of water. Do this every two weeks until the rosebuds show decided colour, then stop. This is to keep the rose Aphis at bay, the little soft green fly that is as succulent as the sap upon which it feeds.

If the spring is damp and mildew appears, dust with sulphur flower in a small bellows.

June. The Rose Hopper or Thrip, an active little pale yellow, transparent-winged insect that clings to the under side of the leaf, will now come if the weather is dry; dislodged easily by shaking, it immediately returns. Remedy, spraying leaves from underneath with water and applying powdered helebore with a bellows.

If Black Spot, a rather recent nuisance, appears on the leaves, spray with Bordeaux Mixture, bought of a horticultural dealer, directions accompanying.

Meanwhile the leaf worm is sure to put in appearance. This is also transparent and either brownish green, or yellow, seemingly according to the leaves upon which it feeds. Remedy, if they won't yield to helebore (and they seldom do unless very sickly), brush them off into a cup. An old shaving brush is good for this purpose, as it is close set but too soft to scrape the leaf.

June 15. When the roses are in bloom, stop all insecticides. There is such a thing as the cure being worse than the disease, and a rose garden redolent of whale-oil soap and phosphates and encrusted with helebore and Bordeaux Mixture has a painful suggestion of a horticultural hospital.

Now is the time for the Rose Chafer, a dull brownish beetle about half an inch long, who times his coming up out of the ground to feast upon the most fragrant and luscious roses. These hunt in couples and are wholly obnoxious. Picking into a fruit jar with a little kerosene in the bottom is the only way to kill them. In one day last season Evan came to my rescue and filled a quart jar in two hours; they are so fat and spunky they may be considered as the big game among garden bugs, and their catching, if not carried to an extreme, in the light of sport.

July. See that all dead flowers are cut off and no petals allowed to mould on the ground. Mulch with short grass during hot, dry weather, and use liquid manure upon hybrid teas and teas every two weeks, immediately after watering or a rain. Never, at any season, allow a rose to wither on the bush!

August. The same, keeping on the watch for all previous insects but the rose beetle; this will have left. Mulch hybrid perpetuals if a dry season, and give liquid manure for the second blooming.

September. Stir the ground after heavy rains, and watch for tendencies of mould.

October. The same.

November. Begin to draw the soil about roots soon after black frost, and bank up before the ground freezes, but do not add straw, litter, or manure in the trenches until the ground is actually frozen, which will be from December first onward, except in the case of teas, which should be covered gradually until the top is reached.

By this you will judge, Mary Penrose, that a rosary has its labours, as well as pleasures, and that like all other joys it is accompanied by difficulties. Yet you can grow good roses if you will, but the difficulty is that most people won't. I think, by the way, that remark belongs to Dean Hole of fragrant rose-garden memory, and of a truth he has said all that is likely to be spoken or written about the rose on the side of both knowledge and human fancy for many a day.

Modern roses of the hybrid-perpetual and hybrid-tea types may be bought of several reliable dealers for twenty-five dollars per hundred, in two conditions, either grown on their own roots or budded on Manette or brier stock. Personally I prefer the first or natural condition, if the constitution of the plant is sufficiently vigorous to warrant it. There are, however, many indispensable varieties that do better for the infusion of vigorous brier blood. A budded rose will show the junction by a little knob where the bud was inserted; this must be planted at least three inches below ground so that new shoots will be encouraged to spring from above the bud, as those below are merely wild, worthless suckers, to be removed as soon as they appear.

How can you tell wild suckers from the desired growth? At first by following them back to the root until you have taken their measure, but as soon as experience has enlightened you they will be as easily recognized at sight as the mongrel dog by a connoisseur. Many admirable varieties, like Jacqueminot, Anne de Diesbach, Alfred Colomb, Madame Plantier, and all the climbers, do so well on their own roots that it is foolish to take the risk of budded plants, the worse side of which is a tendency to decay at the point of juncture. Tea roses, being of rapid growth and flowering wholly upon new wood, are perfectly satisfactory when rooted from cuttings.

Of many well-attested varieties of hybrid perpetuals, hybrid China, or other so-called June roses, you may at the start safely select from the following twenty.

Pink, of various shades

1. Anne de Diesbach. One of the most fragrant, hardy, and altogether satisfactory of hybrid perpetual roses. Forms a large bush, covered with large deep carmine-pink flowers. Should be grown on own root. 2. Paul Neyron. Rose pink, of large size, handsome even when fully open. Fragrant and hardy. 3. Cabbage, or Rose The Provence rose of history and old of 100 Leaves. gardens, supposed to have been known to Pliny. Rich pink, full, fragrant, and hardy. Own roots. 4. Magna Charta. A fine fragrant pink rose of the hybrid China type. Not seen as often as it should be. Own roots. 5. Clio. A vigorous grower with flesh-coloured and pink-shaded blossoms. 6. Oakmont. Exquisite deep rose, fragrant, vigorous, and with a long blooming season.

White

7. Marchioness of Free, full, and fragrant. Immense Londonderry. cream-white flowers, carried on long stems. Very beautiful. 8. Madame Plantier A medium-sized, pure white rose, (Hybrid China). with creamy centre; flowers so profusely as to appear to be in clusters. Delicately fragrant, leaves deep green and remarkably free from blights. Perfectly hardy; forms so large a bush in time that it should be placed in the rose shrubbery rather than amid smaller species. 9. Margaret Dickson. A splendid, finely formed, fragrant white rose, with deep green foliage. 10. Coquette des Blanches. One of the very hardy white roses, an occasional pink streak tinting the outside petals. Cup-shaped and a profuse bloomer. 11. Coquette des Alps. A very hardy bush, coming into bloom rather later than the former and lasting well. Satisfactory.

Red and Crimson

12. General Jacqueminot. Bright velvety crimson. The established favourite of its colour and class, though fashion has in some measure pushed it aside for newer varieties. May be grown to a large shrub. Fragrant and hardy. Best when in bud, as it opens rather flat. 13. Alfred Colomb. Bright crimson. Full, sweet. A vigorous grower and entirely satisfactory. If you can grow but one red rose, take this. 14. Fisher Holmes. A seedling of Jacqueminot, but of the darkest velvety crimson; fragrant, and blooms very early. 15. Marshal P. Wilder. Also a seedling of Jacqueminot. Vigorous and of well-set foliage. Full, large flowers of a bright cherry red. Very fragrant. 16. Marie Bauman. A crimson rose of delicious fragrance and lovely shape. This does best when budded on brier or Manette stock, and needs petting and a diet of liquid manure, but it will repay the trouble. 17. Jules Margottin. A fine, old-fashioned, rich red rose, fragrant, and while humble in its demands, well repays liberal feeding. 18. John Hopper. A splendid, early crimson rose, fragrant and easily cared for. 19. Prince Camille de Rohan. The peer of dark red roses, not large, but rich in fragrance and of deep colour. 20. Ulrich Brunner. One of the best out-of-door roses, hardy, carries its bright cerise flowers well, which are of good shape and substance; has few diseases.