A Garden of Peace: A Medley in QuietudeMoore, Frank Frankfort
General
A Garden of Peace: A Medley in Quietude
Moore, Frank Frankfort
Gardens -- Fiction
it has been excluded from its rightful quarters, it is because the idea
is prevalent that it cannot be grown unless in the unsightly way that
finds favour in the kitchen garden. It would seem as if the controllers
of this department aimed at achieving the ugly in this particular. They
make a sort of gipsy tripod of boughs, only without removing the twigs,
and let the plant work its way up many of these. This is not good enough
for a garden where neatness is regarded as a virtue.
I found that these beans can be grown with abundant success in a border,
by running a stout wire along brackets, two or three feet out from a
wall, and suspending the roughest manila twine at intervals to carnation
wires in the soil below. This gives an unobtrusive support to the
plants, and in a fortnight the whole, of this flimsy frontage is hidden,
and the blossoms are blazing splendidly. I have had rows of over a
hundred feet of these beans, but not one support gave way even in the
strongest wind, and the household was supplied up to the middle of
November.
I am sure that such experiments add greatly to the interest of
gardening; and I encourage my Olive branch in her craving after a flower
garden that shall be made up wholly of weeds. She has found out, I
cannot say how, that the dandelion is a thing of beauty--she discovered
one in a garden that she visited, and having never seen one before,
inquired what was its name. I told her that the flower was not
absolutely new to me, but lest I should lead her astray as to its name,
she would do well to put her inquiry to the gardener and ask him for
any hints he could give her as to its culture, and above all, how to
propagate it freely. If he advised cuttings and a hot bed, perhaps
he might be able to tell her the right temperature, and if he thought
ordinary bonemeal would do for a fertiliser for it.
Beyond a doubt a bed of dandelions would look very fine, but one cannot
have everything in a garden, and I hope I may have the chance, hitherto
denied to me, of resigning myself to its absence from mine, even though
it be only for a single week.
But there are many worthy weeds to be found when one looks carefully for
them, and I should regard with great interest any display of them in a
bed ( in a neighbour's garden, providing that that garden was not within
a mile of mine).
The transformation just mentioned of a decrepit greenhouse into the
sub-tropical pleasure-ground, was not my inspiration for my treatment of
a greenhouse which encumbered a part of my ground only a short time ago.
It was a necessity for a practice of rigid economy that inspired me when
I examined the dilapidations and estimated the cost of “making good” at
something little short of fifty pounds. It had been patched often enough
before, goodness knows, and its wounds had been poulticed with putty
until in some places it seemed to be suffering from an irrepressible
attack of mumps.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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