Fig. 367. The Snow-drop.
If you were to have a birthday party and should invite as your guests the children from the four corners of the earth, and by magic could bring them to you in a jiffy, the boys and girls from Greenland would come enfolded in seal-skin, and those from Hawaii would bring only their bathing suits. You would have a busy time keeping them comfortable, for when you opened the door to cool off the little Greenlanders, the little Kanakas would complain of too much draft; and at the table the former would ask if you happened to have some tallow candles for dessert, and the latter would ask for bread-fruit and bananas.
Many of our flowering plants have been brought together from such remote quarters as that. We have bulbs from Holland, and pansies from England, and phlox from the dry atmosphere of Texas.
There is as much difference in the conditions necessary for comfort in these different plants as there is in the requirements of the little Eskimos and little Polynesians. To some extent, plants can change their manner of living, but in the main they are happiest when they can have their own way, just as you and I are.
We cannot bring about the foggy, damp weather of Holland and England when we want it; neither can we bring the dry atmosphere of Texas—air so dry that meat will cure hard in the hottest weather without tainting. It so happens, however, that from one Fourth of July to the next we have many kinds of weather, and if one could not find conditions suited to almost any kind of plant it would be strange. If we cannot make the weather accommodate itself to the best comfort of the plant, we must set the plant so as to accommodate itself to the weather.
Pansies from foggy England and bulbs from the lowlands of Holland should be planted to bloom in the cool days of spring, and the phlox from Texas will prosper in the heat and drought of July and August.
With this idea well fixed in your mind, you will easily see that when you know the country from which a plant has come, a knowledge of the physical geography of that country will be helpful in knowing how to make the plant happy and prosperous.
We must also make the plant comfortable in the soil. There is great difference in what plants require to make them comfortable. Some, like thistles or mullein or ragweed, will thrive on almost any soil and are no more exacting as to food than a goat or a mule; but other plants are as notional as children reared in the lap of luxury. As a rule, flowering plants belong to the "lap-of-luxury" class.
Soil covers the land as thin skin covers an apple or as a thin coat of butter covers bread, and it holds more or less plant-food. When men erect school buildings and afterwards grade the ground they usually turn a part of the soil upside down. There is also considerable rubbish of the builders left scattered about, such as brick-bats, chips of stone, and the like, that go to make the place an uncomfortable one for notional plants. For this reason I wish particularly to call your attention to the manner in which you should prepare the ground on which you intend to plant. The first thing to do is to spade the ground thoroughly to the depth of at least ten inches. All stones as large as a big boy's fist should be thrown out, and all lumps given a bat with the back of the spade to break them into fine particles. This is to be a flower-bed and should be soft like your own bed. It would be better to make it up more than once. After the first spading it would be well to cover the bed with a coat of stable fertilizer to a depth of six to eight inches, which will give additional plant-food; and in spading the second time, this fertilizer will become thoroughly mixed with the soil. The surface should next be raked smooth, and your flower-bed will then be ready for planting.