Part 34

That the fire-blight is, to any considerable extent anywhere, but especially at the West, occasioned by an insect, is an idea, we believe, totally unsupported by facts. That some injury has been done by the _scolytus pyri_, the investigations of Mr. Lowell and Professor Peck leave no room to doubt. But we are not satisfied that, even in these cases, they were the cause of the _blight_, but only an accidental concomitant. Did Mr. Lowell or Professor Peck _always_ find this beetle upon blighted trees? Was it found in _every_ blighted limb? Did not blight occur without these insects? Has any one of New England _since_ found the blight to proceed from the gnawings of this beetle?

Has any one found this beetle _before_ the blight occurred at its mischievous work, or is it only _after_ the blight is seen that the beetle is found? If the _scolytus pyri_ has been _found_ only after the tree is thoroughly affected, there is reason to suppose that it did not _come_ until after the disease had prepared the way for it.

We are seriously skeptical of this alleged cause. Whatever may be true of the blight at the East, the blight in the West is unquestionably not an effect of the _scolytus pyri_. We have examined with the utmost pains, multitudes of trees in all soils—several of our shrewdest nurserymen have searched year by year, and we have, unfortunately, had too much opportunity and too many subjects, and yet no insect or insect-track has been detected, except those which have attacked the tree in _consequence_ of the blight.

To be sure, we can find bugs, black, brown, green and grey, but the mere presence of an insect is nothing, though with many, it seems enough, when a tree is blighted, if a bug is found on it, to determine the parentage of the mischief. Nor do the published accounts of insects, found on blighted trees, increase our respect for this theory. The observations seem to have been not thorough enough, and not carefully made, and the reasonings even less philosophical. Men have searched for a theory rather than for the mere facts in the case. But by far the greatest number of those who write, give no evidence of relying upon any observations which they have themselves made, but go back perpetually to the old precedents, Mr. Lowell and Professor Peck, without being at any pains to verify them, Has Dr. Kirtland ever found the _scolytus pyri_? Has he ever, in time of extensive blight, found it under such circumstances as to satisfy his mind that it was the real cause of fire-blight? or does he rest satisfied that blight is occasioned by an insect simply because so it is set down in good books? The canker may be mistaken for blight by those who have not been acquainted with either; but surely, no one who has ever attentively examined one real case of fire-blight, would ever mistake it for anything else, or anything else for it.

The insect theory we regard as wholly untenable except for special, local, peculiar ravages which are not properly _blights_. The blight is a disease of the _circulation_. It affects every tissue of the plant. It is not a disease from exhaustion of sap by the suction of aphides, as Dr. Mosher, of Cincinnati, supposed, for the trees have a plethora rather than scarcity of sap; it lacerates the sap-vessels, bursts the bark, flows down the branches, and dries in globules upon the trunk. On cutting the tree, if the blight is yet new, the texture of the alburnum will be found to resemble what is called a _water-core_ in the apple, its color is of a dirty greenish hue, soon changing by exposure to brown and black. But if the blight is old, the wood is of a dingy white, the alburnum colored like iron rust, and the bark of a brownish black. These appearances are incompatible with any idea of exhaustion by the gnawing of the _scolytus pyri_, or the suction of aphides, which would result in mere shrinking of parts, dryness and death. If insects have a hand in the mischief, it is by the secretion of poison, of which fact, we have never seen the trace of proof, although it has often been suggested, and is by some empyrically asserted. To our minds the insect-poison-theory is imaginary. It is entirely convenient to refer every excrescence, or shrinking of parts, every watery suffusion, wart, discoloration, crumpling leaf, wilting, etc., to poison, and still more convenient to find the insect so atomic that it cannot _be_ found, and thus to heap the multiform sins of the orchard on the scape-goat of a hypothetical insect.

