"GARDENING."

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LIII, Issue 95, 30 July 1910, Page 9

"GARDENING."

A HUMOKOUS ARTICLE. Like most people who write learnedly upon scientific subjects, I know very little about gardening (writes Lewis Sydney, a well-known Comedian of the "Follies," in a Home paper). Still, as gardening is a Folly, and so am I, and as gardening is an entertaining occupation, and so is mine, I may at least be said to have something in common with my subject—though I should probably find it difficult to tell an agricultural laborer from a microbe culture expert at first sight. My earliest gardening experience occurred when I was at school. One Guy Fawke's Day I planted Roman candles all round the headmaster's garden, burnt all his scarlet runner sticks on a bonfire, and accidentally set fire to the trunk ot his apple-tree. I realised sorrowfully next day, whenever I endeavored to sit down, that there was a lot more in gardening than sometimes appeared on the surface.

From that time forward my acquaintance with the art was restricted for several years to the removal of stones and weeds from the paternal flower-beds.

MY PLAN WITH WEEDS. As cats were fairly plentiful in our district, I was always willing to remove the< stones, but the weeds looked so happy and numerous that I hated to disturb them, and in the end I decided that it would be much simpler to dig up the flowers and put them in another part of the garden where the weeds didn't grow. Personally I thought this was rather a smart idea, but somehow the flowers didn't seem to like the dustbin, and—well, after that I left gardening severely alone for quite a long while.

When, however, I arrived at man's estate, I thought it would be just as well to dig a garden in it. So I did. And, one way and another, I put no end of time and seeds and energy into that garden. But it was never a particularly pleasant sort of a place to stroll in.' Even the cats shunned it. I spent nearly every spare penny I possessed for the good of that garden, but the garden remained good for nothing. My beans were all might-have-beens; my strawberries strawed the ground, but never berried—till I buried them; my roses never rose at all; my stocks were always out of stock; my evergreens were nevergreens; my dahlias were failures, and my Canterbury bells were cracked from birth.

I spent hours and hours on my hands and knees, with a microscope, trying to find the mustard-and-cress, till even the caterpillars laughed at me. Then I grew tired of gardening and decided to keep white mice. ABOUT POTTING.

Possibly my failure was due to the fact that I never used any proper gardening tools. The only Hoe with which 1 ever became really acquainted was at Plymouth, vdien the band was playing and the soft summer breeze was blowing from seawards; the only spades I ever used were on playing cards; my forks were kept in the plate-basket, not the toolshed, and I always managed to cut what lawn there was with a pair of nailscissors.

Lately, however, my interest in gardening has broken out in a fresh direction, and the greenhouse having become my stronghold, I had intended to say something useful about potting. But it seems that Pelisser, who says he pots plays for the Follies, is liable to think that this would be encroaching on his [preserves; and, as Gladstone told us years ago, the salvation of the British gardener lies in his ability to grow iruit for preserving purposes. Be this as it may, I must confess there is one garden upon which I have always 'cast covetous eyes; and that is Covent I Garden. To my mind, Covent Garden is the most successful, the most ideal garden in the world. Nobody ever sets anything in it, yet everything flourishes there — from cauliflowers and hyacinths to grand operas and fancy dress balls. Fancy dress balls doing well in a garden. It's stupendous! SOME PRACTICAL TIPS. Of course, the amateur gardener could never, even in his wildest dreams, hope to produce such a curious crop. But then I doubt whether he would be satisfied if he could. . He may even say this article is not a practical article. And I think he may be right. But as I really should like to be ox some practical use to gardeners, here ar« a few agricultural proverbs, specially constructed, and founded entirely upon my personal inexperience: 1.. Whatever else you do, keep to a .straight path. 2. Do not let the grass grow under your feet. It hurts. Get someone else's feet. 3. Asparagus should be seen and not 4 The enthusiastic gardener should examine the trees carefully for mare's Aests. The offspring of the eggs are deBid8 id to ibeans. Do not reckon your oak trees 'bethev are planted. . 6. Wild oats should be sown in the spring, because it is then that a young EfWj h.™ to ttafto d tern 7. Beet is not necessarily the root ol all evil—unless you overeat it. 8. (Business men please note). .rro l vtded you dig deep enough you are always certain of a big turnover.