Chapter 8

The Rugosa Roses are more valuable as shrubs than as flowering plants, though their large, bright, single flowers are extremely attractive. Their chief attraction is their beautifully crinkled foliage, of a rich green, and their bright crimson fruit which is retained throughout the season. This class gives flowers, at intervals, from June to October.

Hybrid Perpetuals must be given special treatment in order to secure flowers from them throughout the season. Their blossoms are always produced on new growth, therefore, if you would keep them producing flowers, you must keep them growing. This is done by feeding the plant liberally, and cutting back the branches upon which flowers have been produced to a strong bud from which a new branch can be developed. In this way we keep the plant constantly renewing itself, and in the process of renewal we are likely to get a good many flowers where we would get few, or none, if we were to let the plant take care of itself. The term "perpetual" is, however, a misleading one, as it suggests a constant production of flowers. Most varieties of this class, as has been said, will bloom occasionally, after the first generous crop of the season, but never very freely, and often not at all unless the treatment outlined above is carefully followed. But so beautiful are the Roses of this class that one fine flower is worth a score of ordinary blossoms, and the lover of the Rose will willingly devote a good deal of time and labor to the production of it.

The Ramblers, now so popular, constitute a class by themselves, in many respects. They are of wonderfully vigorous habit, have a score or more of flowers where others have but one bloom early in the season, and give a wonderful show of color. The individual blossoms are too small to please the critical Rose-grower, but there are so many in each cluster, and these clusters are so numerous, that the general effect is most charming. Crimson Rambler is too well known to need description. The variety that deserves a place at the very head of the list, allowing me to be judge, is Dorothy Perkins. This variety is of slenderer growth than Crimson Rambler, therefore of more vine-like habit, and, on this account, better adapted to use about porches and verandas, where it can be trained along the cornice in a graceful fashion that the stiff-branched Crimson Rambler will not admit of. Its foliage is not so large as that of the other variety named, but it is much more attractive, being finely cut, and having a glossy surface that adds much to the beauty of the plant. But the chief charm of the plant is its soft pink flowers, dainty and delicate in the extreme. These are produced in long, loose sprays instead of crowded clusters, thus making the effect of a plant in full bloom vastly more graceful than that of any of the others of the class.

Roses have their enemies, and it would seem as if there must be some sort of understanding among them as to the date of attack, because nearly all of them put in an appearance at about the same time. The aphis I find no difficulty in keeping down by the use of Nicoticide--a very strongly concentrated extract of the nicotine principle of tobacco. This should be diluted with water, as directed on the cans or bottles in which it is put up, and applied to all parts of the bush with a sprayer. Do not wait for the aphis to appear before beginning warfare against him. You can count on his coming, therefore it is well to act on the offensive, instead of the defensive, for it is an easier matter to keep him away altogether than it is to get rid of him after he has taken possession of your bushes. If he finds the tang of Nicoticide clinging to the foliage on his arrival, he will speedily conclude that it will be made extremely uncomfortable for him, if he decides to locate, and he will look for more congenial quarters elsewhere.

For the worm that does so much injury to our plants at the time when they are just getting ready to bloom, I use an emulsion made by adding two quarts kerosene to one part of laundry soap. The soap should be reduced to a liquid, and allowed to become very hot, before the oil is added. Then agitate the two rapidly and forcibly until they unite in a jelly-like substance. The easiest and quickest way to secure an emulsion is by using a brass syringe such as florists sprinkle their plants with. Insert it in the vessel containing the oil and soap, and draw into it as much of the liquids as it will contain, and then expel them with as much force as possible, and continue to do this until the desired union has taken place. Use one part of the emulsion to eight or ten parts water, and make sure it reaches every portion of the bush.

In Rose-culture, as in every branch of floriculture, the price of success is constant vigilance. If you do not get the start of insect enemies, and keep them under control, they will almost invariably ruin your crop of flowers, and often the bushes themselves. Therefore be thorough and persistent in the warfare waged against the common enemy, and do not relax your efforts until he is routed.

In making a selection of Hybrid Perpetuals for home planting, the amateur finds it difficult to choose from the long lists sent out by many dealers. He wants the best and most representative of the class, but he doesn't know which these are. If I were asked to select a dozen kinds, my choice would be the following:

Alfred Colomb. Bright crimson. Fragrant.

Anna de Diesbach. Carmine. Fragrant.

Baroness Rothschild. Soft pink.

Captain Hayward. Deep rose. Perfect in form.

Frau Carl Druschki. Pure white.

General Jacqueminot. Brilliant crimson. Very sweet.

Jules Margottin. Rosy crimson.

Mabel Morrison. White, delicately shaded with blush.

