The brightness of summer is
slowly paling into the gloom of autumn; day by
day is the curtain of the night drawn over the
face of the earth at an earlier moment than it
was yesterday, and withdrawn again at a later
moment each succeding morn. The "sere and
yellow leaves" caught from the trees by the
passing wind, and dropped down at our very doors
as it speeds along on its mission, "none
knowing since the world began whence it cometh or
whither it goeth;" these are the footfalls
of on-coming autumn, and the impending frosts,
that, in some localities, have already appeared
and left their withering impress--just as if the
coccupants of many a flower-bed had been grasped
by the fiery hand of an avenger, and robbed of
the vigour and beauty the setting sun had so
recently smiled on as it sank in the western
heavens.
In my little front garden I have
had some spendid spikes of Gladioloi, that have
been at the same time the attraction and the envy
of the whole neighbourhood. How I have wondered
that the spikes have not been wantonly plucked by
passer-by; for they have been mercifully spared
to be an abundant joy to myself, and I hope a
fleeting feast of pleasure to the eyes of many a
wayfarer. I had a row of French seedlings,
hybrids of G. Gandavensis, but which I imagine
had been hybridised with some varieties of the G.
floribundus section. They were all light-coloured
flowers of somewhat loose form, but in some
instances very curiously marked. the were
streaked, and flaked, and spotted in a singular
manner, quite unlike anything I have ever seen in
the G. Gandavensis section before. For the
quality of form they possessed no value, but
solely for their eccentric marking, and forming
as they did a background to some of the best of
the named kinds, for which they were pecurliarly
fitted, bieng of stronger as well as of taller
growth; and so forming a contrast that had yet an
element of harmony about it.
Of the named varieties I had Duc
de Malakoff, a brilliant flamed orange red, with
consipcuous white blotch, very showy indeed;
Madame Haquin, a very beautiful lilac and white
flower; Napoleon III, very bright scarlet, each
petal having a white spripe running up it; Ninon
de l'Enclos, flesh colour, striped with rose;
Ophir, the deepest yellow I have yet seen,
spotted with purple; Raphael, glowing vermillion,
with white throat, rayed and shaded with violet;
Rembrandt, rich deep scarlet; Velledda, bright
rose spotted with lilac, large and fine; Vulean,
scarlet, flushed with purple, the centre of the
flowe shaded with violet; Mathilde de
LLandevoisin, a very beautiful flower, white,
striped with carmine; Madame de Vatry, white,
tinged with yellow, and flushed with pale pink,
and spotted with violet rose, a fine spike; and
comte de Morny, cerise, blotched with white and
striped with violet. These are but a very few of
the many varieties extant, but not to be accepted
strictly as a select list.
During the prevalence of the dry
weather--I had to water daily, and as they were
planted in a light porous soil--I had to use the
materials that lay within my reach--they required
morning and evening copious draughts of aqueous
refreshment. At intervals of about two or three
days I treated them to a higher form of
nourishment, in the shape of some guano water
carefully diluted and applied. This higher
regimen I administered just as the flower-spikes
began to show themselves above the foliage.
I have been almost entirely free
from the ravages of that epidemic, be it what it
may, that for the past two or three years has
fastened itself upon beds of Gladioli in the
neighbourhood of London, and laid waste many a
promising group of plants. Be it the prevalence
of drought, or some defect in the constitution of
the plant resulting from its having been imported
from the continent, where it was in all
probablility imprerfectly ripened in order to get
it into the London market as early as possible in
the autumn--it is an undeniable fact that the
appearance of the phenomenon has sadly depressed
the spirits of many a grower of the Gladiolus in
the metropolitan districts, if not some in the
country also. I must, however, make an exception
to the last theory partially, if not entirely,
inasmuch as I saw this season two large patches
of Gladioli in two different localities, the
bulbs of which had been grown and ripened in
England, and yet very many of them had entirely
failed. Then, again, I know a large cultivator in
the country who has grown largely and
successfully from i mported bulbs, and who, in
the south-western districts of England, has
carried off first prizes at the various
exhibitions at which he has exhibited, and he has
scarcely a failure to chronicle.
I incline to the opinion that
early planting is very desirable, as the vital
energies of the bulbs often become well nigh
spent by keeping. They should not, however, be
planted at a time of drought--dry springs seem to
be a rule with us now--but at a time when the
soil is well mositened by rain, and if a drought
secceeds, they should be watered thus early if
neccessary, care being taken that should frost
impend, some shelter from its effects had best be
afforded them. During the time they are making
their vigorous growth, if the weather is dry they
should be freely watered, and some stimulus be
administered just before and during blooming
time, in the form of liquid manure or guano
water.
This is the outcome of the
considerations drawn from my somewhat limited
range of observation. I put it forward with
diffidence, but yet with the hope that it may
indicate to some slight extent a possible
solution to the difficulty that for the past few
seasons has sadly beset and sorely tired the
growers of the Gladiolus about the metropolis.
QUO.
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