fills up the hole gradually, pressing down the soil firmly at first with the hand, and when all is on treading it down with the foot, thus making the plant absolutely firm in its place before number one lets go his hold on it.

If their roots have been thoroughly soaked and swelled before planting, the roses need not be watered. But if the weather is dry, yet mild, it is well to give them a good syringing when they are all in place, especially if they have come a long journey. This, however, must be done in the forenoon, to allow them to dry before any chance of a chill during the night.

In the case of standards, large bushy plants, or pillar roses, a stake should be put against them before the hole is filled with earth. This is far the most satisfactory plan, as it avoids the chance of bruising or breaking the roots if the stake is forced in among them after planting. And, as I have said, the more fine fibrous roots the plant can throw, the better the flowers it will bring.

Tarred twine, or Raffia tape, are the best materials for tying standard and pillar roses. The twine should be given a double twist round the stake and then tied firmly round the stem, but not too tight, so as to allow room for the stem or branch to swell.

Under no circumstances must wire be used.

In the case of roses taken out of pots, the question of spreading the roots is one of the utmost importance; as, if they have been long in a pot the roots are interlaced in a perfect ball, and need most careful handling to avoid breaking them.

When all are safely in place, the tickets must be taken off and replaced by labels stuck in the ground beside each plant.[2] Many roses, especially from abroad, come with labels fastened on with wire. These should be removed without delay; for the moment the shoots begin to swell the wire eats into them, and in the course of a few months will either kill the shoot or break it. This is a most important matter. And I have had sad experience in it; as owing to carelessness and hurry in planting a number of extremely good French roses, I overlooked some of the wired labels. Eight months later, half—and the larger half—of a fine plant in full flower of the dwarf Polyantha, Perle des Rouges, was broken off on a windy day; and on examination I found that the stem had swelled to such a size round the corroding wire, that the weight it was bearing of foliage, flowers, and branches had broken it clean off. Even a label tied on with a string is injurious, from the constant chafing of the bark as the wind blows it to and fro and tightens the knot.

Our heavy task being now accomplished, we can await the rigours of winter cheerfully. But let no one persuade us that the newly planted beds would look better if raked smooth instead of being left quite rough. A smooth rose bed means that the soil cakes hard, preventing the rain penetrating in summer, and the frost mellowing the ground in winter. And from early spring to late autumn the hoe should be kept constantly at work between the plants; not merely to keep down weeds, but to keep the surface of the ground open to the influences of rain, sun, and the watering-pot.

CHAPTER II

Of all the many toils and anxieties that beset the path of the amateur rosarian, I think we may safely say pruning is the chief. The rules to be observed are few. The idiosyncrasies of each rose are many. And the demands upon one's own judgment and initiative are constant.

Two things have to be considered before we begin the puzzling task. Are we growing our roses for exhibition, or at all events for a very few very perfect blooms? Or are we growing them for quantity, for mere enjoyment, on the "cut and come again" principle, which enables one not only to fill the house without robbing the garden, but to fill the hands of every one who comes into the garden and looks at the masses of blossom with longing eyes?

As I do not exhibit, the second plan is the one I have studied most closely. For the other I must refer my readers to my friend the Rev. F. Page-Roberts' valuable notes, on how to grow and show roses in Chapter XI.

When to prune.—The old-fashioned plan of pruning all roses in the autumn has now been, happily for their well-being, given up in England. It was owing to this that many of the earlier varieties of Tea roses, and even some of the Bourbons and Hybrid Perpetuals, were considered 50 years ago too "tender" to plant freely out of doors.

Pruning now begins in February, and goes on through March and April.

In February we begin to prune the Rugosas; Boursaults; Sempervirens; and Ayrshires.

In February and early March, the Provence; Moss; miniature Provence; many of the Species, such as Alpina, Moschata, and Bracteata, and their hybrids.

In early March the Gallica; Damask; Alba; Hybrid Chinas; and Sweet Briars. To be followed by Hybrid Bourbons; Hybrid Noisettes and Musks; Austrian and Scotch Briars; Multifloras; Ramblers; Wichuraianas; Chinas; Dijon Teas; dwarf Polyanthas; and dwarf and standard Hybrid Perpetuals and Hybrid Teas.

Climbing varieties of Noisettes, Teas, Hybrid Teas, and Hybrid Perpetuals, may be thinned out, if necessary, after flowering in summer. But they must be pruned in March.

In April the Teas and Noisettes, both dwarf and standard, and the Banksian roses are pruned.

How to prune.—This is a much-disputed subject among rose growers, and as authorities differ widely with regard to it, some advocating hard pruning, and others just as strongly swearing by light pruning, so do they differ as to the instrument to be used. The pruning knife is most generally recommended; while the sécateur, so universally in use on the Continent, is advised merely for the cutting of dead wood. But the knife has its disadvantages, especially in the hands of a woman. For not only may one get an ugly cut with it: but even in a man's hands I have seen the plant pulled about more than I like, in cutting a tough branch. I am therefore delighted to find that so great an authority as the Rev. J. H. Pemberton advocates the use of the sécateur for all pruning, as for many years I have used nothing else. The amount of time and strength it saves one is infinite, to say nothing of the comfort of so handy a weapon.

There are, however, sécateurs and sécateurs—and a poor one is worse than useless. Its blades must be as sharp as a razor, and so accurately set that they make a perfectly clean cut right through, without pinching the branch or tearing the bark. In choosing one, it is well to try it on a sheet of tissue paper. If it cuts the paper like a sharp pair of scissors, it is all right. But if it curls the paper round the blade, instead of making a clean cut, it is to be avoided. After trying many different makes, I have found that the Sécateur Montreuil, which I have now procured for several years from MM. Vilmorin,