Magna Charta. Glowing carmine. A lovely flower.

Madame Gabriel de Luizet. Delicate pink. Exquisite.

Mrs. John Laing. Soft pink. Very fragrant.

Ulrich Brunner. Bright cherry red.

To increase the above list would be to duplicate colors, for nearly all the other kinds included in the dealers' lists are variations of the distinctive qualities of the above. The twelve named will give you more pleasure than a larger number of less distinctive kinds would, for in each merit stands out pre-eminent, and all the best qualities of the best Roses are represented in the list.

THE ROSE AS A SUMMER BEDDER

The amateur gardener may enjoy Roses from June to November if he is willing to take a little trouble for them. Not, however, with the material treated of in the chapter on "The Rose"--though what is said in it relative to the culture of the Hybrid Perpetual class applies with considerable pertinence to the classes of which I shall make special mention in this chapter--but with the summer-blooming sorts, such as the Teas, the Bengals, the Bourbons, and the Noisettes. These are classed in the catalogues as ever-bloomers, and the term is much more appropriate to them than the term Hybrid Perpetual is to that section of the great Rose family, for all of the four classes named above _are_ really ever-bloomers if given the right kind of treatment--that is, bloomers throughout the summer season. In them we find material from which it is easy to secure a constant supply of flowers from the beginning of summer to the closing in of winter.

In order to grow this class of Roses well, one must understand something of their habits. They send out strong branches from the base of the plant, shortly after planting, and these branches will generally bear from five to eight blossoms. When all the buds on the branch have developed into flowers, nothing more can be expected from that branch in the way of bloom, unless it can be coaxed to send out other branches. This it can be prevailed on to do by close pruning. Cut the old branch back to some point along its length--preferably near its base--where there is a strong "eye" or bud. If the soil is rich--and it can hardly be _too rich_, for these Roses, like those of the kinds treated of in the foregoing chapter, require strong food and a great deal of it in order to do themselves justice--this bud will soon develop into a vigorous branch which, like the original one, will bear a cluster of flowers. In order to keep a succession of bloom it is absolutely necessary to keep the plant producing new branches, as flowers are only borne on new growth. It will be noticed that the treatment required by these Roses is almost identical, so far, with that advised for the Hybrid Perpetuals. Indeed, the latter are summer ever-bloomers of a stronger habit than the class I am now speaking about. That is about all the difference there is between them, up to this point, except as regards the flowering habit. The Hybrid Perpetual blooms profusely in June and July, but sparingly thereafter, while the ever-bloomers bloom freely all the season after they get a good start.

Fertilizer should be applied at least once a month. Not in large quantities, each time, but enough to stimulate a strong and healthy growth. The plants should be kept going ahead constantly. Let them get a check, and you will find it a difficult matter to get many flowers from them after that, the same season. Give them the treatment that results in continuous growth and you will have Roses in abundance up to the coming of cold weather. Of course plants so treated are not to be expected to attain much size. But who cares for large bushes if he can have fine flowers and plenty of them?

The blossoms from the Teas and their kindred are never as large as those of the June and the Hybrid Perpetual classes, and, as a general thing, are not as brilliant in color. Some are delightfully fragrant, while some have no fragrance at all.

La France,--which is classed as a Hybrid Tea, because it is the result of hybridizing one of the hardier varieties with a pure-blooded Tea variety,--is one of the finest Roses ever grown. It is large, and fine in form, rich, though not brilliant, in color, is a very free bloomer, and its fragrance is indescribably sweet. Indeed, all the sweetness of the entire Rose family seems concentrated in its peculiar, powerful, but, at the same time, delicate odor. Color, pale pink.

Duchess de Brabant is an old variety, popular years and years ago, but all the better for that, for its long-continued popularity proves it the possessor of exceptional merit. It is of very free development, and bears large quantities of flowers of silvery pink.

Viscountess Folkestone is, like La France, a Hybrid Tea. It is an excellent bloomer. Its color is a soft pink, shaded with cream, with reflexed petals. It has a rich, June-Rose fragrance.

Maman Cochet is, all things considered, one of the best of its class. It blooms in wonderful profusion. It is a strong grower. Its color is a bright pink, overlaid with silvery lustre. It is very double, and quite as lovely in bud as in the expanded flower.

Hermosa is an old favorite. It is always in bloom when well cared for. Its rich carmine-rose flowers are very double, and are produced in prodigal profusion. But it lacks the charm of fragrance.

Caprice is a very peculiar variety. Its thick, waxen petals of rosy carmine are heavily blotched and striped with dark red, shading to crimson. It is most pleasing when the flower begins to expand.