As to electricity, as no one knows anything about this elemental sprite, his out-goings or in-comings, we are like to have acted over again all the caprices of witch-times, when elves and gnomes cut up every prank imaginable, and when any prank, which was cut up, of course was performed by them. Everybody is agog about electricity. But we respectfully suggest that it is one thing to ascertain facts by cautious, guarded experiments or careful observation, and quite another to set down everything, which one does not know what else to do with, to electricity, simply because _it may be so for aught that we know to the contrary_. People reason somewhat in this wise; electricity performs a vast number of very mysterious operations, therefore, every operation which is mysterious is performed by electricity. We believe electricity to have something to do with it, only because it seems to have concern with every living, growing thing.

We believe that the blight is, in all cases, the effect of frost upon the sap. We have, until recently, supposed it to arise from autumnal freezing, while the tree is in full growth. We are now inclined to suppose that severe freezing and sudden thawing at any time, autumn, winter or spring, _when the sap is in motion_, will result in blight. The blight of 1844 was from the freezing of growing trees in the autumn of 1843, and the premonitory stages were clearly discernible in the tree during the whole winter months before it broke out in its last malignant form.

When a warm winter allows continuous motion of sap, and sudden, severe freezing with rapid thawing occurs, we _suppose_ it to cause a variety of blight. We are making investigations on this head, but are not yet prepared to speak with certainty.

When a sudden violent freezing overtakes growing trees in spring, with rapid thaws, it, we suppose, results in a blight resembling the autumn-caused blight.

We are diligently searching into this whole matter, and hope to throw some light upon it.

But now comes _the_ question. What is it that makes some trees so obnoxious to this evil while others escape? Why are some orchards generally affected, and contiguous orchards entirely saved?

It is very plain that the blight occurs, as a general disease, in some seasons more than in others, because it depends upon the peculiar condition of the season, the time and degree of frosts. But it does not seem so clear why, when these conditions are favorable to blight, one tree should suffer, and the next in the row should not; why one orchard should be depopulated, and another in the same town not touched.

We think that light will be afforded on this point by a consideration of the _texture_ of trees.

When trees are rapidly grown by stimulating manures, or upon strong clay loams, or from any other cause, the wood is coarse, the passages enlarged, the tissue loose and spongy. The tree passes a great volume of sap—it is but imperfectly elaborated (as is seen by the late period to which such trees defer the bearing of fruit), and the tissues formed by it are correspondingly imperfect in wholesomeness, compactness, and solidity of parts. The tree is bloated—is dropsical.

On gravelly soils, or loams with a gravelly subsoil, or on any kind of soil, which gives a slow and thorough growth, the wood is fine, close and perfect; the vessels are not expanded, their sides are firmer, less sensitive to sudden changes of temperature, and when exposed to them better able to resist them.

Whatever soil produces rank or coarse wood, a flabby tissue will be subject to blights. Whatever soil induces a fine-grained, compact fibre, and vigorous tissue, will be free from blight. The same is true of the various methods of cultivation; those who drive their trees, who aim chiefly at a rapid and strong growth, will give their trees a condition requisite for blight. Those who pursue a more cautious, a slower method, and look to the _quality_ rather than the _quantity_ of their wood, will be comparatively free from blight.

To be sure, there may be seasons so extreme that blight will occur in the most healthy tree; so disease will occur in the most temperate men; yet temperance, conformity to the laws of nature, is the rule of health, and nonconformity the preparation for disease.

Meanwhile, will those who are unfortunate enough to have a good opportunity for observing, examine—

1. The soil and subsoil of blighted trees?

2. The habit of the tree, as to rankness of growth?

3. The character of the cultivation which has been employed?

4. In short, the relative condition of orchards and trees which have escaped or been blighted, as to fineness and closeness, and health of texture. It is high time that this matter should be minutely investigated. It is the _opprobrium cultorum_.

APPLES FOR HOGS.

