Every Boy's Book: A Complete Encyclopædia of Sports and Amusements

by Unknown

When he was a little pupil about ten years of age, his master planted a walnut-tree to give a grateful shade to a place immediately outside the house. The planting of this walnut-tree was attended with some ceremony, little Rousseau and his friend, a fellow-boarder, acting as godfathers, singing songs of triumph around it. The master and his assistants formed a kind of basin around the tree, or, in other words, made a little embankment of earth around it, so that the water could not escape. Jean Jacques and his companion saw and were much interested in all this, made up their minds that it was a nobler thing to plant trees than to plant colours on a breach, and at once became very anxious to plant. This they soon did by cutting a slip of willow, and planting it with due ceremony on the terrace near the august walnut-tree that had been planted by the master. They made a basin of earth round it in imitation of the bigger one, and then came their grand difficulty—how to water it. They were not permitted to fetch any, or they would have gladly done so, though it was at a distance. The tree was safe for a short time from some cause or other, and began to put forth a few leaves, which they hoped would in due time afford them shelter and shade; but hot days came, and it was apparent that unless the little tree had water it would surely die. What was to be done? Well, it is pretty evident that either of them could think a little, even at that age, for the little rogues made up their minds to make a tiny grass-covered canal between the large basin and their little one, so that when the master came to water his big tree, the water might run from his basin to theirs! Their first essay failed; the earth fell in, and they were miserable for a moment, but soon set to work again. This time they cut an old box into narrow planks, and lined the furrow with them, made the slope so that the water would be sure to run as desired, and covered the trench over so that nobody could see it, putting a grating of twigs over the upper end, so as to hide appearances and keep out rubbish, and waited in hope and fear for the result. The master and his men came and poured in the water, which soon ran through the furrow to the little tree. This was too much for our otherwise sagacious little gardeners. They roared with delight at the success of their plan, and betrayed it to the master, who immediately sent for a pick-axe, and cut up their little trench, shouting at the same time, “An aqueduct! an aqueduct!” They were of course sorry, but soon took heart, and planted another tree, which lived to be a big one. To have set this slip in competition with a large one, Rousseau tells, gave him a degree of glory he had not known before, and says that he had a juster idea of it at that age than Cæsar had at thirty.

We will next turn to the selection of trees, and to the various wants of those who are likely to plant. The most popular trees in England at present are those noble evergreen pines. They are not all suited for town gardening, but very much so for most parts of the country. Around the beautiful mausoleum raised to contain the remains of the late Prince Consort at Frogmore, there is a row of these trees, mostly tapering and slender in habit, and very dark green. They have been planted by the various members of the Royal family in memoriam. The late Prince was very fond of these pine-trees, and many country gentlemen take the greatest interest in their planting. We merely tell you this to point out that the planting of trees is an object of ambition with many of the best and the highest in the land. When Her Majesty, and many other distinguished persons, visit a nobleman’s place or a public park, one of the most graceful acts they can do is to plant a tree; and the custom is very general. Let us hope, then, that many boys will imitate the example of Rousseau, and say, why should not we too plant trees? But to return to our pines, or conifers, as they are called. The race is a wonderfully beautiful one—so much so, that you must take care, or you may plant things that will do very well for a few years, perhaps, but get quite killed by the first very severe frost. It is a sad sight to see a tree which has perhaps grown to considerable size and beauty killed to the very ground by a frost such as we had in January, 1866—some of our noblest pines perished then; and therefore a list of the most thoroughly hardy kinds must prove useful. The giant Wellingtonia of California is fortunately hardy in all parts of these islands. So is the great arbor-vitæ of Nootka Sound (Thuja gigantea), a specimen of which obtained the first prize for trees of this kind at the great Paris Exhibition. One of the most beautiful of all pines, one which has its “leaves,” or little branchlets rather, as graceful as those of a fern, is Thujiopsis borealis, and it too is perfectly hardy. We regret that hard names must be used, but then, as thousands of our plants are not natives of England, they have of course no recognised English name, and to translate the scientific one would simply produce an awkward barbarism. In addition to the above, the following trees of this fine family may be planted with the confidence that we shall not see them perish in the vigour and beauty of youth:—Lawson’s cypress (we give you the English name where possible). Nearly all kinds of juniper. Picea Pinsapo, nobilis, and Nordmanniana, all noble trees—also amabilis and cephalonica. Abies Albertii, Morinda, Menziesii, the Cedar of Lebanon, and the Deodar cedar—these are hurt now and then, but on the whole are hardy enough generally. The common spruce fir; the Scotch fir, always a picturesque tree. The deciduous cypress, a fine tree for the margins of water, where after a time its roots send up most curious knobs, in many cases nearly as big as a beehive, above the ground. It is quite extraordinary to see the specimens of this noble tree in the pleasure grounds at Syon, the Duke of Northumberland’s fine place near Brentford. The new Japanese larch (L. Kæmpferi), the Austrian pine, the Swiss nut pine (P. Cembra), the Corsican pine. The youthful gardener, who lives near a large nursery, park, or place like Kew, Glasnevin Botanic Gardens, near Dublin, the Botanic Gardens at Edinburgh, the gardens of the Crystal Palace, at Sydenham, or many places of this kind, would do well to examine specimens of the kinds named, or indeed any others, so that he may take his choice; making sure to inquire, however, that the particular kind he selects is perfectly hardy: a tree may be quite hardy in one part of the country, and quite tender in another. The curious and fine monkey puzzle (Araucaria imbricata), for instance, has been killed in some parts by severe frosts, in others it has always escaped with impunity. It is always easy to ascertain facts of this kind in a neighbourhood, and of course we should make a point of cultivating the things that are best suited to our climate and soil.