Perle des Jardins is a most lovely Rose, of almost as rich a color as the famous Marechal Neil,--a deep, glowing yellow,--lovely beyond description. It is a very free bloomer, and should be given a place in all collections.

Sunset--another good bloomer--is a tawny yellow in color, flamed with fawn and coppery tints. It is an exquisite Rose.

Clothilde Soupert does not properly belong to either of the four classes mentioned above, though of course closely related. It is catalogued as a Polyantha. Its habit is peculiar. It bears enormous quantities of flowers, with the greatest freedom of any Rose I have ever grown, but its blossoms are small, and are produced in clusters quite unlike those of the other members of the ever-blooming class. Indeed, its habit of growth and flowering is quite like that of the Rambler varieties, on a small scale. But, unlike the Ramblers, its flowers are very double. They are produced at the extremity of the new branches, in clusters of fifteen to twenty and thirty. So many are there to each branch that you will find it advisable to thin out half of them if you want perfect flowers. In color it is a delicate pink on first opening, fading to almost white. At the centre of the flower it is a bright carmine. Give this variety a trial and you will be delighted with it.

It must not be understood that the above list includes all the desirable sorts adapted to general culture. It is simply a list of the most distinct varieties that respond satisfactorily to the treatment outlined, and from which the amateur gardener can expect the best results. There are scores of other varieties possessing exceptional merit, but many of them require the attention of the professional in order to give satisfaction, and are not what I feel warranted in recommending the amateur to undertake the culture of if large quantities of flowers are what he has in mind. Every one on the list given is a standard variety, and you will find that you have made no mistake in confining your selection to it.

I would advise the purchase of two-year-old plants. Younger plants seldom bloom with much profusion the first season.

Order your plants in April. Get them into the ground about the middle of May. Mulch the soil about them well. This will do away with the necessity of watering if the season happens to prove a dry one. In planting, be governed by the directions given in the chapter on "The Rose."

Try a bed of these ever-bloomers for a season and you will never afterward be without them. Other flowers will rival them in brilliance, perhaps, and may require less attention, but--they will not be Roses! One fine Rose affords more pleasure to the lover of the best among flowers than a whole garden full of ordinary blossoms can, and this is why I urge all flower-loving people to undertake the culture of the ever-blooming class of Roses, for I know they will give greater satisfaction than anything else you can grow.

In fall, the plants can be taken up, packed away in boxes of earth, and kept in the cellar over winter. Cut away almost the entire top when the plants are lifted. All that one cares to carry through the winter is the root of the plant.

THE DAHLIA

Thirty or forty years ago the Dahlia was one of our popular flowers. That is, popular among those who aspired to "keep up with the times," and grow all the new plants that had real merit in them. At that time but one form of it was considered worth growing, and that was the very double, globular type of flower. The single varieties were looked upon as worthless.

After a time the popularity of the flower waned for some reason hard to account for, except on the theory that there are fashions in flowers as in clothes. I presume that the true explanation is that we Americans are prone to run to extremes, and when we take up a plant and it becomes a favorite we overdo matters and tire of it because we see so much of it. Then we relegate it to the background for a time, and after awhile we drag it out of the obscurity to which we temporarily consigned it as a penalty for its popularity, and straightway it comes into greater prominence than ever, precisely as does the cut of a sleeve or the style of hair-dressing. This explanation may not be very complimentary to American good sense or taste, but I think it goes to the root of the matter. It is sincerely to be hoped that the time will come when our flower-growing will have no trace of the fad about it, and that whatever we cultivate will grow into favor solely because of real merit, and that its popularity will be permanent. I am encouraged to think that such may be the case, for some of the favorite flowers of the day have held their own against all newcomers for a considerable period, and seem to be growing in favor every year. This is as it should be.

It used to be thought that the Dahlia could not be grown successfully at the north if it were not started into growth in the house, or greenhouse, very early in the season. Nine times out of ten the result was a weak, spindling plant by the time it was safe to put it into the ground--which was not until all danger from frost was over. Generally such plants were not strong enough to bloom until about the time frost came in fall, for it took them the greater part of the season to recover from the effect of early forcing, in which the vitality of the plant suffered almost to the point of extinction, and to which was added the ordeal of the change from in- to out-door conditions. "Our seasons are too short for it," was the universal verdict. "At the south it may do well, but there's no use in trying to do anything with it at the north unless one has a greenhouse, and understands the peculiarities of the plant better than the rank and file of flower-loving people can expect to." So it came about that its cultivation was given up by small gardeners, and it was seen only on the grounds of the wealthier people, who could afford the services of the professional gardener.

We have learned, of late years, that our treatment of the plant was almost the opposite of what was required.