Farmers are afraid of sour apples; if stock have _only_ sour fruit they are injured; but let both sweet and sour grow in the orchard, and experience has determined that they will, of themselves, eat the due proportion of each. Cattle and hogs are as fond of variety in fruit as men are. In raising potatoes, pumpkins, apples, etc., for animals, it is frequently supposed that the larger and ranker the growth the better; that, at any rate, cattle fare as well on coarse-grained vegetables as on others. But a rank, coarse, watery vegetable is no better for an ox than for a man. The nutritious principle is the same to man or beast. A fine-fleshed, highly nutritious apple or potato is as much better for stock as it is for man. If a variety is not fit for men, it is not worth while to cultivate it at all. Cattle show themselves to be of this opinion when left to range; they avoid coarse, rough herbage, and pick the sweetest and highest flavored. Let the _best_ sorts of apples be planted for stock. If one has a seedling orchard which it would be worth while to graft over for human use, let not its poor, miserable fruit be fed to hogs; let it be grafted over even if one means to use it for stock.

* * * * *

PULLING OFF POTATO FLOWERS.—The man who makes his potato-ground feed flowers, prevents it feeding his children. Every ounce of matter consumed by the flowers is so much taken from the consumption of the family.

* * * * *

To restore an exhausted, or rather tired field, it should be sown in grass, and stock fed upon it during the winter months. Hogs fattened upon tired land enrich it very much.

THE FLOWER GARDEN.

SPRING FLOWERING BULBS.—When crocus, hyacinths, narcissus, tulips, have done flowering, let the seed stalks be cut down, as the ripening of the seed severely taxes and exhausts the powers of a plant. Some persons are accustomed, after the bulbs have flowered, to cut off the tops, as if to do the most mischief possible. The success of the next year’s flowering will depend very much on the care given to your beds now. Many bulbs, as the tulip, form entirely new bulbs; and others, as the hyacinth, form the flower bud for the next season. The _leaf_ is the indispensable means of doing this; in it are perfected the juices which are returned and deposited in the root. If the bed is left to be choked with weeds, and your bulbs robbed of nutriment, or if the soil is left compact, or if there is too much moisture, or on the other hand, too little, the bud or bulb for the next year will be weakened. A very deep bed, or a sandy soil, will sufficiently prevent the effects of too much water.

The surface should be mellowed by the hand, and thoroughly weeded. The _most_ careful cultivators raise their bulbs every year. The _careful_ at least every third year. The _careless_ let them alone and wonder, from year to year, why their bulbs do so poorly—“The moles must eat them, or, worms probably injure them;” but the worst worm in a flower-garden is careless indolence. When bulbs are raised, it should not be done until the leaves are dry.

GLADIOLUS.—We are surprised that this fine soldier-like plant is not more extensively employed to adorn gardens, yards, and lawns. A few varieties only are found in our gardens. Great attention has been given in Europe, especially in Belgium, to raising new varieties, and many magnificent kinds are now found in European collections which, so far as we know, are not to be had for love or money in America. The bulb, or rather corm,[17] increases very rapidly, and by a little attention one may obtain from a few, a very large supply. They may be planted with good effect in rows, in clumps, and in beds, but not singly. A sandy loam, well mixed with leaf-mold, is their delight. We usually remove the top soil, and then take out and reject about twelve inches of the subsoil, making in all about twenty inches depth; return the top earth, together with enough compost of leaf-mold, sand, and thoroughly decayed manure, to fill it; plant about four inches deep, measuring from the top of the corm. When your plants are growing, examine every day; if you see a sawdust-like matter about them, they need attention. On searching, a perforation will be found in the stem. With a penknife slit the stem down from the hole until you reach the worm which caused the mischief. If this course is not properly pursued, you will lose stem and root. With a thin strip of bass matting, or a bit of green ribbon, the stem may be tied and fastened to a rod for support. In door-yards, and in the scanty grounds of city yards, clumps of ten or fifteen gladioli would have a very beautiful appearance, especially if different varieties, instead of being mixed, should be planted in separate but contiguous patches.

