Small Gardens, and How to Make the Most of Them

Small Gardens, and How to Make the Most of Them

Violet Purton Biddle

5.0
Comment(s)
395
View
18
Chapters

Small Gardens, and How to Make the Most of Them by Violet Purton Biddle

Chapter 1 No.1

The General Arrangement of the Garden

What to go in for, and what to avoid-Brick walls-Trees, their advantages and disadvantages, etc.

It is imperative that a small garden, such as one generally finds attached to suburban or small houses, should be made the very most of. Frequently, however, its owners seem to think that to attempt to grow anything in such a little plot of ground is a veritable waste of time and money, as nothing ever comes of it. The aim of this book is to show that even the tiniest piece of land can be made pretty and even profitable, if due attention be given it.

WELL BEGUN IS HALF DONE. To begin with, it is well to remember that the tenant of a small garden should not endeavour to represent every feature he sees in large grounds; the poverty-stricken shrubbery and pond just about large enough for a nice bath, are too often seen, and only call forth ridicule. Some landscape gardeners have even objected to the presence of a lawn, where the space at disposal is very limited indeed, but to my mind a little turf is always advisable, for it not only entices people into the fresh air for a game, but forms a good foil for flowering plants, and above all looks so well during the winter.

A long narrow garden is always easier to deal with than a square plot of land, the range of vision not being "brought up short," as it were. It is well to take heed of this fact where there is any choice in the matter. Good brick walls are a great help in gardening, though alas! in these hurried days they are becoming much rarer, the wooden fence being run up so quickly, and at far less expense.

As regards the walks, it is better to have one path wide enough for two people abreast than several unsociably narrow ones. Each path should lead somewhere, to the summer-house, or a gate, for instance: otherwise it looks inconsequent.

Besides the flower-garden proper, a nursery for making experiments, sowing seeds, and striking cuttings, should find a place, if possible; a rubbish-heap is invaluable, too, where all decayed vegetable refuse, road-scraping, soapsuds, etc., should be thrown. In autumn, all the leaves the gardener sweeps up should be placed near by, both heaps being frequently turned over to allow of the noxious gas escaping, and to assist decomposition. The rubbish corner should be at the furthest extremity of the garden, though it need not be unsightly if a screen is placed around it. Privet is certainly the quickest growing shrub for that purpose, but, as it is so common, other shrubs, such as pyrus japonica, arbutus, barberry, and pyracantha, may be used.

THE JOYS OF A GREENHOUSE. If there is no greenhouse, try to obtain one; it is such an infinite delight all through the dark months of the year, and this without any great cost for fuel. A Rippingille oil-stove, with one four-inch wick, will suffice to keep the frost out of a structure measuring 16 × 10, if a lean-to (that is, attached to a dwelling-house). Even this expense may be avoided where it is built against a kitchen wall, though, if the wall happened to face north, only ferns and just a few flowers would thrive. But even these would form a great interest, especially to invalids, who often find their greatest pleasure in pottering about under their "little bit of glass."

A VEXED QUESTION. The vexed question of lopping one's neighbours' trees is sure to crop up sooner or later. However much detriment the trees may be doing, by preventing the free access of sun and air, tenants should know that the law only justifies them in cutting down those branches which actually overhang their own domains. This being the case, it is often the best "to grin and bear it," and lop the trees as little as possible, for we must acknowledge that the fine form of a tree is always spoilt when interfered with to any great extent. If the border would, in any case be shady, so much the better; it will only require a little more attention in the matter of watering, etc. After all, shade from the hot summer sun is absolutely necessary if we would enjoy a garden, therefore it is always well to hesitate over an act which takes but a few minutes to do, but may need years to repair. Where the trees overhang a good south or west wall the matter is more serious; it is then advisable to cut back as far as possible, for roses, peach-trees, and, indeed, most climbers resent the constant drip they are obliged to endure in wet weather. A list of plants which do well under trees in various aspects is given in another chapter.

BREAKING UP. As the eye wearies of the straight piece of lawn with gravel path and border surrounding it, where practicable the ground should be broken up a bit. Some wide trellis-work, painted dark-green, with an arch-way on either side, helps to do this, and lends a pleasant sense of mystery to what might otherwise be a prosaic garden. It should be covered with all manner of creepers, such as clematis, jasmine, roses in variety, and some of the hardy annuals. Very tender plants should not be put on a trellis, as it does not by any means take the place of a wall, being more draughty than the open ground, though such things as the ceanothus will often live through several winters, and bloom beautifully every summer in such a spot, till an unusually hard frost kills them outright. Mulching, however, of which more anon (see Glossary), materially aids in preserving them.