So much for coniferous trees. We will next turn to a far nobler group, so far as regards our wants—deciduous trees, or those that lose their leaves in winter. These are generally quite hardy, and make large and long-lived trees. They may be grown in many places where the pines would not live, and are therefore admirably suited for places in and near towns. They should be preferred by all boys who live in suburban gardens, as in such the leaves of pines and evergreens are sure to be soiled and disfigured, if not half-killed, by smut. Many of these deciduous trees flower beautifully, and in not a few the leaves, even in our dull clime, assume rich and varied tints in autumn. The following list includes the noblest, best, and hardiest known:—The great Columbian maple, the silvery maple (A. eriocarpum), the red maple (A. colchicum rubrum), the Norway maple, the purple-leaved sycamore, and the variegated negundo; the double horse chesnut (the flower of this lasts very much longer than the single kind), the red chesnut, the Hungarian lime-tree, and the Mississippi lime, the tree of heaven (Ailanthus glandulosa), the tulip-tree, the Japanese sophora (a noble tree, fine for dry soils), the Kentucky coffee-tree (not a large tree, but with very graceful leaves), the hawthorns in variety, both red and white. Some of the hawthorns bear handsome fruit, and of such the most distinct is Aronia, Layi, Celsiana and Douglasii. The flowering ash, the showy Chinese Pyrus spectabilis, the American ash, the Canadian ash or lancewood; the Cornish, Chichester, and Irish elms (the last being a tree of large growth) and also most particularly the weeping variety of the wych elm; the black walnut, and the yellow-twigged willow; the silver-leaved poplar, the Carolina poplar, and of course the Lombardy poplar; the splendid western plane, which does so well in towns, the Eastern plane, and the Spanish plane. Lastly, we will name the noble oaks, both the American and our own. The American oaks are among the finest trees of the world. The best of them are Q. ambigua, Prinus, the champion oak, the scarlet oak, the black oak, and the willow oak. Any of these will form long-lived and noble trees.

