Planting for Color Effects in the Garden.
MRS. H. B. TILLOTSON, MINNEAPOLIS.
The most attractive flower bed in my garden this year has been the one planted for a blue and white effect. From earliest spring, soon after the snow had gone, until now, October 4th, there has been something interesting and beautiful blooming there.
In the middle of the summer it was one tangled mass of lilies, delphinium, phlox and gypsophila, their perfume filling the whole garden. As the lilies faded and the delphinium grew old and went to seed, the old stalks were cut away. The phlox and delphinium bloomed again in a little while, and in September the candidum lilies began to come through the ground, getting ready for next year.
The bed is three feet wide by thirty long, and was covered last winter with loose straw and leaves, with a few cornstalks to hold them in place. Early in April this was raked off and the edges of the bed made straight, for the grass always grows in a little each year. The warm sunshine soon brought out the scilla and crocus, almost carpeting the whole bed. One would not think of the other things hiding under their leaves.
The forget-me-nots began to look green along the edge, and up through the fading crocus and scilla came a few straggling grape hyacinths, blue and white, and one lonely plant of the Virginia cowslip (Mertensia)—more could have been used with good effect, for they too disappear after awhile.
The Virginia cowslip staid in bloom until the forget-me-nots were a mass of blossoms, and the blue Darwin tulips (pink, really, with a blue spot in the bottom of the cup, just back of them) were in all their glory. In the middle of the bed the Madonna lilies, and belladona delphinium had covered the ground with green. In spots the wild violets were in blossom—they had crept in some way from the dirt—I think it had been taken from the woods near by.
Watching each day, for the friends I knew would soon be coming, I found the first shoots of the hardy phlox, which I knew to be G. Von Losburg and Miss Lingard. Double blue bachelor buttons, self sown, were there, some transplanted to fill in the bare spots, and poppies; I didn't know what color they would be, for the wind and the birds had sown the seed; but the leaves were a beautiful grey-green, and I let them grow. I had almost given up the double baby breath (gypsophila paniculata, fl. pl.), but finally it came all the way down the bed, about every five or six feet, between the delphinium and the phlox. There were perhaps a dozen plants of phlox, a dozen of belladona delphinium and six baby breath through the middle of the bed, and on each side a row of the intense blue Chinese delphinium.
Just outside these, and next to the forget-me-nots and tulips, are the bachelor buttons, and, coming through it all, a hundred candidum lilies, their waxy white blossoms glistening in the sunshine, and the perfume so heavy you knew they were there long before you could see them. The poppies, too, were there; they were double, like a peony, rose-pink with a white edge. I was glad I let them grow, for I don't think I ever saw a more beautiful sight.
I let it all grow and bloom as long as it would, hating to touch it for fear of spoiling all. Finally I was obliged to clear away the old stalks, and it looked rather bare for a time. But I brought some white asters from the reserve garden. The Baron Hulot gladoli were soon in bloom. The phlox sent up tiny shoots for new bloom from the base of each leaf, and the second crop of bachelor buttons came along. White schizanthus along the edge, covered up the old forget-me-nots, and funkia lilies (subcordata) threw up their buds. The delphinium all began to bloom again, the grey-green leaves of the baby breath was still there, and soon my bed was all abloom again and staid so the rest of the summer.
But never did it equal the glory of those first ten days of July.