Some eight or ten years ago, I ordered a collection of choice varieties of the Dahlia. I ordered them early in the season, expecting to start them into growth in pots as usual. For some reason they did not come until the last day of May. It was then too late to start them in the usual way, and I planted them in the garden, expecting they would amount to nothing.

The result was, to me, a most surprising one.

The place in which I planted them was one whose soil was very rich and mellow. It was near a pump, from which a great deal of water was thrown out every day.

In less than a week after planting, the tubers threw up strong shoots, and these grew very rapidly under the combined effects of rich soil, warmth, and plenty of moisture at the roots. Indeed, they went ahead so rapidly that I considered their growth a discouraging feature, as I felt sure it must be a weak one.

The result was that when the State Horticultural Society held its summer meeting in the village in which I resided, on the twenty-eighth of August, I placed on exhibition some of the finest specimens of Dahlia blossoms the members of the Society had ever seen, and carried off eight first premiums.

Since then I have never attempted to start my Dahlias in the house. I give them an extremely rich soil, spaded up to the depth of at least a foot and a half, and made so mellow that the new roots find it an easy matter to work their way through it. Water is applied freely during the season. I consider this an item of great importance, as I find that the plant fails to make satisfactory development when located in a dry place. A pailful of water a day is not too much to apply to each plant in a dry season.

The soil must be rich. In a poor soil development will be on a par with that of plants which have been given a dry place.

Because of the peculiar brittleness of the stalks of the Dahlia it is quite necessary to furnish them with good support. My plan is to set a stout stake by each plant, at planting-time. This should be at least five feet tall. I put it in place at the time of planting the tuber, because then I know just where the root of the future plant is, and can set the stake without injuring it. But if stake-setting is left until later in the season one runs a risk of breaking off some of the new tubers that have formed about the old one. I tie the main stalk of the plant to the stake with a strip of cloth instead of a string, as the latter will cut into the soft wood. Sometimes, if the plant sends up a good many stalks, it will be necessary to furnish additional support. Unless some kind of support is given we are likely to get up some morning after a heavy rain, or a sudden wind, and find our plants broken down, and in attempting to save them we are pretty sure to complete the wreck, as a slight twist or turn in the wrong direction will snap the stalk off at its junction with the root.

The Dahlia will be found one of our very best plants for use in the border where something is needed for a filler. It is very effective as a hedge, and can be used to great advantage to hide a fence. Single specimens are fine for prominent locations on the grounds about the house. In fact, it is a plant that can be made useful anywhere.

In fall, when our early frosts come, it will be necessary to protect it on cool nights, as it is extremely tender. This can be easily done by setting some stout sticks about the plant and covering it with a sheet. If tided over the frosty weather that usually comes for two or three nights about the middle of September, it will bloom profusely during the weeks of pleasant weather that almost always follow the early frosts, and then is when it will be enjoyed most.

When the frost has killed its stalks, it should be dug and got ready for winter. Lift the great mass of roots that will have grown from the little tuber planted at the beginning of the season, and do this without breaking them apart, if possible. Spread them out in the sun. At night cover with a blanket, and next day expose them to sunshine again. Do this for several days in succession until the soil that is lifted with them will crumble away easily. Exposure to sunshine has the effect of relieving them of a good deal of moisture which they contain in great quantity when first dug, and which ought to be got rid of, in a large degree, before they are stored in the cellar.

The tubers should never be placed on the cellar-bottom, because of the dampness that is generally found there. I spread mine out on shelves of wire netting, suspended four or five feet from the floor. If they show signs of mould I know they are too damp, and elevate the shelves still more, in order to get the tubers into a dryer stratum of air. If they seem to be shrivelling too much, I lower the shelves a little. Cellars differ so much that one can only tell where the right place is by experimenting. Watch your tubers carefully. A little neglect will often result in failure, as mould, once given a chance to secure a foothold, is rapid in its action, and your tubers may be beyond help before you discover that there is anything the matter with them. As soon as you find a mouldy root, throw it out. If left it will speedily communicate its disease to every plant with which it comes in contact. Some persons tell me that they succeed in wintering their Dahlia tubers best by packing them in boxes of perfectly dry sand. If this is done, be sure to elevate the box from the floor of the cellar.

Quite naturally persons have an idea that the best results will be secured by planting out the whole bunch of tubers, in spring. This is a mistake. One good tuber, with an "eye," or growing point, will make a much better plant than the whole bunch set out together.

To sum up the treatment I advise in the cultivation of the Dahlia:

Have the ground very rich.

Have it worked deeply.

Plant single tubers about the first of June.

Furnish a good support.

See that the ground is well supplied with moisture.