The preceding remarks and instructions generally apply to the wants of boys whose parents have gardens of some size. But a very large class are not so fortunate—have not sufficient space to develop a good tree, and perhaps live in or near towns, where it may be difficult to grow a good one. For convenience sake, we will divide these into two classes—those who have small gardens in the country, and those who have small gardens in or near towns or cities. In the former, it will be better to pay full attention to subjects of a comparatively dwarf though hardy and long-lived habit, and to fine hardy shrubs like the hollies, &c. Except on the very margins of a small country place, it is a mistake to plant great trees, as at some time they are pretty sure to become an overshadowing nuisance, too near the house to be seen to advantage, and also too near to be agreeable or healthful. Of beautiful dwarf evergreen trees suited for such, there is nothing better than the comparatively new Retinosporas, which are at once graceful, hardy, and beautiful. They are natives of Japan, and in any large nursery various handsome and comparatively dwarf pines may be selected suitable for the same purpose. For the town or suburban garden the best things are decidedly beautiful dwarf and free-flowering deciduous trees, like the almond, the various finely coloured double peaches, the beautiful double cherries, the Chinese crab, the silvery eleagnus, the better kinds of hawthorn, and if there be room for a large tree, the plane is the best. Of course there is great difference in the climate and atmosphere of what are called suburbs. Thus, in many of the suburbs of London it is nearly impossible to get a pine-tree to live, while in the suburbs of many other towns and cities the choicest trees flourish freely. But ten or twelve years’ increase of smoke and increase of houses may make a sad difference to the pleasantest of suburbs, and things that flourished healthfully at one time may gradually perish from increasing smut and vileness of atmosphere. The best trees of the pine tribe for town planting are the dwarf and beautiful Thuja aurea, well suited, from its dwarf size, for the pleasure ground or flower garden; the Austrian pine, the common arbor-vitæ, and perhaps a few others; but as a rule, it is better not to plant pines where they will be exposed to the evil effects of a city atmosphere. On the other hand, all trees that lose their leaves in winter are likely to do well in such places, because they are leafless and quite at rest in the winter, when every chimney is vomiting forth poison, and the air is thick with filth. Then, when the atmosphere begins to clear, and the spring returns, they put forth their leaves and expose them during the best of the year, while the poor pine or evergreen has to stand exposed at all seasons.

THE BOY’S FLOWER GARDEN.

Of course every boy who cares about gardening will have a little flower garden. That is the first thing he is likely to attempt, and, perhaps, on the whole, that which he may attempt with the greatest certainty of success. A nice little varied flower garden is a source of interest and pleasant exercise for a boy nine months out of twelve. But it is not by imitating the common style of flower garden that a boy can make his little piece pretty and interesting for the length of time we have named. Nothing can be more bald and awkward-looking, more miserable in aspect, than most flower gardens he is likely to see at the present day; and therefore he must not attempt to imitate them, but follow the instructions to be presently given. The reason why the greater number of flower gardens of the present time are bad and miserably vulgar-looking, is that those who arrange them simply use a few sorts of plants, and many of them in great excess, so that an oppressive kind of monotony is produced, which is anything but agreeable in the flower garden; and, besides, nearly every flower garden you enter is very like every other—no life or interest to be seen in them as a rule; but, on the other hand, a great deal of mere gaudiness.

In addition to these demerits, the ordinary type of flower garden is usually filled with tender plants—plants which must be put out in the ground when the frosts are quite gone, in the beginning of June, and taken up again as soon as they reappear in autumn—leaving the ground bare for the winter and long spring. Now, even if this were the most beautiful way of managing a flower garden, it would not suit the boy gardener. He has, as a rule, no time to attend to tender plants, and if he once plants his garden, keeps it clean, and adds a new member to it now and then, it is perhaps as much as can be expected, considering how many other things he has to do. Besides, he goes away to school now and then, and what is to become of his tender plants then? Most boys will be proud to take care of their own things, and will be much better satisfied with a hardy little plant, which cannot suffer when they go away for six weeks at a time, than with one that may go off with the first frost. Clearly the best thing for the young gardener to do is to cultivate the most interesting and pretty of the hardy flowers of all seasons. Usually these are infinitely more interesting than the tender exotics of the grand flower garden. Many of them are English plants, notably the beautiful lily of the valley, the pink, the carnation, the graceful Solomon’s seal, the various lovely primroses and polyanthuses, and a host of others. Yes, you will do most wisely by adopting all those charming old inmates of our gardens, which, independently of their associations, are not to be surpassed for their beauty by any tenderlings. It will be our pleasant duty to point out to you the kind that you may grow with the greatest ease, and pick out for you the most beautiful kinds known. It is most essential to be very careful about the plants you put in your little flower garden, for your space is generally small, and there is in consequence the greater necessity to take care that every spot of it is occupied with a “good thing,” as gardeners are wont to say. There are hundreds of plants mentioned in garden books, and sold in nurseries, that are little better than weeds, and which would, therefore, sadly disfigure your garden. Presently we shall write you a list, which may be implicitly depended upon—every plant being beautiful, hardy, and in all respects suited to your wants.