In gardening it is the little things that tell. A mere trifle often makes the difference between failure and success. People will hardly believe, for instance, how important it is that certain plants should only receive soft water, and continue giving the water laid on by the company when all the time gallons and gallons of precious rain from heaven are running to waste. It is only a question of a tank to preserve it, which should be in an unobtrusive situation, though easily get-at-able. Where alpines are concerned, rainwater should be the only beverage, and this reminds me that a rockery on which to grow these gems of other countries is not such an impossibility in a town garden as might be thought by their scarcity.

HOW NOT TO DO IT. The rockery, as seen in most gardens, both public and private, is too often an example of "how not to do it." A heterogeneous mass of clinkers, planted here and there with ivy, and exposed to the full force of sun and wind, is not to be named in the same breath with those at Kew, for instance. Of course, these are not made with bricks at all, but of soft grey stone, rather difficult to obtain by amateurs. Nevertheless, the shape and general characteristics may be copied; indeed, a day every now and then spent in the Royal Gardens at Kew or in any other well planned gardens, is a liberal education in such matters, and a great help in laying out a garden to good effect, though, naturally, everything must be considerably modified.

* * *

Continue Reading

You'll also like

My Alpha's Heartless Contract Wife

My Alpha's Heartless Contract Wife

Rabbit
5.0

"Anya, a 'wolfless' in a world of powerful werewolves, was invisible, drowning her sorrows and desperately lonely. One drunken text, a desperate cry for attention, accidentally reached the Alpha, pulling her into his terrifying orbit. Now, she's trapped, a pawn in his game, forced to warm his bed while he waits for his true mate, her heart breaking with every stolen moment. As a 'wolfless' in the Blackwood Pack, Anya felt like an outsider, always yearning for a connection. One night, in a drunken haze, a misdirected text meant for her best friend landed in Alpha Declan Blackwood's inbox: ""Send me something hot."" Minutes later, the most powerful, terrifying man in the Pack stood at her door, claiming her with a possessive kiss that ignited a dangerous, unwanted fire. The next morning, his cold indifference shattered her world. Publicly humiliated and instantly fired, Anya became a pariah. Her dying mother's urgent need for a million-dollar heart transplant left her with an impossible choice: accept the Alpha's cold, transactional marriage proposal or watch her mother die. She became his ""placeholder"" wife, a contract, not a partner, all while battling a confusing attraction to the man who treated her as property. Why did he demand her, only to remind her constantly of her worthlessness, especially when everyone knew he waited for his true mate? Her world crumbled when she overheard Declan tell his returning ""true mate,"" Kristin Larsen, that Anya was ""just a substitute."" Despite the crushing betrayal and a strange, unyielding pull, Anya, fueled by her mother's desperate need, vowed to survive this gilded cage and reclaim her life before she lost herself completely."

The Sterling Scandal: Married To The Uncle

The Sterling Scandal: Married To The Uncle

C.D
5.0

I was at my own engagement party at the Sterling estate when the world started tilting. Victoria Sterling, my future mother-in-law, smiled coldly as she watched me struggle with a cup of tea that had been drugged to ruin me. Before I could find my fiancé, Ryan, a waiter dragged me into the forbidden West Wing and locked me in a room with Julian Sterling, the family’s "fallen titan" who had been confined to a wheelchair for years. The door burst open to a frenzy of camera flashes and theatrical screams. Victoria framed me as a seductress caught in the act, and Ryan didn't even try to listen to my pleas, calling me "cheap leftovers" before walking away with his pregnant mistress. When I turned to my own family for help, my father signed a document severing our relationship for a five-million-dollar payout from Julian. They traded me like a commodity without a second thought. I didn't understand why my own parents were so eager to sell me, or how Ryan could look at me with such disgust after promising me forever. I was a sacrifice, a pawn used to protect the family's offshore accounts, and I couldn't fathom how every person I loved had a price tag for my destruction. With nowhere left to go, I married Julian in a bleak ceremony at City Hall. He slid a heavy diamond onto my finger and whispered, "We have a war to start." That night, inside his secret penthouse, I watched the paralyzed man stand up from his wheelchair and activate a screen filled with the Sterling family's darkest secrets. The execution had officially begun.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book