TUBEROSE.—The beauty of its pure, white florets, but especially the delightful odor of this fragrant flower, has rendered it a favorite wherever it is known. It is very tender to frost, and must not be planted out until about the first of May. It is to be treated like the gladiolus. Its effect is heightened by being put in a half shade, where its pure white is relieved by a green background. The flower stem rises from two to three feet and requires a rod to sustain it. The fragrance is so powerful that a few plants will, at evening, scent a whole garden; a circumstance well known to owners of pleasure gardens, who render their grounds very delightful by dispersing these, and other odoriferous flowers, in various parts of their grounds, thus loading the dewy evening air with delicious perfume. They may be planted in tea-inch pots and sunk in the ground until they have begun to blossom, when the pots may be raised and conveyed to the parlor or veranda. A single plant will sometimes make a room disagreeable by its excessive odor.

The roots are imported to England from Italy, as that climate is too humid and cool too perfect them for flowering. But, in our soil and climate, we have found no difficulty in raising, from off-sets, the finest possible bulbs. No yard or garden should be without tuberoses.

PLANTS IN POTS.—It is better when one has ground at hand, to turn out plants which have been housed through the winter into the open garden. Roses, geraniums, azaleas, cape jasmins, fuchsias, etc., will be wonderfully invigorated by such treatment. The tea and Bengal roses can hardly be brought to perfection in pots, and those who have only seen the penurious growth and diminished and sparse blossoms in the parlor have no idea of the beauty of these roses. We usually excavate a place two feet square and two feet deep for each rose, filling it with sandy loam very highly enriched with leaf-mold and decayed manure. The trouble will be repaid four fold; for nature has never made a plant that forgets to be grateful for attention.

In turning out plants, put the left hand in such a way upon the top as that the stem shall come between the second and third finger, then invert the pot and give the bottom of it two or three sharp raps, when the pot will come off. If the plant is in a lively, growing state, and the outside of the ball of earth is covered with fine, white, new roots, it will be best to put the ball into the ground without disturbing the roots at all. But if the plant is not growing, the earth may be carefully worked out from the roots with the hands, taking care to break the fibres as little as possible. Spread out the roots as much as possible in every direction, and cover with fine earth.

Rose bushes will need attention soon, as worms and bugs begin their depredations. When the number of bushes is limited, hand-picking every day or two is best. For a large collection one must resort to more general methods. Drench your shrubs, which aphides and worms infest, with soapsuds, made of two pounds of _whale-oil_ soap to fifteen gallons of water. This is by far the most efficacious—the only efficacious—course for destroying insects.

As flower-seeds come up, see that they are well weeded, and if crowded, thin them out. We would recommend the cultivation of some old-fashioned flowers. Nothing is more showy than a bed of poppies of mixed colors. Holyhocks are becoming very great favorites, and we saw recently flowers as magnificent, and as well worth having, as any dahlia. The varieties of lupine should be sought for, and for those who have seen nothing but the white and blue lupines we make an extract from Mrs. Loudon’s “Companion to the Flower Garden”—an admirable work, which, though professedly written for ladies, may be used with profit by everybody who cultivates a garden.

“LUPINUS.—_Leguminosæ._—The Lupine. A genus of herbaceous annuals and perennials which contain some of our most beautiful border flowers: yellow, blue, white, and pink lupines are among the oldest border annuals; _L. nanus_ is a beautiful little annual, with dark blue flowers, a native of California, and requiring the usual treatment of California annuals. _L. mutabilis_ and _Cruicshankii_ are splendid plants, growing to the height of four or five feet, and branching like miniature trees. _L. Polyphyllus_ and its varieties are perennials, and they are splendid and vigorous-growing plants, with spikes of flowers from one foot to eighteen inches in length; _L. nootkatensis_ is a handsome dwarf perennial, and _L. arboreus_, when trained against a wall, will attain six feet in height, and in sheltered situations it will grow with equal vigor trained as a bush tied to a stake; _L. latifolius_ is a perennial from California, with very long spikes of blue flowers. All the species will thrive in common garden soil; the annuals are propagated by seed sown in February or March, and the perennials by division of the roots.”