As boys are usually allotted but a small portion of border for their flower garden, it is better to adopt the mixed border system, that is, a mixture of different kinds, tastefully arranged, and have nothing to do with what is called “bedding-out,” or planting great masses of one thing. By the mixed system, you will be enabled to enjoy a little of everything, and at all seasons, from the time that the crocus opens its brightly-burnished golden blossoms in early spring, till the Christmas rose ventures to show its large white flowers in the depth of winter. Do you like exquisitely coloured little flowers in the dawn of spring—little brightly blue things that “come before the swallow dares?” You can grow such without expense or trouble in your little parterre. The charming bushes of dwarf shrubs, and large border flowers, which bloom in May, must have charms for you as for all of us, and these too you may have in perfection; while the roses of June and July, the lilies of August, and the grand gladiolus of the autumn, will all be perfectly at home in your borders, as will every good and beautiful flower garden plant. In laying out your small patch of flower garden, it is best to confine yourself to a central bed (which may be square, round, or oval), and borders around that, and not to attempt anything elaborate in the way of laying. Attempts to lay out small bits of ground in a geometrically elaborate or Lilliputian imitation of the natural style, is almost sure to end in the production of something ridiculous or cockneyfied. Confine your attention chiefly to the plants, laying out the ground in a convenient manner. Let the design be subordinate altogether to the plants. All trivial artificial ornaments, in the way of shells, coloured gravel, statuettes, sundials, &c. should be left out of the plan altogether. The most beautiful gardens are those in which plant-beauty, and that alone, is conspicuous. If you can make the visitor forget all about design—forget everything but the fact that he is in a beautiful and varied garden, with nature’s own gems, free and healthy, on every side, you will attain the highest success of which the ancient art of gardening is capable.

We will suppose, then, that you have selected your little bit of ground. The next thing to do is to prepare it thoroughly. Now, in ordinary cases this is not half done. We are going to recommend you to plant permanent things, plants which will not require removal for many years, and you will not have a thorough opportunity of preparing the ground after you once plant. Therefore, the preparation of the ground is of tenfold greater importance in your case than in that of the ordinary gardener, whose beds of geraniums, or suchlike, are empty in winter, so that he has an opportunity of dressing and digging them every year.

Before marking the walks or anything of the kind, when, in fact, your little piece of ground comes into your hands at first, remove all matters from its surface, add manure to it in abundance, and have the whole dug as deep as you can go, without bringing up the bad subsoil at the bottom. If the ground be sandy, so much the better; then all you have do is to give it plenty of cow, or any other rich manure that comes to hand. If, on the other hand, it be of a clayey, stiff, tenacious nature, like much of the ground to the north side of London, you must act quite differently. Most pretty border plants like a light, warm, free or sandy soil, and abhor a heavy, wet one. The way to cure, if we may so speak, or, in other words, improve the very stiff soil, is to add plenty of sand, leaf-mould, horse manure, or gritty scrapings from roads, or any other loosening material of this kind that you can obtain. Dig it in deep, and dig the ground over again, so that it may be thoroughly incorporated with the soil. All this should be done in autumn, if you have the time—in early autumn, if possible. When well done, and the ground levelled, then you may mark your little walks—with a line—and your central bed; and if in this operation you can get the gardener to assist you, do so by all means. In many cases the gardener gets ready the boys’ garden, and presents it to him ready for planting, and that is the best way; for the planting and attention required afterwards will be as much as you can do, if you do it well. A word or two as to edgings for the borders and the bed. Don’t have anything to do with those nasty stone edgings, so much advertised of late, as they look very ugly and out of place in a garden. The neat little edging of box is, perhaps, the prettiest as well as the oldest in existence. But we are inclined to think that little edgings of plants that flower are the best for your case. Try to be original with your edging as with everything else, if possible, and whatever may be used as an edging near your garden, avoid, and have something distinct. We know of about one hundred pretty plants for making edgings, but can only mention such here as you are likely to be able to obtain without difficulty. The best are the rosy thrift (Armeria vulgaris rubra), a lovely spring plant; the pretty little white and blue campanula pumila, and its white variety; the large blue gentian of the Alps (G. aculis), this is plentiful in Scotland, but not about London; the pretty little blue aubrietia, to be obtained everywhere; the variegated cocksfoot grass (Dactylis glomerata variegata;—what a pity it is that we are obliged to use such names); and the double daisy in various colours. Should you make a box edging, use the dwarfest and best kind; and if you happen to notice any other dwarf hardy plants that make tasteful edgings, use any you fancy, by all means. The more variety we have the better, and the only thing that it is particularly desirable you should avoid is any forms of those crockery wares, or artificial stone edgings, as they are all as bad and ugly as need be.