the season to recover
from the effect of early forcing, in which the vitality of the plant
suffered almost to the point of extinction, and to which was added the
ordeal of the change from in- to out-door conditions. "Our seasons are
too short for it," was the universal verdict. "At the south it may do
well, but there's no use in trying to do anything with it at the north
unless one has a greenhouse, and understands the peculiarities of the
plant better than the rank and file of flower-loving people can expect
to." So it came about that its cultivation was given up by small
gardeners, and it was seen only on the grounds of the wealthier people,
who could afford the services of the professional gardener.

We have learned, of late years, that our treatment of the plant was
almost the opposite of what was required.

Some eight or ten years ago, I ordered a collection of choice varieties
of the Dahlia. I ordered them early in the season, expecting to start
them into growth in pots as usual. For some reason they did not come
until the last day of May. It was then too late to start them in the
usual way, and I planted them in the garden, expecting they would amount
to nothing.

The result was, to me, a most surprising one.

The place in which I planted them was one whose soil was very rich and
mellow. It was near a pump, from which a great deal of water was thrown
out every day.

In less than a week after planting, the tubers threw up strong shoots,
and these grew very rapidly under the combined effects of rich soil,
warmth, and plenty of moisture at the roots. Indeed, they went ahead so
rapidly that I considered their growth a discouraging feature, as I felt
sure it must be a weak one.

The result was that when the State Horticultural Society held its summer
meeting in the village in which I resided, on the twenty-eighth of
August, I placed on exhibition some of the finest specimens of Dahlia
blossoms the members of the Society had ever seen, and carried off eight
first premiums.

Since then I have never attempted to start my Dahlias in the house. I
give them an extremely rich soil, spaded up to the depth of at least a
foot and a half, and made so mellow that the new roots find it an easy
matter to work their way through it. Water is applied freely during the
season. I consider this an item of great importance, as I find that the
plant fails to make satisfactory development when located in a dry
place. A pailful of