[17] Bulbs are of two kinds: those which have a number of coats, or skins, one within the other, like the hyacinth, which are called tunicated bulbs; those which consist of a number of scales, only attached to the base, like the lily; but what are called corms, are only a solid mass of feculent matter, and which modern botanists do not allow to be bulbs, but call underground stems. Corms do not require taking up so often as bulbs; and when they are intended to remain for several years in the ground, they should be planted from four to six inches deep at first; as every year a new corm will form above the old one; and thus, if planted too near the surface, the corm, in a few years, will be pushed out of the ground.—_Loudon._

PREPARATION OF SEED FOR SOWING.

Many persons suppose that when seeds have been selected, nothing is necessary but to put them into the ground just as they are. A careful preparation of seed, both for field or garden use, will add much to the success of a planting.

1. ASSORTING SEEDS.—In every lot of seed there are many imperfect ones; some are insectiferous, some are unripe, some are the extreme terminal seeds, small and weak, some are very often a little moldy. In some way all defective seeds should be removed.

Then it should be remembered, that the soundest and largest seeds will produce plants of a corresponding vigor, and that by planting only the healthiest, the variety is kept pure—or even improved.

For garden use hand picking will suffice. We pour our corn on a table, and select only the kernels which are plump and large, rejecting any which show an intermixture of other varieties. Beet seed requires careful winnowing, nearly one-fourth, as they are usually sold, being unfit for planting. Peas are more uniform in size and quality, and require but little selection. Melons, squashes, and cucumbers should be culled, or better yet, be put into water; only those which sink promptly should be used, the swimming and floating ones being light and trashy. Beans are apt to be imperfect. We have usually found occasion to reject full one-third of every quart, for seedsmen are apt to put in every seed that grows, whether they will ever grow again or not. There is no dishonesty certainly in this; but if one would habitually screen or select, and put, up only the very choicest, he would ultimately get a higher price, and secure for his seed a universal demand.

2. SOAKING SEEDS.—Some seeds will not germinate for a long period, unless they are artificially brought forward. Locust seeds are _scalded_ before planting. Peas are scalded to kill the bug, when thus inhabited. The cypress vine seed require soaking to induce a quick germination. Celery seed is very sluggish unless soaked.

Seeds are often steeped in _prepared_ liquids to force their growth. Old seeds, whose powers of germination are much diminished, are made to vegetate by being put into a weak solution of oxalic acid. Wheat is _pickled_ in salt brine, then rolled in lime, as a preventive of _smut_.

Corn is protected from worms by copperas water; and peas are put into train oil to guard them from moles and mice. Tanner’s oil, and a solution of saltpetre are often used; the first for turnip-seed, to protect them from a destructive insect; and the latter for all seeds, as a stimulant to their growth and to guard against worms and bugs.

Some excitement was made in Scotland, not long ago, by the great effects alleged to have been produced by so preparing seeds that they would contain in or on themselves all those fertilizing qualities usually looked for in the soil. It is possible, by employing chemical mixtures, or coatings, to make the seed germinate with great vigor, and to establish itself strongly; but we do not suppose any process can be made to reach beyond this. No mere soaking or coating can extend its influence through the whole growth of the crop.

When seeds are soaked they anticipate the weeds in coming up, especially seeds planted in May and June, and this is a very important object, as crops are, often, almost smothered with weeds before they are large enough to be weeded.

SOWING FLOWER SEEDS—TRANSPLANTING.

Many flower-seeds require no more skill in planting than do peas or beans, for they are as large and as easily germinated. But very many are small, and some extremely small, and if planted too deeply, they will not shoot, or will shoot very feebly.